If you’re reading this, I’m assuming that, like me, you got into teaching because you want social justice. You want to create a world where everyone, regardless of where they were born, who their parents are, how smart or rich or beautiful they are, experiences peace and well-being.
I’m guessing you’re nodding your head. Of course! Isn’t that what we all want?
The difficulty, of course, is how to teach effectively while remaining steadfast in the quest for social justice. I can hold on to the vision when everything’s going well, but how do I hold on to it when a student is yelling out in the middle of class or a colleague refuses to collaborate on an idea I have? How do I hold on to it when a parent accuses me of harming their child or an administrator asks me to stop a conversation I want my students to have? How do I hold on to it when I just don’t have enough time to do everything I want to do?
Several years into my teaching career, I attended a workshop on nonviolent communication (NVC). A light bulb went off. Those challenges are not the things getting in the way. Those challenges are the way.
At the workshop, the trainer asked if anyone had an example of something someone had said to them that they had not wanted to hear. Yes, I had plenty of examples from my classroom. During silent reading time the day before, a student had blurted out, “I hate reading!”
Thinking about my student’s comment, I felt annoyed, hopeless and frustrated. With the group’s help, the trainer coached me to connect those feelings to the deeper values that I hold: I want all my students to succeed. I want a classroom culture of respect. I want to know that I’m making a difference, that my students are learning. I want students to enjoy what they’re doing.
That was a relief. Then, she asked me to do the same for my student, based on my best guesses. I thought I had a student-centered perspective, but this practice connected me to my student’s experience in a much more profound way. I guessed that my student wanted the same things I did: to enjoy what she was doing, to be respected and to succeed. On top of that, I guessed that she wanted to be seen and heard by the class.
By the end of the exercise, my frustration was transformed into understanding. I felt a flood of energy and a new set of ideas about how I could have responded in the situation. I wouldn’t have felt stretched beyond my capacity to be patient; I wouldn’t have ushered her into a quiet conversation that didn’t seem to help her and certainly didn’t satisfy me.
What was incredible was that my student wasn’t even there. I didn’t need her to do or say anything else to have this transformation. It was all in how I viewed the reaction I had to her words. I didn’t need to be immune to the comments of my students. I just needed a new way of relating to the strong reactions I did have.
Because it has the word communication in it, many people associate nonviolent communication with a style of talking. For me, the practice is internal. Transforming my interactions with myself translates into the vision of peace I want to teach in my classroom. How I relate to the mundane difficulties of day-to-day life itself is the paradigm for peace and well-being.
Nonviolent communication is not the only practice that can help us transform what is into what we want. I’ve just found it particularly useful in the details. For me, it’s the “how” of compassion. I want to be compassionate. I want to be patient and loving—how do I do it? NVC has provided me with concrete practices as well as a philosophical framework.
To learn more, check out the Center for Nonviolent Communication and two books on education and NVC: Life-Enriching Education by Marshall B. Rosenberg and The Compassionate Classroom by Sura Hart and Victoria Kindle Hodson (written for elementary educators but helpful for all ages).
Blaine is a public school teacher and dialogue facilitator and is currently studying nonviolent communication and social change.
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