On the last day of my first year of teaching, Tasha, a chronic talker with a loud voice, told me, "You
were too easy on us. You let us get away with murder."
I laughed and said, "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"
She answered, "I was having too much fun!"
We both smiled as she sauntered out the door, but as soon as she was gone, my smile vanished. Could Tasha be
right? Had I let the kids get away with murder? Maybe. I was so eager not to be punitive, to be liked by everyone,
that I overlooked what I considered petty stuff-- kids interrupting each other or putting each other down or someone
shouting across the room. Why spoil an interesting lesson by making a big deal over a few minor transgressions?
But Tasha had let me know that she had taken advantage of my desire to be "nice." And she probably wasn't
the only one. I resolved to be tougher next year--to lay down the rules on the first day of class and to be strict
about enforcing them. But after a few weeks into September I found myself slipping again. For instance, my idea
of a good discussion is a lively, free-flowing exchange with one thought sparking another. If one student excitedly
interrupted another, that didn't seem like a cardinal sin to me. If someone disagreed with what she heard, and
in the heat of the moment sneered, "That's stupid," I let it go. But as the interruptions and put-downs
grew, our class discussions rapidly degenerated into noisy brawls.
Still, I couldn't bring myself to dampen the enthusiasm with reminders and reprimands. Maybe I was naive, but
my expectation was that at some point the kids themselves would realize that they should start being more civil
to each other. The only realization that came was mine. These kids weren't about to change unless their teacher
changed. They needed an adult to teach them some basic social skills and to insist that they use them. But how
would I go about it? I thought about the chapter on problem solving in How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen
So Kids Will Talk. The theory is that when parents and children examine problems and work out solutions together,
children are much more likely to try to make those solutions work.
An interesting idea. I studied the step-by-step process for problem solving and wrote out my own adaptation
for possible use with my class:
Listen to my students'feelings and needs.
Summarize their point of view.
Express my feelings and needs.
Invite the class to brainstorm with me to find a solution.
Write down all ideas- without evaluating.
Together decide which ideas we plan to use and how we plan to implement them.
As I reviewed the six steps, I felt momentarily overwhelmed. Could I actually steer the class through this whole
long, complicated process? Then again, maybe it wouldn't be as hard as it seemed. "Basically," I told
myself, "it's a matter of the kids expressing their feelings, of me expressing mine, and then all of us working
together on finding solutions." Certainly it was worth a try.
Important changes took place as a result of that problem-solving session. The number of interruptions dropped
dramatically. Those few students who continued to interrupt would catch themselves and say, "Oops," or
"Sorry," and then politely wait their turn. But the most gratifying outcome for me was the respectful
way the kids began to listen to each other. Even those who slipped back into an unthinking "that's stupid!"
were stopped in their tracks by a class groan. Typically, the offender would give an embarrassed smile, look at
the board, and mechanically read, "I don't see it that way." Everyone would laugh, but even though it
was a rote recitation, the new words changed the tone of the discussion. Best of all, I didn't have to worry about
being the "put-down policeman." My students were in charge of monitoring themselves.
I was so proud of their new self-control and growing sensitivity to one another that on "Meet the Teacher"
night I decided to tell the parents about it. After everyone was seated, I greeted the parents and shared my goals
for the term. Then, I described the problem the class had had and the process we used to resolve it. The parents
seemed interested. A flurry of comments and questions followed.
Clearly they all wanted to know more. I explained that I had no experience using these methods as a parent but
that, if they were interested, I'd be glad to share what I had discovered as a teacher. They were very interested.
I started by explaining that the more I experimented with the problem-solving approach, the more I realized how
much I had to keep in mind in order to make it work. Here are the highlights of what I told the parents I had learned
from trial and error:
Don't even try to problem solve if you're feeling rushed or agitated. In order to tackle a difficult problem
successfully, you need time, a clear head, and inner calm.
The first step- hearing the children out- is the most important. My tendency was to rush through this beginning
step in order to get to the "good part," namely, brainstorming for as many solutions as possible. I've
since learned that students are not willing to work on finding solutions until their feelings have been acknowledged.
Be brief when expressing your feelings. The kids could listen attentively to a short statement of what I felt,
but they'd tune me out if I went on and on about my worry or my frustration or my resentment.
Resist the urge to evaluate their suggestions. It was very hard for me to keep myself from commenting when
the kids came up with solutions that were clearly "off the wall." The time I said, "There is no
way we could do that," was the time the whole problem-solving process screeched to a halt. No one offered
a single suggestion after that. If you want to get the wheels of creativity spinning, you have to welcome every
idea- no matter how nutty: "Okay, anyone who interrupts has to have his mouth taped up for a week. I've got
that down. What else?"
Make sure to work out a plan to implement the final decision. I had to learn not to let myself relax in the
glow of having helped to facilitate a wonderful solution. The best of intentions can go down the drain unless everyone
agrees on a method for putting the solution into action and then deciding who will be responsible for what.
Don't lose heart if the plan fails. It's easy to berate the kids for not following through on their own plan.
The one time I did, the class became sullen and hostile. I finally learned that it was much wiser to schedule another
meeting and figure out what went wrong and how to fix it. In other words, one problem-solving session might not
be enough. By returning to the drawing board you can usually find answers you missed the first time around.
Summary
Using the unique communications strategies, down-to-earth dialogues, and delightful cartoons
that are the hallmark of their multimillion-copy bestseller How to talk So Kids Will Listen
and Listen So Kids Will Talk, Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish show parents and teachers
how to help children handle the everyday problems that interfere with learning.
This breakthrough demonstrates how parents and teachers can join forces to inspire kids to be
self-directed, self-diciplined, and responsive to the wonders of learning.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
How This Book Came to Be
Who Is "I"?
1. How to Deal with Feelings That Interfere with Learning
2. Seven Skills That Invite Kids to Cooperate
3. The Pitfalls of Punishment: Alternatives That Lead to Self-Discipline
4. Solving Problems Together: Six Steps That Engage Children's Creativity and Commitment
5. Praise That Doesn't Demean, Criticism That Doesn't Wound
6. How to Free a Child Who Is Locked in a Role
7. The Parent-Teacher Partnership
8. The Dream Catcher
