No Bullies No Victims
A story about pre-schoolers
negotiating playground peace
negotiating playground peace
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“Noah. Stop!” I shouted.
He turned and seeing me, he ran. The three girls also took off, only in the other direction.
I didn’t know where to begin. I knew Noah understood that he was frightening his friends, so why was he doing it? My worst fears surfaced. Did Noah have no sense of right and wrong? Would he grow up to be a psycho? And those girls - weren’t they just being prissy? They’d rather cry and cower than stand up for themselves?
I found him sitting under the deck; his knees pulled up and head down. He seemed determined to ignore me. The ground was squishy from the morning’s rain and in order to get face to face with him, I plunked down beside him. Wet mud seeped through the seat of my jeans.
“Noah,” I said. Silence.
“Noah. Look at me please.” I waited another moment as I lifted Noah’s chin and we made eye contact. Such anger in those beautiful blue eyes! What was he thinking? Would he let me know? He yanked his head away and thrust his bottom lip into a pout.
“Ahhh good,” I thought, “I’ve got a connection.”
Lifting myself up out of the mud I turned to him. “I want you to come out of there and we’ll find a place to talk.” He scrambled out on all fours and stood up giving me the famous pre-schooler scowl-arms-across-the-chest-foot-stomp. I appreciated the comic relief of that look and warned myself, “Don’t laugh,” as I wondered who looked funnier, Noah or me with my wet bum.
I found a couple of chairs away from where the other kids would hear us. “What were you doing with the kids behind the shed Noah?” I asked, not knowing if he’d be able to talk about his anger.
"I don’t know,” he mumbled into his jacket.
“It looked like you were really really angry with them,” I suggested.
Noah’s frown relaxed a little but he didn’t say anything.
After a moment, I asked,
“Were you angry with them Noah?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“How come?”
"I don’t know,” he said glumly, keeping his head down.
I was stumped. Maybe this time he won’t know the ‘why’ behind his anger. I decided to let that go and move on. Surely there’d be another opportunity, another day to help him explore the things that made him angry. For now perhaps he’d talk to me about his angry behaviour.
“You were scaring the girls. What were you doing?”
“I was saying, “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.” Noah spoke softly, matter-of-factly.
“Those are pretty scary words Noah!”
“Yes,” Noah agreed.
I needed more information. “Noah, will you wait here for a couple of minutes while I try to figure this out?” I found Emily, Cierra and Annie in the sandbox playing with the dollhouse and horses.
This picture looked wrong to me: Noah was far over on the other side of the yard, the odd one out, while the three girls were happily playing in the sand with the horses and dollhouse. Noah needed a pathway back to the group. I sat in the sand with them, hopeful that we would have some insights.
“Emily,” I asked. “What was happening at the shed?”
She squatted back on her heels and looked at the ground. “We were playing monster and Annie told Noah she would tell on him and he said he will fight me and kill me.”
I was baffled. What had happened between ‘We were playing monster’ and ‘He said he will kill me’? How had their game taken the kids to such heights of anger?
It was Annie’s turn to talk. She was eager to contribute. “Emily and I and Cierra let Noah play with us and we were playing and he was the roaring monster and we ran away from him and then he didn’t let us run away and he went like this.” Annie jumped up and demonstrated the blocking stance I’d seen Noah use behind the shed.
Noah liked to roar. He had become the ‘expert’ roarer in the group. Noah’s language development wasn’t as sophisticated as the others and at times I wondered if he roared as a way to get into a game. I decided to check this out.
“Were you taking turns being the monster?”
“No,” Emily said. “Noah always roars so we have to run away from him so he’s always the monster.”
I guessed she felt obligated to adjust their game and accommodate the other children. Our playground rule was that the children had to include any child who wanted to join them and that wasn’t always easy to do. Maybe Emily could tell me what that was like for her; letting rather than inviting Noah to play.
“Emily, I want to talk about how you let Noah play with you.”
“Uh huh.” She carefully drew a wide circle of sand with her finger and sat down in the middle of it. She was enjoying the attention and seemed to appreciate speaking her thoughts.
“Do you like Noah?”
"Yes,” she said slowly, as if curious what was coming next.
"You know you don’t have to say you do like him if you don’t.” If she told me she didn’t like Noah, I wouldn’t try to change her mind.
“I know,” she assured me.
“So you like Noah but you don’t like his roaring.”
“That’s right,” Emily agreed.
That’s right,” Emily agreed.
“Perhaps you can invite Noah into the game to do something different?”
“But what can he be?” she questioned. “He can’t be the king horse because I am the king horse!” She threw up her hands in frustration.
Aha! So this is where we were stuck. They liked Noah but didn’t have a workable way to invite him into their play. So they gave him the role of alien. But Noah was becoming sensitive to the exclusion.
“It’s your game Emily, so I can’t answer that question. You and Annie and Cierra can think on that together.”
If Noah felt excluded and couldn’t see his way back ‘in’, I could begin to understand his anger. Had the rules in this game broken down? Did Noah feel hopeless in this standoff of three against one? Did he attempt to overturn their rule with a violent showdown of one against three? I tucked these important questions away for later. For now, I wanted to hear from the girls how they would handle an aggressor the next time.
Four-year-old Cierra quietly concentrated on her play while she listened to us. “Cierra, I’d like to talk with you for a moment.” She looked up at me.
“How come you didn’t just run past Noah to come and get me?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled
"Because she was afraid Noah was going to hurt her!” Annie asserted.
He turned and seeing me, he ran. The three girls also took off, only in the other direction.
I didn’t know where to begin. I knew Noah understood that he was frightening his friends, so why was he doing it? My worst fears surfaced. Did Noah have no sense of right and wrong? Would he grow up to be a psycho? And those girls - weren’t they just being prissy? They’d rather cry and cower than stand up for themselves?
I found him sitting under the deck; his knees pulled up and head down. He seemed determined to ignore me. The ground was squishy from the morning’s rain and in order to get face to face with him, I plunked down beside him. Wet mud seeped through the seat of my jeans.
“Noah,” I said. Silence.
“Noah. Look at me please.” I waited another moment as I lifted Noah’s chin and we made eye contact. Such anger in those beautiful blue eyes! What was he thinking? Would he let me know? He yanked his head away and thrust his bottom lip into a pout.
“Ahhh good,” I thought, “I’ve got a connection.”
Lifting myself up out of the mud I turned to him. “I want you to come out of there and we’ll find a place to talk.” He scrambled out on all fours and stood up giving me the famous pre-schooler scowl-arms-across-the-chest-foot-stomp. I appreciated the comic relief of that look and warned myself, “Don’t laugh,” as I wondered who looked funnier, Noah or me with my wet bum.
I found a couple of chairs away from where the other kids would hear us. “What were you doing with the kids behind the shed Noah?” I asked, not knowing if he’d be able to talk about his anger.
"I don’t know,” he mumbled into his jacket.
“It looked like you were really really angry with them,” I suggested.
Noah’s frown relaxed a little but he didn’t say anything.
After a moment, I asked,
“Were you angry with them Noah?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“How come?”
"I don’t know,” he said glumly, keeping his head down.
I was stumped. Maybe this time he won’t know the ‘why’ behind his anger. I decided to let that go and move on. Surely there’d be another opportunity, another day to help him explore the things that made him angry. For now perhaps he’d talk to me about his angry behaviour.
“You were scaring the girls. What were you doing?”
“I was saying, “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.” Noah spoke softly, matter-of-factly.
“Those are pretty scary words Noah!”
“Yes,” Noah agreed.
I needed more information. “Noah, will you wait here for a couple of minutes while I try to figure this out?” I found Emily, Cierra and Annie in the sandbox playing with the dollhouse and horses.
This picture looked wrong to me: Noah was far over on the other side of the yard, the odd one out, while the three girls were happily playing in the sand with the horses and dollhouse. Noah needed a pathway back to the group. I sat in the sand with them, hopeful that we would have some insights.
“Emily,” I asked. “What was happening at the shed?”
She squatted back on her heels and looked at the ground. “We were playing monster and Annie told Noah she would tell on him and he said he will fight me and kill me.”
I was baffled. What had happened between ‘We were playing monster’ and ‘He said he will kill me’? How had their game taken the kids to such heights of anger?
It was Annie’s turn to talk. She was eager to contribute. “Emily and I and Cierra let Noah play with us and we were playing and he was the roaring monster and we ran away from him and then he didn’t let us run away and he went like this.” Annie jumped up and demonstrated the blocking stance I’d seen Noah use behind the shed.
Noah liked to roar. He had become the ‘expert’ roarer in the group. Noah’s language development wasn’t as sophisticated as the others and at times I wondered if he roared as a way to get into a game. I decided to check this out.
“Were you taking turns being the monster?”
“No,” Emily said. “Noah always roars so we have to run away from him so he’s always the monster.”
I guessed she felt obligated to adjust their game and accommodate the other children. Our playground rule was that the children had to include any child who wanted to join them and that wasn’t always easy to do. Maybe Emily could tell me what that was like for her; letting rather than inviting Noah to play.
“Emily, I want to talk about how you let Noah play with you.”
“Uh huh.” She carefully drew a wide circle of sand with her finger and sat down in the middle of it. She was enjoying the attention and seemed to appreciate speaking her thoughts.
“Do you like Noah?”
"Yes,” she said slowly, as if curious what was coming next.
"You know you don’t have to say you do like him if you don’t.” If she told me she didn’t like Noah, I wouldn’t try to change her mind.
“I know,” she assured me.
“So you like Noah but you don’t like his roaring.”
“That’s right,” Emily agreed.
That’s right,” Emily agreed.
“Perhaps you can invite Noah into the game to do something different?”
“But what can he be?” she questioned. “He can’t be the king horse because I am the king horse!” She threw up her hands in frustration.
Aha! So this is where we were stuck. They liked Noah but didn’t have a workable way to invite him into their play. So they gave him the role of alien. But Noah was becoming sensitive to the exclusion.
“It’s your game Emily, so I can’t answer that question. You and Annie and Cierra can think on that together.”
If Noah felt excluded and couldn’t see his way back ‘in’, I could begin to understand his anger. Had the rules in this game broken down? Did Noah feel hopeless in this standoff of three against one? Did he attempt to overturn their rule with a violent showdown of one against three? I tucked these important questions away for later. For now, I wanted to hear from the girls how they would handle an aggressor the next time.
Four-year-old Cierra quietly concentrated on her play while she listened to us. “Cierra, I’d like to talk with you for a moment.” She looked up at me.
“How come you didn’t just run past Noah to come and get me?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled
"Because she was afraid Noah was going to hurt her!” Annie asserted.
Yes.” Cierra spoke quietly.
“How was he going to hurt you?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Did he have anything in his hand?”
“No.”
“Were you afraid he’d get something he could use to hurt you?”
“I don’t know.”
Cierra had reached the limit. I could see she really couldn’t explain why she became afraid of Noah. I wanted her and the others to have a strategy next time. I wanted them to look at how they might take action to turn the situation around before it got out of hand.
“I know that was really scary for you,” I said, speaking to all three. “Noah was wrong to try to scare you. And he was wrong to use those words. Those are violent words. Even when we’re really, really angry it’s not okay to use them. Was there anything you could have done to get away from Noah?”
I saw a grin creeping in between Annie and Cierra. I paused, then asked “What are you two thinking?”
Annie’s face lit up. “We could just grab hands and run right past that Noah!” She demonstrated by yanking Cierra by the hand and dragging her to the other side of the sand box. “Like that!” she announced and Cierra went down in a fit of giggles
I tried to keep looking serious, but my heart was chuckling. They had gotten the point! There were three of them and between them they were stronger than the actual threat. I’ll never know how Noah managed to scare them so deeply. In the future if these girls find themselves in a similar situation hopefully they’ll be able to ‘get past’ the trouble and go for help.
I looked over at Emily who had gone back to her play with the dollhouse.
“Emily, I’m going to tell Noah its okay for him to come over here to play if he wants to. What can you say to him if asks you if he can play dollhouse and horses with you girls?”
Emily answered me thoughtfully “I’ll tell him he can play with us.”
“What will you say if he says he wants to be the monster?”
“I’ll say okay you can be the monster.”
“But Emily,” I ventured. “Are you sure you want a monster in your dollhouse?”
She looked at me. “No. Not really.”
“Then why don’t you tell him that?”
“Because we have to play with him,” she said, now getting irritated with me and my inclusion rule.....
"Yes.” I agreed. “But you don’t have to play rules you don’t like.”
“But he always has to be the monster!” she grumbled.
I stressed again that I would help them and Noah make the rules for this next game. They agreed they didn’t want a monster in their dollhouse play but I reminded myself that in the end, the rules had to betheir own, not mine. Noah was still sitting where I left him. His fury was gone. I pulled the chair around front so we could talk eye-to-eye.
“Noah, why did you shout those words, “I’ll kill you” at the girls?”
“Because I want them to play with me,” he said sadly.
Oh Noah, I wanted to wail! If only we were born trusting that we are lovable! This is such a mighty hard lesson to learn. In the ten minutes of waiting for me, his anger had moved to sullen resignation. He had tried to get in and had failed. Even aggression had failed him.
I took his hands in mine and asked “Noah, did that work? Did they want to play with you after you scared them?”
“No.”
“What do you think will work better next time you want the girls to play with you?” He was quiet. He didn’t know.
“Emily likes you Noah.”
“She likes me?” he repeated.
"Yup. She just told me.” I watched a tiny curl at the corner of his mouth grow into a smile.
“You know Noah, those words ‘I’ll kill you,’ they’re very scary and violent. When you yell those words it’s like throwing stones. If you yell them again Noah, even when you’re pretending, I will put you on a time-out.” Noah nodded, seeming to understand. Now it was time for him to move toward reconciliation. It wasn’t important that he tell the girls right away that he was ‘sorry.’ He would be ready to say it when he actually felt that way. Right now it was more important that he re-gain their trust.
“Noah, I want you to tell the girls that you’ll try not to yell at them again,” I said as we walked over to the sandbox, wanting him to practice taking responsibility for his behavhior. Squatting down, I asked the girls for their attention. They looked up from their toys to listen.
"I won’t yell at you again,” Noah mumbled without much conviction but the girls accepted his words and went back to their play. I gave Noah a hug.
“Would you like to play with them? They’re playing dollhouse and horses. Go ahead and ask if you can play?”
Smiling shyly, Noah asked, “May I play with you?”
Emily moved over to make room for Noah beside beside her. “Sure you can play Noah. Here’s a horse.”
Noah took the horse in his hand and clumped it onto the roof of the house and went, “Rooooaarrrrrr!”
Emily caught my eye and threw her hands up in mock exasperation. I smiled and took a deep breath. At least for the next few moments we were partners in that sandbox with a game plan to construct. Together the children and I were successful including Noah. Though children instinctively want to make friends, their self-centeredness, which is normal for their age, gets in the way. Inclusion can be very challenging and playground rules that promote fairness, help. When a child, such as Emily, trusts she will be treated fairly she feels more able to watch out for the needs of others.
Conflict is never nice, but it provides lessons. This conflict gave the kids insights about themselves and opportunities to practice effective responses.
“How was he going to hurt you?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Did he have anything in his hand?”
“No.”
“Were you afraid he’d get something he could use to hurt you?”
“I don’t know.”
Cierra had reached the limit. I could see she really couldn’t explain why she became afraid of Noah. I wanted her and the others to have a strategy next time. I wanted them to look at how they might take action to turn the situation around before it got out of hand.
“I know that was really scary for you,” I said, speaking to all three. “Noah was wrong to try to scare you. And he was wrong to use those words. Those are violent words. Even when we’re really, really angry it’s not okay to use them. Was there anything you could have done to get away from Noah?”
I saw a grin creeping in between Annie and Cierra. I paused, then asked “What are you two thinking?”
Annie’s face lit up. “We could just grab hands and run right past that Noah!” She demonstrated by yanking Cierra by the hand and dragging her to the other side of the sand box. “Like that!” she announced and Cierra went down in a fit of giggles
I tried to keep looking serious, but my heart was chuckling. They had gotten the point! There were three of them and between them they were stronger than the actual threat. I’ll never know how Noah managed to scare them so deeply. In the future if these girls find themselves in a similar situation hopefully they’ll be able to ‘get past’ the trouble and go for help.
I looked over at Emily who had gone back to her play with the dollhouse.
“Emily, I’m going to tell Noah its okay for him to come over here to play if he wants to. What can you say to him if asks you if he can play dollhouse and horses with you girls?”
Emily answered me thoughtfully “I’ll tell him he can play with us.”
“What will you say if he says he wants to be the monster?”
“I’ll say okay you can be the monster.”
“But Emily,” I ventured. “Are you sure you want a monster in your dollhouse?”
She looked at me. “No. Not really.”
“Then why don’t you tell him that?”
“Because we have to play with him,” she said, now getting irritated with me and my inclusion rule.....
"Yes.” I agreed. “But you don’t have to play rules you don’t like.”
“But he always has to be the monster!” she grumbled.
I stressed again that I would help them and Noah make the rules for this next game. They agreed they didn’t want a monster in their dollhouse play but I reminded myself that in the end, the rules had to betheir own, not mine. Noah was still sitting where I left him. His fury was gone. I pulled the chair around front so we could talk eye-to-eye.
“Noah, why did you shout those words, “I’ll kill you” at the girls?”
“Because I want them to play with me,” he said sadly.
Oh Noah, I wanted to wail! If only we were born trusting that we are lovable! This is such a mighty hard lesson to learn. In the ten minutes of waiting for me, his anger had moved to sullen resignation. He had tried to get in and had failed. Even aggression had failed him.
I took his hands in mine and asked “Noah, did that work? Did they want to play with you after you scared them?”
“No.”
“What do you think will work better next time you want the girls to play with you?” He was quiet. He didn’t know.
“Emily likes you Noah.”
“She likes me?” he repeated.
"Yup. She just told me.” I watched a tiny curl at the corner of his mouth grow into a smile.
“You know Noah, those words ‘I’ll kill you,’ they’re very scary and violent. When you yell those words it’s like throwing stones. If you yell them again Noah, even when you’re pretending, I will put you on a time-out.” Noah nodded, seeming to understand. Now it was time for him to move toward reconciliation. It wasn’t important that he tell the girls right away that he was ‘sorry.’ He would be ready to say it when he actually felt that way. Right now it was more important that he re-gain their trust.
“Noah, I want you to tell the girls that you’ll try not to yell at them again,” I said as we walked over to the sandbox, wanting him to practice taking responsibility for his behavhior. Squatting down, I asked the girls for their attention. They looked up from their toys to listen.
"I won’t yell at you again,” Noah mumbled without much conviction but the girls accepted his words and went back to their play. I gave Noah a hug.
“Would you like to play with them? They’re playing dollhouse and horses. Go ahead and ask if you can play?”
Smiling shyly, Noah asked, “May I play with you?”
Emily moved over to make room for Noah beside beside her. “Sure you can play Noah. Here’s a horse.”
Noah took the horse in his hand and clumped it onto the roof of the house and went, “Rooooaarrrrrr!”
Emily caught my eye and threw her hands up in mock exasperation. I smiled and took a deep breath. At least for the next few moments we were partners in that sandbox with a game plan to construct. Together the children and I were successful including Noah. Though children instinctively want to make friends, their self-centeredness, which is normal for their age, gets in the way. Inclusion can be very challenging and playground rules that promote fairness, help. When a child, such as Emily, trusts she will be treated fairly she feels more able to watch out for the needs of others.
Conflict is never nice, but it provides lessons. This conflict gave the kids insights about themselves and opportunities to practice effective responses.
Cierra and Annie realized their fear could block a route to safety and they practiced what they might do next time
.
Noah discovered that he felt horribly angry because he didn’t know how to make friends. He got a chance to practice speaking his intent to play well and to ask for what he wanted.
Emily, the oldest child in the group, learned that sometimes even the teacher needs help figuring out how we were all going to get along; that it’s okay to feel frustrated and a solution might be found in a partnership.
.
Noah discovered that he felt horribly angry because he didn’t know how to make friends. He got a chance to practice speaking his intent to play well and to ask for what he wanted.
Emily, the oldest child in the group, learned that sometimes even the teacher needs help figuring out how we were all going to get along; that it’s okay to feel frustrated and a solution might be found in a partnership.
And I learned yet again not to pre-judge an outcome but to work toward a resolution with the children, step by step.
Peace negotiations take skill and childhood is the right time to practice.
I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”
Heart pounding in fear and holding back my alarm, I headed across the play yard in the direction of the screams. This did not sound like the usual chase and capture play of the boys going after the girls. I couldn’t see the kids but their screams and yelling told me it was no game. Arriving at the scene I found three-year-old Noah, small for his age, standing with his feet apart in a blocking stance, apparently to stop anyone who might try to pass him. Then I saw the three terrified girls he was cornering, their backs flat up against the fence and tears of fear streaming down their cheeks. His face red with fury, he thrust his fist at them aggressively, yelling, “I’ll kill you!” over and over.
How could this be? All four children were under five-years-old, yet here was one small child holding control over three! The bully wasn’t even wielding a weapon and any one of the victims could have pushed past him easily. I had seen those girls, Cierra, Emily and Annie, in action before and I’d hardly describe them as mild mannered or delicate! So what hold did this angry child have on these normally assertive kids?
Heart pounding in fear and holding back my alarm, I headed across the play yard in the direction of the screams. This did not sound like the usual chase and capture play of the boys going after the girls. I couldn’t see the kids but their screams and yelling told me it was no game. Arriving at the scene I found three-year-old Noah, small for his age, standing with his feet apart in a blocking stance, apparently to stop anyone who might try to pass him. Then I saw the three terrified girls he was cornering, their backs flat up against the fence and tears of fear streaming down their cheeks. His face red with fury, he thrust his fist at them aggressively, yelling, “I’ll kill you!” over and over.
How could this be? All four children were under five-years-old, yet here was one small child holding control over three! The bully wasn’t even wielding a weapon and any one of the victims could have pushed past him easily. I had seen those girls, Cierra, Emily and Annie, in action before and I’d hardly describe them as mild mannered or delicate! So what hold did this angry child have on these normally assertive kids?
