22 August, 2011

It begins at the age of five...


Today I am thinking about how often the typical response to children’s negative behavior in a classroom is that of anger and exclusion rather than education about how to be a more functional member of the classroom, and the way in which this parallels our societal norms particularly around our prison system.  

A glimpse into the classroom:

The children are all playing in the sensory table and one of the children, “Sam” throws the sand out of the table and onto the floor (seemingly on purpose…) one of the teachers comes over and says, “Sam!  You know that we don’t throw the sand! You’re done for the day.”  About ten minutes later Sam walks back over to the sensory table.  He picks up a scoop and pours the sand into a container.  He watches as the sand falls back into the table.  As he picks up the scoop to fill it again the teacher walks back over and says, “Sam!  What are you doing!? (not in a tone of curiosity, or intended as question to be answered) I told you, you were done for the day!” Sam looks up at her and says, “but I’m not throwing the sand anymore.” 

I think it's important to note that of all the children in the room Sam is the child I notice is put out of the room most often for his behavior. I also notice that he is black, and I'm aware that his family has few monetary resources.  He seems angry much of the time, and sometimes resorts to violence to express himself.  

When I hear what he has said to the teacher, I see a great opportunity for her to support him, (given that he has changed his behavior) and to express excitement and perhaps joy he has succeeded in figuring out how to participate more appropriately in the activity according to the rules that she had established.  I am waiting for the teacher to take advantage of the moment provided by Sam by saying something like, “Oh! Then it looks like you are able to play here.  I’m so glad you remembered the rule.”  Instead she responds in a way that to me communicates that her authority is all that matters, and that there can be no repair on Sam's part.  She tells him, “I don’t care!  I told you, you were done.”   

So what?

It seems to me that even at the young age of five, we are instilling in children the message that even when they learn a lesson, and work hard to follow the rules, they will be punished.  We are literally telling them “We don’t care” about what they have learned. What does matter to us (the might infer) is that they made a mistake, and that the mistake takes precedence over any other factor.  To me, it seems unjust and unfortunately, it reminds me of our "justice" system. I believe that when we as teachers speak and act in this way are complicit in creating conditions in which the children may no longer bother to do the hard work of following rules.  We risk taking away the hope that if they do in fact put in that work that they will find mutual celebration of their increased mastery over their behavior, and the satisfaction of being welcomed back into full participation in the group. 

Clearly this is only a small window into one moment of the day in the life of that child, that classroom, and that school, and this one moment doesn't determine anything for sure, but it does offer me an opportunity to think more deeply about my own responses to children when they exhibit negative behavior.  So I ask myself, what response would allow a child to truly learn a lesson, and develop internal motivation to follow the rules, and be a part of the classroom community?

Imagine if...

Sam throws sand.  The teacher approaches, and lets him know the impact of his behavior by saying to him, "Sam, when you throw sand on the floor it makes a mess for us to clean up..."  She then reminds him of the rule, "...I want to remind you that the sand needs to stay in the sand table..." Then, she states what the consequence of the continued behavior will be.  "...If I see you throw the sand again I will ask you to help clean it up, and then find somewhere else to play until you are ready to follow the rules."  Finally, she makes sure that he has agency in the conversation by asking,  "Do you understand?" 

When/if sam throws the sand again the teacher asks him where else in the classroom he would like to play, reminding him that this particular area is off limits for the time being.  Sam gets upset.  The teacher recognizes the validity of his feelings saying, "I see you are upset..." Then  reminds him that he is not being punished, but rather he is being offered an opportunity to learn, by saying,  "Don't worry, you will have another chance to play here as soon as you are ready to follow the rule about the sand.  I will check in with you in five minutes to see if you are ready to come back.  In the meantime, where would you like to play?"  

Sam chooses the block area.  Five minutes later the teacher invites him back saying, "Sam, there is a space available for you at the sand table.  Are you ready to remember that the sand stays in the table?" Sam says that he is, and he returns to the table.  He starts filling up cups with sand and pouring it out into the sand table.  The teacher watches him for a few moments then offers reinforcement for the appropriate behavior and recognition of Sam by saying, "I'm glad you are back at the sand table Sam.  It seems like you really enjoy playing here."  Sam smiles, and continues to play with the sand.  

I believe that if the scenario presented here consistently goes as it did in the second telling then we have a hope of raising children who are confident in their ability to understand rules, consequences, and their own capacity for participating in the process of being a responsible member of a community. 

While I don't believe this will solve our often unjust and racist system of incarceration I do believe that at least we won't be replicating or reinforcing the underlying message that there is no way to come back from a mistake. 

Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more of my many thoughts... 

I used to believe that children should say sorry...

Today I'm thinking about the impact our words can have on the people around us, and the value of investing in true community rather than surface level indications that things are "running smoothly".

A glimpse into the classroom:

Two children "Sarah" and "Maria" are playing in the block area.  Sarah is making a tower.  As she is about the put the last block on top Maria turns around and whacks the blocks, knocking the tower to the floor.  Sarah turns to Maria and pushes her.  A teacher sitting nearby and observing comes over to the children.  Maria is crying and Sarah looks mad.  The teacher says to them, "It doesn't look like either one of you is very happy right now.  You should say you are sorry to each other." 

So what...

At the time of this incident, I mostly agreed with the teacher who was speaking with them.  I believed that it was important for them to recognize the ways in which they had upset each other, and at that point in my life "sorry" was the only frame of reference that I had for what that might look like.  

A look at how a collaboration can help us grow:

Later that day all the teachers were sitting around for our daily de-briefing meeting.  The director asked as usual, "What worked well today?" Then, when we had all gone around and stated what we thought worked, she followed up in the usual manner, "What didn't work so well for you today?" When it got to be her turn, she looked at the teacher who had intervened in the block situation.  Dan, she said, I noticed that earlier when Maria knocked over Sarah's tower, and Sarah hit Maria, you told them they should say they were sorry.  Then she asked, Why was that? This question threw me off guard, and I listened intently.  

Dan thought for a moment then said, well... I believe that children should be held accountable for their actions.  Sarah and Maria both hurt each other, and I thought they should both have to acknowledge that to each other. The director said I totally agree that children should be held accountable, and that they should acknowledge when they hurt somebody.  But I have a problem with saying 'sorry'.  I was suprised to hear her say this, and wondered why.  She continued, I'm not sure that either Sarah or Maria was sorry.  It looked to me like Sarah was mad, and Maria was hurt.  Saying 'sorry' doesn't change any of that.  Furthermore as someone who has worked with women who have been abused, I have to say that I don't want to teach children that they should always accept a 'sorry' if it doesn't mean anything is going to change.
  
She was right.  'Sorry' is so easy. It lets us off the hook without any kind of real work.  But, I wondered, what is the alternative?  The director continued, I would prefer if as a staff we would encourage children not to apologize, but rather to engage in the hard work of asking the other person, 'what do you need to feel better?' in this way they are truly accountable to the impact of their actions, and the other child has agency to ask for what they need.      

It made so much sense.  Of course... I thought. Sometimes sorry isn't good enough.  Sometimes when I am mad or hurt I need space away from the person, or I need them to tell me they won't do it again, or I just need to hear them say that they hear how upset I am.  She was talking about the difference between the appearance of a conflict free classroom, and a classroom where conflict can lead to deeper connection, and even community.  

To this day, this director is one of the most influential people in my life and the conversation we had on that day is forever in my mind, not just because it changed my thinking about apologies, but because she modeled for us in that meeting how to speak honestly to those with whom you disagree.  She showed me how to approach a situation that you have strong feelings about from a place of respect and curiosity rather than opposition and defense, and how to learn from those with whom you disagree.  

I try to incorporate the lessons I learned from that day into my daily work with children, and adults, and in reality I try to practice it in my life outside of work too, because when it comes down to it, I think the world is a better place when we engage with one another, and have the courage to ask "what do you need?"