I recently completed the British Council online course Teaching English: Classroom Management for Primary, a 12-hour learning journey that quietly reminded me why professional development is never really about learning something completely new — sometimes, it is about remembering what we already know.

As a seasoned teacher, I will admit that I felt a little conflicted while going through the modules. Many of the strategies were familiar to me. Breaking activities into smaller chunks, organising pair and group work, and differentiating for early and late finishers are not new ideas in my classroom. In fact, these are approaches I have already experimented with and continue to practise.

Yet, despite this familiarity, the course offered something unexpectedly valuable: gentle nudges.

These nudges encouraged me to pause and reflect more intentionally on my classroom decisions rather than simply operating on experience and routine. They reminded me that effective classroom management is not about discovering groundbreaking strategies, but about consistently applying small, thoughtful practices that support learners’ engagement, pacing and confidence.

Since January, I have been engaging in weekly teaching reflections — short, honest check-ins with myself about what worked, what felt challenging and what my learners needed in that moment. This habit has helped me notice patterns I might otherwise overlook: when learners lose focus, when pacing feels rushed, when noise is actually productive, and when quiet does not necessarily mean understanding.

Completing this course felt like placing a mirror beside those weekly reflections. It gave language and structure to thoughts I had already been documenting informally. More importantly, it reassured me that reflection itself is not a sign of uncertainty, but a sign of professional growth.

While reflecting on my own teaching, I realised that my English classroom is generally manageable. This realisation itself felt important. It allowed me to shift my focus from “fixing problems” to refining what already works.

Breaking activities into smaller chunks has helped maintain learners’ attention and reduced overwhelm, especially for pupils with lower language proficiency. Increasing opportunities for pair and group interaction has transformed classroom noise into purposeful communication, allowing learners to practise language in a safer and more supportive environment. Paying closer attention to early and late finishers through simple differentiation has also prevented boredom and frustration, two quiet contributors to off-task behaviour.

When I look back at my weekly reflections, I can see these strategies quietly appearing again and again — sometimes successful, sometimes messy, but always informative. The course did not introduce these ideas to me for the first time; instead, it validated the direction I was already moving towards.

Perhaps the most meaningful takeaway from this experience is the reassurance that growth as a teacher does not always come from dramatic change. Sometimes, it comes from being reminded, re-energised and more intentional with the strategies we already carry with us.

I am learning to appreciate these moments of professional humility — moments where I realise that experience does not mean completion, and familiarity does not mean mastery. There is always room to revisit, refine and respond more thoughtfully to our learners.

This course did not transform my classroom overnight, but it did something equally powerful: it helped me slow down, honour my weekly reflections and continue teaching with renewed awareness.

And sometimes, that quiet nudge is exactly what we need.