Sometimes It Takes More Than a Band- Aid

A long time ago, in VERY distant past, I came across the woman who would ultimately inform my decisions about how to problem solve in the classroom with my students. The moment I went in to her preschool classroom as a substitute, I knew that she was different. And I wanted to be different too.

So imagine this. I was new to all this little people stuff. I hadn't been in a preschool classroom since I was literally in preschool. Everything was perfectly miniaturized for little bodies. And the kids! Tiniest hands I had held in years. I thought it would be fun to be a sub at a preschool, but I really just wanted to earn a few extra bucks for dollar beer night at my favorite bar I spent a LOT of time at during college. It's the end of my first day, and it was a LONG day, and a lot more work than I thought. I mean after all, how much work can 4 year olds be? All that was left of the day was choice time. Thank God. I could just let the kids play (ha!). As I was watching the clock for 3:30, I was also watching a little boy joyfully pretending to be a hairdresser in the housekeeping corner. His name was Robert. He was the skinniest little kid I had ever seen. He was a fair skinned black boy, with enormous brown eyes. He had a soft gentle voice, but could throw a punch when necessary. I loved everything about him. To pretend he was a hairdresser, he donned a dress and began "doing" all the other kids hair. Apparently he was a fabulous hairdresser, because there was quite the line.

Before I continue, it's important to tell you that this was not your ordinary preschool. This was preschool was actually inside what was an apartment complex where single parent families were living until they could piece their lives back together again. There were no fathers, just mothers transitioning from abuse, alcohol addiction, and prison among other things. These children, along with their mothers, had been through a great deal of trauma in their short lives. Our preschool was a combination of children from the attached apartments as well as children from the community that surrounded the apartment complex.

Now back to Robert. While he was busily doing hair and chit-chatting with the patrons of "Robert's Hair Care" his classmate Sarah, who was watching him with her thumb in her mouth and mad eyes, stomped over to him, looked him in the eye and fiercely yelled the meanest thing her little brain could think of. "You make an ugly girl! Boys don't wear dresses and they don't do hair." With that she grabbed his hairbrush out of his hand, threw it across the floor and stamped away feeling confident she had made her point.

Robert stood there in shock. After a few moments, his big, beautiful brown eyes slowly began to well with tears. He didn't make a sound. Then, like a dam that's been broken, the tears flowed quickly. There was just so much sad, wet on his face. Sarah had hurt him from the outside in and the inside out. A caveat for my little lovie Sarah, she had not been around a parent that modeled empathy and kindness. Her mom was too busy trying to stay sober. Sarah was just replaying what she'd seen and heard. I think Robert taking on that role scared her because it seemed strange and unfamiliar. What she did, was the only way she knew how to say that. It doesn't excuse her unkindness, but it does give meaning to it.

As I watched these events unfold, Debbie walked quickly over to Robert, got down on her knees and asked Robert what he needed. He didn't know, but when she sat down next to him, he fell into her lap as he cried great, heaving sobs. Debbie sat with him, and I sat Sarah down in a chair away from him. I was REALLY mad at her.

After he and Sarah had settled down, Debbie invited Sarah over to the floor with them. I was confused. Wasn't she in a time out? Debbie then asked Sarah, "Do you see Robert's face? He is so sad right now." Sarah just looked at them both with a blank stare and said nothing. Debbie waited a moment then asked, "Robert, can you tell Sarah what she did that made you so sad?" Robert was NOT use to speaking up for himself. I'm not sure he even knew he the voice to do that, but with Debbie's help, he was able to relay to Sarah the exact facts of what had happened. When he was done, there was still no response from Sarah. Then Debbie softly asked Robert, "Robert, what do you need from Sarah to make you feel better? What does she need to do to fix this?"

I was shocked. Clearly she was going about this all wrong! Robert shouldn't have to explain why he's mad! Why was she using such a calm, kind voice with Sarah? Where was the time out? Where was the threat to call home? Where was the punishment?????? I was incensed, dumbfounded. And I thought Debbie was a seasoned teacher. Bah. Clearly she had missed this section of her Behavior Management course!

Despite my trepidation, I gave Debbie the benefit of the doubt and kept listening. Robert whispered something in Debbie's ear. Then he whispered something else. WHAT WAS HE WHISPERING???? I could hardly stand it. Debbie looked at Robert and said, "I heard you, now Sarah needs to hear you. I want you to look Sarah in the eye and tell her what she did that hurt your feelings." My ears started to perk up. This was a new twist in the apology game...skeptically I thought, maybe there is a rhyme or reason to this.

Robert kept his head in Debbie's chest and said nothing to Sarah. Debbie said softly to him, "Go on, it's ok, I will help you." With that Debbie started Robert's sentence for him, because sometimes, a kid just needs a spring board to get started talking. She said, "Sarah when you came and"... Robert gently interjected, " yelled scary, mean things to me," His tears began to well up again. "It's ok buddy, you're doing great," she whispered, "keep going." "You yelled scary, mean things to me you and hurt my heart." He stopped, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Is there anything else Robert?, Debbie asked. "You grabbed my brush. You almost broke it. That was mean." Robert told her. He needed no encouragement with that statement. His soft, sad voice had grown in volume and confidence with the guidance and encouragement of his teacher. Her lap, was his safe space.

After listening to Robert, there was still no response from Sarah. During Robert's recall of how he felt and what happened, Debbie prompted Sarah several times: "Sarah, I need you to look at Robert while he is talking to you." It seemed as though Sarah had no remorse. I was losing my patience with both of them, Sarah AND Debbie. I was intrigued by how Debbie was working with Robert, but seriously, when was Sarah going to get sent to the office? This was taking way too long. I sensed paintbrushes being tossed about behind me....

Finally, Debbie looked at Sarah and asked, "What did Robert just say?" I was stunned when I heard Sarah repeat Robert's words of frustration. After she finished repeating what Robert told her Debbie firmly said, "I need you to fix this for Robert." Sarah looked at Robert and suddenly said, "How can I make it better?"

What the hell??? I thought. I was stunned. What 4 year old asks THAT question?

Robert told her while looking her in the eye, "Please get my hair brush back to me." Debbie quickly interjected, "Robert you do not need to say 'please'. He tried again. "Get my hair brush back to me. And I need you to leave me alone." he said softly. Sarah got the hairbrush, handed it to him, and walked away. Robert got back to his hair dressing and Debbie sat back down with her and they began to problem solve Sarah's behavior together. I was speechless. Clearly, this was a classroom practice, not just a one time thing. The children had been coached and supported in this process since the beginning of the school year. I had finally come around. Debbie WAS a seasoned teacher.

For the first time, I had witness something called, "Restorative Justice." In Restorative Justice, the only time the offender says, "I'm sorry" is when they are asked to by the victim.

Those are odd words to describe young children, victim and offender, but I'm going to use them for the rest of this post for the purpose of continuity and clarity.

I believe anyone reading this is either aware of or well versed in Restorative Justice, but in case anyone needs a refresher, it's a controlled system where the offender can make amends to the victim, take responsibility for what they have done, and within those conversations, restore the community back to a whole. No vacant,"I'm sorries." No public shame or humiliation. The offender's behavior is still addressed, and so are the needs of the victim. Both of these things can live in the same space.

Over the last 12 years, I have made Restorative Justice a consistent practice in my classroom, regardless of the student's age. It took me a bit of time to practice with my students, and get the feel for the rhythm that goes along with it. I had to force myself to unlearn what I had been taught as a child by my parents, and my teachers, about how to make things right when you have hurt someone. Usually the focus was on correcting my behavior, not taking care of the person I had hurt.

My administrators like Restorative Justice. This is because the only times I have called down to the office was when the offender was putting their classmates in danger (usually throwing big things like chairs etc...) or were a danger to themselves. You can learn a lot about a child's ability to empathize and show remorse with Restorative Justice, it's a wonderful spring- board for class conversations around classroom as a community. Restorative Justice creates bonds between teachers and students alike. It creates a safe space where children can live, make mistakes, and fix them without feeling ashamed. It's the behavior that is "bad". Not the child. It's about children taking responsibility for their actions in a way that can be meaningful to both parties.

I have overheard other teachers on the playground address similar situations with, "Say your sorry!" The offender says they're sorry, sometimes meaning it, sometimes not, sometimes not even looking the victim in the eye. Once the apology has been made, the teacher says, "Now off you two go. Be kind!" I completely get that. This is what we have been taught. This works for us because it is a quick fix. We don't have a lot of time to sit and break things down with our students. This is the kind of thing that is hard to make time for in the classroom or on the playground where a million other things are happening. It may be something that has to wait until there is a space for it.

I also appreciate the use of an apology. It is a great place to start. For me though, it just doesn't feel like it should be the stopping point. It's very likely that the victim doesn't want just an apology. How many times has someone said "I'm sorry" to you and as you walked away you rolled your eyes and thought, that's a load of bullshit. Once I had a teammate say some really unkind things to me. She'd pulled out all her knives for that conversation. When all was said and done,I was angry as hell and I didn't want an apology. First I just wanted her to leave me alone so I could breath. After that, I wanted her to acknowledge that she had hurt my feelings with her words. I wanted her to ask me how she could fix my feelings. But instead she said, "I'm sorry," and went about her business as if I was suddenly OK. I WASN'T OK! I was actually pretty resentful about what she had said, and it took me some time before I felt comfortable around her again. I'm sure she meant well. I'm sure she believed that saying "I'm sorry,"was the right thing to do. I know I should have stood up for myself when she said she was sorry, but that's a whole other blog post. She was irritated with me because she couldn't understand why I couldn't "just get over it."

The whole incident between my teammate and I made the days after, stressful. not just for the two of us, but for the whole team. If she had asked me how she could make things better between us, I'd have healed more quickly, and so would our team. Offender acknowledges and gives restitution, victim begins to heal, community begins to heal. It can heal both adults and children alike. Restorative Justice conversations in the classroom are not band-aids to quickly stop the bleeding. Restorative Justice conversations in the classroom are the stitches that allow the wound fully heal.