Relational Clutter

Parents often complain of aggressive, hostile behavior between siblings that falls below the bar of actual conflict. This is not about when they are having a dispute or fighting about anything specific. It's sometimes verbal and often physical – an insult out of the blue or a slug on the shoulder in passing. This is not something you can mediate because seemingly there is no issue to talk about.

Yet this behavior creates a low hum of unpleasantness in your home. It brings everybody down. It often draws yelps of indignation or mournful tears. Parents find themselves waiting, cringing, for the next episode in this stream of bashing. It's not nothing.

We sometimes ask, somewhat helplessly, “Why did you do that?” and the kids will often answer, to our intense frustration, “I don't know.” 

I believe them. I believe kids when they say they don't know why they called their sister a “loser” or bopped their brother on the head in the hallway. But I'm beginning to think I know why. It has to do with clutter.

Clutter?

Since Covid struck, a lot of us have been wrestling with our belongings in an effort to streamline our homes, reduce inventory, and have a calmer relationship with our surroundings. Like many of you, I've been cooped up more than I'm used to and eyeing my possessions with a critical squint: Have I stopped needing this? Does it bring me down? Is it time to let go of it?

I'm wondering if it's possible there's such a thing as relational clutter.

We are decluttering our children's material possessions all the time. We have to, because the kids are growing (outgrown clothes need to be moved along) and they are developing (outgrown books and toys have to go, too.) Let's take a look under your child's bed:

• some candy wrappers

• several random Legos

• a sock puppet

• a single shoe

• three pegs from a game that's already in the give-away bin in the hall closet

Some of this is easy. The wrappers go in the trash. Your child puts the Legos away in their bin. The shoe (long ago outgrown) gets put together with its mate, which has been waiting patiently in the shoe rack, and your child puts them in the give-away bin while adding the three stray pegs to the game box. 

But then there's the sock puppet. You suggest putting it in the give-away bin, but your child isn't ready to part with it. In fact, he talks about the puppet with great tenderness. His grandma made it for him when he was sick one day, and he thinks it should go in his treasure box. OK, fine. 

Even something as simple as cleaning under a bed is a process: this is trash, that goes here, this goes there. And the sock puppet...well, that was a thoughtful discussion, leading to a mindful action. If you had followed your own instincts about the puppet, it would have resulted in sadness, hurt feelings and resentment. That's the benefit of taking the time to process. 

So what happens when we don't process conflict? Let's look at several examples:

• I separate the kids, telling them they need to “cool off.” Anger subsides but rancor sets in.

• I tell them how they should solve the problem. (This is called “arbitration.”) I have chosen a mechanical solution without any examination of the kids' underlying feelings. The feelings remain.

• I shut down the conflict by means of a threat or bribe. The kids stuff their feelings, thus postponing the conflict to another hour, day, or week.

In all of these scenarios, I've solved my problem (being annoyed by the noise, commotion and strong feelings) without addressing the kids' problem. Even if their conflict dissipates, what's left is ugly debris: hostility, resentment, bitterness. This is what I mean by “relational clutter.” I shared this idea with a young mom who responded, “We get attached to the relational clutter in the same way we get attached to physical clutter. We get used to the piles and step over things and don't even really see them anymore. Same goes for relational clutter. We fall into routines and patterns of conflict to the point that we just don't know how else to engage with each other or how to 'snap out of it.'”

Of course you want peace and quiet. And mediation takes time. But it's the only way to get peace along with your quiet.

Does Your Apology Style Need a Tuneup?

Some time ago, I was mediating a conflict between two parties who were having a workplace dispute. One of them tried to apologize not once but several times. Each time I heard her begin (“I'm sorry...”) my heart sang, because of course apologies are Mediation Gold. They can really turn the tide of a conflict. She was so close! In fact, I wrote down what she said each time:

“I'm sorry you had that experience.”

“I'm sorry that happened to you.”

“I'm sorry if you felt betrayed.”

Her conflict partner seemed unmoved by these apologies. There was no acknowledgment, no acceptance, no “I forgive you.” Well, of course not! None of these apologies hit the mark. The first two expressed no sense of personal responsibility for the hurt. They are the kind of thing you might say to a friend who ran into some bad luck, an event not caused by you – “I'm sorry your purse got stolen.”

And the third “apology” – not only does it dodge responsibility but it also contains that tiny, deadly word “if.” That word casts some doubt on the emotion's legitimacy. When apologizing to someone, at least take their word for how you made them feel, even if you think you wouldn't have reacted the same way. A stronger version of this would be, “I'm sorry you felt betrayed by me.” Much stronger still: “I'm sorry I betrayed you.”

In my book, The Opposite of COMBAT, I present a whole section about apologies and forgiveness. Both are good habits of mind. Apologies are incredibly useful in repairing ruptures, whether in the board room or the family home. 

The most powerful and effective way to teach your children how to apologize is by example. That's how they learn. Parents spend a lot of time forcing kids to apologize, often long before empathy has really kicked in. (This is an empty ritual, in my opinion – more about that in my book.) Once children have some feelings of genuine empathy, usually at around age five or six, they will feel uncomfortable after wronging someone, and they will be moved by the other person's indignation or tears. Rummaging around in their tool box, they will remember what you do when you are feeling remorseful. They will apologize.

A spontaneous, heartfelt, unqualified apology is a thing of beauty. In fact, it's practically a magic wand! Unfortunately, it's pretty rare. You can teach your kids the magic by being a good role model. 

Does your apology style need a tuneup?

A Perfect Book for Preschoolers about the Quarantine

I seldom recommend other books on this blog because my book has an extended, annotated bibliography about sibling relations. However, my friend and colleague Heather Malley, Founding director of Caterpillar Cottage Preschool, has written a beautiful and timely book for young children about the quarantine. And I want to share it with you!

Not Forever But for Now is a pitch-perfect book for preschoolers about the pandemic. Honest but hopeful, it touches on new practices that are bewildering and scary along with consoling activities that are evergreen, like cuddling and playing tag and looking for bugs. This book gives kids permission to feel all the myriad emotions that the quarantine arouses. I'm confident that the refrain "not forever but for now" will bring solace to parents and children alike.

https://www.amazon.com/Not-Forever-But-Now-children-ebook/dp/B0878ZXH9S/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=Not+forever+but+for+now&qid=1587330255&s=books&sr=1-2

No Time to Mediate?

A couple of months ago, I ran into a young mother of two whom I adore. She hugged me (remember hugs?) and said, “I promise I'll read your book when the boys leave for college!” We shared a giggle of course, but there's some truth to what she said. The people for whom I wrote The Opposite of COMBAT are incredibly pressed for time.

Yes, one response I get to my book is, “who has time to read one?” That's why I initially posted the “quick version” on this blog. I'm confident that parents who read this digest, and who try some of the techniques, will be so pleased with the results that they will want to learn even more in order to hone their skills.

No time to mediate? Well, all bets are off now - you don't have time not to mediate! That's my first response. All of the normal, everyday buffers – between parent and parent, between parent and child, and between child and child – have been taken away from us. School, work, playdates, after-school activities, coaches and teachers kept us floating somewhat separately from each other, at least for substantial portions of each day. Suddenly everything is completely different. Quarantine is sure to result in elevated conflict – but the good news is that handling conflict intelligently builds social skills and buttresses relationships. 

My second response is this: sometimes people mistake what I'm saying, and their takeaway is that I think they should mediate every squabble. Not so – I can't imagine doing this more than once a day and I think three times a week is a very reasonable goal to set. That's why I have a whole chapter in my book about deciding whether to mediate. Here's a tip from Chapter 7: if a conflict seems repetitive, and has a theme-and-variation quality to it, your time might be very well spent on a deeper dive.

Rainy Day Parenting - On Steroids!

My heart goes out to parents experiencing quarantine with their young children. This must feel like “rainy day parenting” on steroids! I really want to help in any way I can.

Fortunately, as you all know, there are great resources online—people reading favorite books to kids, craft ideas, tips about fantasy “building” projects using blankets and other household items. And at least one daily walk outside is a really good idea, if you're in an area where it’s allowed. Exercise boosts the immune system and provides everyone relief from that cooped-up feeling. Still, my mind wanders to Little House in the Big Woods scenarios: long, snowed-in periods alone with family. This is completely new to all of us! People can get grouchy and tempers can flare.

So how do I help? One way is by reminding you to use the mediation tools outlined in brief on Squabblefest.com. I unpack all of this in much richer detail in my book, The Opposite of COMBAT. 

What I always experienced, when I was housebound with my kids for any length of time, was that arbitrating (acting as a judge or referee) was both exhausting and endless. Often, top-town decisions by an adult just kick the problem down the road – so we shouldn't really be surprised if that problem bubbles up again tomorrow or the next day. Squabbling was snuffed, but not solved. Getting the kids actively involved in problem-solving not only gets more stuff resolved but it also teaches kids great skills along the way: listening, negotiating, compromise. No one taught me how to do this when I was parenting. Only after I became a mediator could I crack the code and put together what works consistently. It's been such a pleasure to share this with parents who have found it to be a life-saver. I call it the T.A.B.M.O.C. (opposite of COMBAT) protocol for mediation.

I encourage you to learn and deploy these techniques if you haven't already, and to hone them now if you’re already familiar with the process. We want the world to be a peaceful place to coexist, and that starts in the home. Even in times that feel eerily unfamiliar!

Please feel free to ask questions and air your frustrations by emailing me. I can post solutions. If you subscribe to my blog, you’ll receive the updates. You know, we’re all learning together!

Empathy

I was talking with a fellow grandma the other day about helping our grandkids with empathy. Hers are still pretty young, and she was feeling a little frustrated that her efforts didn't seem to be getting results. My friend knows that I talk about empathy a lot. Empathy is deeply involved with mediation, in a somewhat circular way: mediation breeds empathy and empathy facilitates mediation. I'll share some of my thoughts about our conversation here.

Remember waiting for your baby to smile? You heard (or read) that baby would smile at about six weeks, but that didn't stop you from smiling in the meantime. From day one, you were gazing at baby, making all those silly, exaggerated faces that we make – mouth open, eyebrows up, eyes wide. And yes, grinning like a monkey. Finally, finally, your baby smiled back. Such a rich reward!

Empathy works exactly the same way except that the time frame is excruciatingly long, long enough to make you wonder (like my friend) if all her efforts are for nought. The capacity for empathy usually kicks in between ages three and five. But you can begin sowing the seeds much earlier, by talking about feelings and triggers.

• To an infant: “Oooh, the kitty got scared when I dropped the book. He was so scared he ran away.”

• To a toddler: “You're so happy she gave you the book. That was so friendly of her.”

• To a preschooler: “He's crying because you hurt his body. That made him angry and sad.”

Talk about feelings a lot, and talk about a lot of feelings. Use the first person (I-messages), the second person (Active Listening) and the third person (observations) as well. Stretch yourself to go beyond “happy” and “sad” and “angry.” Know that you are setting the stage. Like a fourteen-year old who's itching to drive a car but isn't developmentally ready to deploy the skill, he is nonetheless taking it all in from his perch in the passenger seat.

A couple of years ago in California, we experienced the wonder of a super-bloom of desert wildflowers. Seeds for those flowers had been lying dormant in the sand for many years. Then, when all the conditions had been met for sun and water – wow, what a display. Right now you may feel like you are sowing seeds of empathy out on the desert. But when the child is developmentally ready to feel empathy, imagine the array of skills she will already possess!

When You can't Get an Agreement

It's a fact of mediation that not every mediated conflict ends perfectly, tied up in a Lovely Pink Bow. I don't want you to feel bad if you kids weren't able to reach a solution. And I want to remind you, by way of encouragment, what did happen despite the lack of an “LPB.” They agreed to ground rules. This is huge - it signifies a degree of trust in you and in the process. They shared their wants, needs and feelings with each other. And they listened. All of those things buttress a relationship even when an actual agreement is out of reach. Truly, it wasn't a waste of your time or theirs.

Now watch and wait…and trust percolation. Sometimes just the unpacking and venting does the trick. You may notice a subtle shift in their dyamic. There might be some self-reflecting going on that was sparked by things that were said and heard in the mediation. People often change withut an explicit promise to do so. Time will tell.

And what about you? Did you reflect on the process? You might come up with questions that went unasked in the mediation, or better ways to ask those questions that you did ask. Your kids wobbled when they were learning to walk; give yourself permission to wobble a little as you learn this technique.

And whatever you do, keep mediating!

Author in Residence!

Greetings from Barnesville School in Maryland! I'm midway through my five days here as Author in Residence, helping the school celebrate Peace Week. Every year, in honor of MLK, they do a deep dive into the topic of peace, devoting an entire week to studying about famous upstanders and learning about conflict and conflict resolution. This year's theme is “Speak Up: The Power of Words.” On Day One I ran the age gamut, beginning with three and four-year-olds and ending with the middle schoolers. The kids here are delightful – articulate, curious, polite and super fun. I chatted with the little ones about emotion words and then we learned three of Dr. King's favorite songs, including of course “We Shall Overcome.” With the middleschoolers, I talked about the neurobiology of conflict and we explored some ideas around conflict being an opportunity as well as a nuisance! Yesterday's highlight was a session with second, third and fourth grade kids. For our big finale, we played “Mediator, Mediator!” Kids circle up, holding hands. A mediator is chosen – a kid “who is patient and likes to untangle things.” The mediator goes out of the room. Still holding hands, the kids in the circle try as hard as they can to get as mixed up and tangled as possible. The knot of kids then hold still and yell “Mediator, Mediator.” The mediator comes back in the room and gently, patiently, unties all the knots.

The neighborhood around this school is amazing – farmland as far as you can see in every direction. When we arrived at school on the first day, there was a herd of deer grazing right across the road. Yesterday after lunch I walked a mile and back to a hen farm where I bought a dozen eggs at an “honor system” hutch in front of the farmhouse.

"Why Not Just Have Them Work it Out Themselves?"

When talking with parents about my book, one of the questions that comes up a lot is, “Why not just send them off to work it out themselves?” Great question! Next to arbitrating (handing down a decision like a judge or umpire), telling kids to “work it out themselves” is the second most popular parental strategy. There are a couple of reasons why I think mediation is a better way.

The first reason is quite simple: they don't have the tools to do this independently. Little kids don't have the vocabulary for discussing their emotions, needs and wants. Most don't have the patience to stick to a problem-solving process. And perhaps most importantly, they don't yet believe it can work! Only after a number of successful mediations do they begin to understand the value of negotiation and compromise. Over time, they see that a win-win outcome buttresses and enriches a relationship whereas a win-lose outcome can damage it. Once kids have all these tools in their belt, they can indeed “work it out themselves.” It's not hard to wean them from mediation after these critical tools are put in place.

The second reason is what I call “liabilities of temperament.” We're born with different types of personalities, and temperament profoundly influences how we deal with disputes. The prospect of conflict presents a fight or flight response in just about everyone. It isn't hard to figure out who is inclined to fight and who tends to flee. Sending kids off to “work it out themselves” often serves only to reinforce personality traits – for example “easygoing” or “persistent” or “bossy.” When temperament always wins the day, fairness isn't well served. The purpose of mediation isn't to change lions into lambs or vice versa. However, if a naturally bold and aggressive child doesn't learn something about negotiation and compromise, he could be seen as overbearing right into adulthood. Likewise, if a reticent, mild- mannered child doesn't learn to stick up for his needs and wants, he might be a pushover others take advantage of. Mediation helps nudge these personalities a little toward center, providing solid, real-life coping skills in the process. 

When you mediate, you are actually letting them work it out themselves, because you don't judge, decide or advise. A mediation is a guided negotiation, with the mediator asking great questions and providing structure. All of this points kids towards the day when they can negotiate independently – with a sibling or with anyone under the sun.

Further Techniques: Not-so-great Questions

Technique: Not-So-Great Questions

This post is less about what to do and more about what not to do. That's because when you're learning to mediate effectively, there may be a few habits to break!

“Gotcha” Questions - One problem is that the questions we tend to ask children when something has gone wrong are “gotcha” questions that sound like they come straight out of the justice system. These questions assume a “vic” and a “perp” (or a plaintiff and defendant) instead of just two people with a problem to solve. “Gotcha” questions, like “what did you do to him?” are legalistic and accusatory. They make the plaintiff feel aggrieved and self-righteous. They make the defendant feel – well, defensive and self-righteous. This line of questioning is polarizing, so it arouses feelings that are barriers to mediation. An open-ended, neutral question like “What happened?” avoids the perp/vic framework – so it helps to neutralize conflict. A dispute is, simply, what happens when two people disagree and/or behave disrespectfully towards one another.

Convergent Questions - Convergent questions are straight out of the justice system. A lawyer is trained never to ask a witness a question that the lawyer herself doesn't know the answer to. That's because the lawyer must direct all her questions towards an intended conclusion. Lawyers are supposed to ask convergent questions, because it's their job to home in on the predetermined target, which of course is the “truth” that they are promoting. Mediators, on the other hand, have no target, so we ask divergent questions – wide enough to accommodate that proverbial truck! 

Tip: Here are some examples of convergent questions, the kind that aren't helpful in mediation:

• Questions with a “yes” or “no” answer (these tend to stop the conversation dead)
• Multiple choice questions (because an answer that isn't prompted will usually be more rich, detailed and accurate)

How would you “widen” these questions so that they diverge instead of converging?

• Did you want to play with the doll?
• Were you sad or were you insulted?