Conflict Resolution

This past Monday, Ian and I had our quarterly meeting with Jackson's preschool teachers (yep, he's considered a preschooler now). They started off by telling us how he is such a happy boy, full of energy, and a delight to have in the class. Then they started telling us that the newest arrivals (which included Jackson and 7 of his little friends) were currently working on understanding conflict resolution (aren't we all?). They diplomatically proceeded to tell us that Jackson was making great improvements, but that his primary method of conflict resolution involved hands and tears. They were working on helping him to use his words instead of pushing, hitting, or crying. I asked how they taught conflict resolution. They said they had several steps involving identifying the problem, telling both sides of the story, coming up with a potential solution, determining if the solution was acceptable to both parties, and if not, proposing alternate solutions. I got overwhelmed at the idea that these teachers spent all day doing this with 2.5 to 4.5 year olds.

On Thursday, I went to pick up Jackson. He was over by the bookshelf, deciding on which book to "read" next. After he gave me his perfunctory hello kiss, he told me he wanted to read one more book. Just as he picked up a book, Z (whose name will remain anonymous to protect his identity) swooped in and grabbed it out of his hands. Jackson immediately started crying (see post below for an example of the type of cry). I started sweating a bit. The teacher was on the other side of the room talking to one of the other parents. I reminded Jackson to tell Z that he was using it. Despite two vehement declarations of "I was using that", Z continued reading through Jackson's desired book in a rather unfazed manner. The teacher was still not available. Jackson was still crying loudly. So I asked the two boys (yep, the perpetrator was another boy...who will remain anonymous) if they could think of a solution to the problem. From a few yards away, JJ ran over and picked up a random book and tried to shove it in Jackson's hand. "He-ah, Jasson. Read this," she implored. M also left his books and ran over, giving Jackson a brief pat on the back. "Don't cry. It's okay," he suggested. Z looked up then and suggested, "We could share it." He moved his body slightly to make room for Jackson to sit down next to him. "Share it, Jackson, share it," M agreed, jumping up and down excitedly. Z looked up at Jackson, who was not making any moves to sit next to him. He then speed-read the rest of the book and handed it over with a sweet expression and his trademark cocked head. "Oh, sank you!" Jackson declared. Tears stopped, smile returned, and all was well in the world. If only adult conflict resolution efforts were so successful.

Clarice