Nonviolent Crisis Intervention: Human Interaction 101

Lingering in my mind since the beginning of the month has been a two-part training I attended with my cooperating teacher offered by the Crisis Prevention Institute (CPI). It was a training in nonviolent crisis intervention, directed at teachers and paraprofessionals who have behaviorally challenging students, as in students with a history of verbally or physically violent outbursts. I believe we were semi-required to do the training because of our student on a behavioral IEP - who, by the way, is doing extremely well and showing less anxiety and tendency toward previous behavior. However, I am glad I took the course for a variety of reasons.

I'll continue with thoughts of my own after taking the course. While they were inspired by the course content, I do not wish or seek to quote CPI philosophy verbatim, nor should my comments be considered valid citations of CPI instruction. I highly recommend the training; don't let this be all you hear of it!

On the most basic level, it reinforced for me what I had learned in the past about dealing with conflicts that might arise with a student, or with any individual, for that matter. Conflicts happen as a natural part of human interaction; they escalate when the individuals involved engage themselves in a power struggle. Perspective is lost and the conflict becomes more about the conflict than about the interaction at hand, and only escalates further. (...Hmmm... Sound familiar when considered in the context of present-day politics?)

Ultimately, the best you can do to defuse an interpersonal conflict is to deescalate the situation, whatever it is. A powerful tool for this, I'm learning, is removing oneself from the conflict at hand by making clear you are not looking for conflict. Because, after all, you're not, even when challenged by another.

I'm being very vague. Let's take the example of Dora, who I've written about in previous posts (and believe me, there are more to come). As I became more intolerant of her social behavior, the mentality that "I don't like her" solidified itself so strongly in my mind, it wasn't about her behavior anymore, but about the personal offense I took by it. Where did that get me in my interactions with her? Right in the middle of a constant power struggle. She wasn't doing what I wanted her to do and that got me riled up in negativity.

Great, Avery, way to set a student up for failure.

As I guide all of my students through the social curriculum within our classroom community, I am the mirror they look into, the model they will seek to emulate once I have earned their respect. However, I do not want them to behave in a particular way simply because I want them to do so. Teaching behavior at any age is about the longevity of what is learned, the development of life-long social skills that long outlive the teachers who first modeled them.

Selfishly, of course I want them to do what I want, because then my life is a lot easier in the classroom. But ultimately - selflessly - I want more that they want to do what I want them to do: to respect each other, to care for each other, and to communicate with each other well. To make that possible, they must first grasp the extremes of good and bad behavior and the results of both. Then I can communicate the need strive for the good extreme not in order to please anyone in particular, but to be able to engage in meaningful relationships.

And so, "Because I said so" becomes "Because that's what good friends do."

End of power struggle, removal of authority figure from conflict. The only conflict that remains is the choice: the choice of an individual and, simultaneously, the act of choice that will continue to develop an individual's sense of self.

May we strive to be mirrors that are honest, respectful and caring to those who look to us. May we remember that they will not remember us, only the image we reflected. And may we - despite it all - remain honest, respectful and caring, anyway. Because that's what good mirrors do.