I've imagined fights lots of times. As a writer I envision how these scenarios would go down as exhilirating action sequences, and as a teacher I consider how to mediate them. Yet, for all my imagination, I could never have anticipated it happening as it did.
I work in a connected classroom. My main co-teacher and I share adjacent rooms connected by a set of glass double doors. While working at my computer nearby, I heard two kids come crashing into those glass doors. The doors swing freely and often bump into the whiteboard I keep in front of it. I use this board to give space between classrooms and provide a barrier to keep kids from being distracted by activities in my colleague's room. It's not uncommon for kids to peer into my room or even push open the doors to sneak around my whiteboard. However, when kids push hard it makes a loud crash.
The crash drew my attention, and the average "YA!" is often all it takes to show students my displeasure and send them on their way. Yet, as I saw two sixth grade boys grappling each other I knew this was different. I jumped from my desk and pushed into my co-teacher's room. She was absent between classes as she often attends the teacher's meeting in the passing period between 10:20-10:40. I quickly stepped up to the boys and began pushing them apart.
It's not easy separating two boys who have each other by the shoulders, pushing and punching at each other's faces. But I shoved anyway and got between them. I told the one nearest the door to leave and kept the other behind. This boy promptly broke into tears and the other three kids in the class were deathly quiet. I pulled the boy into my class and sat him down to cool off. I had to pull out the student photos to make sure I got his name and his combattant's name. Which I used to do the only thing I could do, tell my co-teacher in a email what had happened.
After 10 minutes or so, my co-teacher had returned to her class and replied with a "Thank you" email. The boy I held had stopped crying and cooled off so I sent him back to class.
That was 15 minutes ago.
I honestly still feel a bit shaken by the experience and I realize so many things about fighting that I never knew before.
1. Fighting is messy, awkward, and unsettling. The boys were pushing each other and struggling to keep standing. They only managed to throw punches as I stepped between them, reaching over me. Yet, most unsettling is how no other kids made move to stop it. They just watched and stood silent.
2. Mediating fights is not empowering in any way. I was practically invisible to them until I had physically separated them. They didn't seem to hear my voice, or acknowledge I was there at all.
3. The presence of violence stirs up a myriad of emotions, many of which I had not anticipated. I always imagined an actual fight would cause me to get angry and loud, but I didn't. I could feel the excitement of the situation in my chest and I acted accordingly, but I wasn't angry or loud. I was calm, even tempered and not aggressive.
Rethinking it now I see how I could have been more forceful in pulling those boys apart, perhaps preventing some punches from landing, but I didn't. I acted solely on instinct and it was calm and direct. I suppose that's a good thing, but I sit here with a looming sense of insecurity and deep concern. Not for my well being, these kids couldn't physically hurt me. Yet, I'm bothered that they do fight in my co-teacher's empty classroom with me next door. I can't help but wonder, has this happened before? Even more unsettling is the realization that I have no way of reconciling this event because I can't communicate how it errupted. I know kids say awful things to each other and often turn to slaps and shoves, Korean kids are extremely physical in their affections and slights. Yet, there is always a present playfulness, one that was obviously devoid in this event.
In the end I suppose I hate that I have no way of protecting my students from themselves, let alone each other. I have no way of mentoring them into better ways of handling anger or conflict. I have only one other teacher I can consult on such conflict because I don't speak much Korean. All thse these realities are crushingly apparent and I feel sad, shaken, disempowered. More and more, I realize elementary school is about cultivating sociable behaviors and conflict resolution. The kind of skills that make us functional members of the adult populace. The more I realize the importance of character development in young kids the less I feel I have to offer them. It's not a good feeling.
Hopefully, there will not be any more fights in school. Hopefully, these boys will settle their differences and get along in a school that's too small for kids to avoid each other. Hopefully, they'll all get along and just enjoy being kids.
But I've learned optimism is not often affirmed in such matters....
