Malta Teachers Master Emotional Intelligence: How Classroom Peace is Rewriting Playground Rules Across the Islands
From the honey-coloured limestone of Valletta classrooms to the sun-washed courtyards of Gozo’s primary schools, a quiet revolution is taking place. Over one hundred Maltese educators have just completed the first island-wide “Classroom Peace” training programme, an initiative that blends Mediterranean values of community and respect with cutting-edge emotional-intelligence techniques. The result? Calmer corridors, kinder playgrounds and a generation of children who are learning how to disagree without shouting.
The programme, launched by the Ministry for Education in partnership with the University of Malta and the NGO PeaceLab Malta, ran across three intensive weekends in March and April. Teachers, learning-support assistants and even a handful of band-club catechists gathered at the Mediterranean Conference Centre to practise role-play, mindfulness exercises and restorative-circle conversations. The goal: give adults the tools to model emotional intelligence so that pupils can mirror it back.
“Malta has always prized il-qalb – the heart – in our dealings with neighbours,” says Dr Maria Spiteri, a lecturer in psychology at UM who co-designed the curriculum. “But the classroom is a micro-village, and children bring their whole worlds inside. If we want less anger and more listening, the adults have to show the way.”
Local context matters. With classrooms growing ever more multicultural—Nigerian-Maltese siblings sitting next to third-generation Sliema kids and Syrian newcomers—old discipline models based on “because I said so” are cracking. Add the lingering stress of the pandemic, and teachers report rising playground scuffles and TikTok-fuelled rows. The Classroom Peace sessions tackle these realities head-on. Participants rehearse how to de-escalate a clash over football teams by using Maltese proverbs (“Kliem ix-xiħ għandu ħlewwa”) to invite empathy, then switch to English so every child feels included.
Beyond theory, the training is rooted in places Maltese teachers recognise. One workshop was held inside the Inquisitor’s Palace in Birgu, its austere halls transformed into pop-up classrooms where educators practised “peace corners”—soft-lit nooks stocked with lace cushions and worry beads where pupils can self-regulate. Another session took place at Għajn Tuffieħa’s clay slopes, where participants walked barefoot to mirror the sensory breaks they can offer restless children.
The cultural significance runs deep. For centuries, festa fireworks and village rivalries have shaped how Maltese children see conflict—as loud, colourful, sometimes beautiful but often bruising. Classroom Peace reframes that narrative. “We’re not erasing festa spirit,” insists facilitator Clive Busuttil, a former St Julian’s secondary-school teacher who now coaches rugby to teens. “We’re teaching kids that rivalry can stay on the pitch or in the band-club rivalry, and needn’t spill into insults or exclusion.”
Early feedback is promising. At St Monica School in Gżira, teacher Ramona Micallef introduced a “feelings thermometer” chart after the training. In just six weeks, lunchtime referrals to the guidance teacher dropped by 40%. “My pupils now ask each other ‘Kif qed tħossok?’ before jumping to conclusions,” she beams. Over in Gozo, the Rabat primary school has started a peer-mediation scheme where Year 6 students wear sky-blue sashes and shepherd younger ones through conflict using scripts they helped write.
Parents are noticing too. During a recent harvest festival in Żejtun, 10-year-old Jake Vella was seen mediating between two cousins arguing over whose turn it was to carry the statue of St Gregory. His mother, Marika, laughs: “He used the ‘peace rose’ technique from school—literally passed a paper rose back and forth until they both calmed down. I thought, ‘Mela, the teachers learned something useful!’”
The ripple effects reach beyond the school gates. Café owners near St Aloysius College report fewer sugar-fuelled shouting matches, while bus drivers on the congested Birkirkara route say children queue more patiently. Even the traditional festa season feels lighter; in Qormi last week, rival band clubs shared a joint children’s choir after classroom ambassadors lobbied their parish priests.
With funding secured for another cohort in October, the Classroom Peace team plans to translate key modules into Maltese sign language and Arabic to include resource teachers and migrant learning hubs. As the Mediterranean sun sets on another school day, the message echoing from Valletta to Xlendi is simple: when teachers practise peace, the whole archipelago listens.
