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Some reflections on how to talk to children about war and peace

It was one of those bedtime moments when there’s a choice as a parent. Do I say ‘not now’ or do I engage in the topic? It was a chance to talk to my children about war. Understandably, not one I relished, but then I’d rather they hear it from me than somewhere else.

 

To give some context, my made-up bedtime story had included a fundraiser for refugees. We ended up talking about a friend from Iraq who is seeking asylum here and I explained that he’d come to the UK to escape a war in his country. So really, I had invited the discussion.

 

What’s war like?

 

 

What’s war like? My 8 year old asked me. It’s horrible, I said. I mean I want to know what it’s like, he persisted. Is it like two teams where people shoot at each other? I think he had laser quest in his head as he said this. What happens mum?

I could see that he wasn’t going to let it go. I was in a dilemma. I didn’t want to fob them off. Children know when you’re doing that. And I didn’t want to get too graphic either. My four year old was also listening attentively and waiting for my response. How could I talk to my children about war?

 

How to talk to my children about war?

 

 

I gathered myself and tried to explain some of the edited reality of war. I told them about drones and what a bomb is and how innocent people get injured or killed. I explained that our friend had lost his family. I talked about feelings of grief and sadness.

I explained how lucky we are not to have experience of war. I reassured them that there is no war in our country. I sang them to sleep. I was worried that they would have nightmares or wake up in the night afraid.

 

 

An interesting response

 

Thankfully, they both slept very well and the next morning my son came to me to excitedly show me a picture he’d drawn. It was a series of hand drawn emoji pictures with feeling descriptors next to them.

What’s that? I asked. It’s my feelings team. Is that something you’ve been doing at school? No I just made it up, I’m going to make a comic.

 

In the weeks since then we’ve had the summer holidays and the chance to talk about our beliefs about violence and peace. I studied these things when I did my Masters. As a result, I believe that most violence comes about when basic human needs are not met, needs for food or shelter, or for the chance to contribute through meaningful work or respect.

 

The link to climate change

 

 

As I write this, the international day of peace is imminent and the focus is the climate crisis. We also prepare to take our children out of school for a day for a global climate strike. We’ve tried our best to explain the implications of climate change. We’ve talked through the value of protesting nonviolently. My son is nonplussed, he hates any conflict and my daughter is delighted as she loves to try anything new and is not averse to confrontation!

However, if we are talking about basic human needs this issue feels too important to ignore. This is our future, this is their future. As I’ve learned time and again in my work with people in conflict, if we ignore an issue it doesn’t go away.

 

 

I, for one, want to learn how to talk to my children about war. And climate change. And all the other topics that are sometimes easier for me to avoid.

 

How have you talked to your children about war, peace or climate change? I’d love to hear your experiences.

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A lesson in preparing for conflict – from a 9 year old 

When I explain to people what I do, they’re often surprised and ask me, “so what kind of organisations call you in to do conflict resolution training for them?”.

It’s a great question.

 

What’s behind it is usually some level of disbelief along the lines of, “who has enough conflict that they’d need training in how to handle it?”. Or even, “who would need an external mediator?”

 

Sometimes, it will be followed up with, “That’s so interesting. I’m really lucky though, we don’t have much conflict at our place.”

 

I’m not denying that this is probably accurate for them. Right now.

 

 

Conflict is inevitable

 

However, conflicts will happen. It is more a matter of ‘when’ than ‘if’. The beautiful diversity of us as people is that we have different perspectives, life experiences, stories, values and viewpoints. It’s quite possible to go weeks, months or sometimes even years without much tension with others.

 

Then there is a change of some sort and suddenly all hell breaks loose!

 

A restructure and new appointments are made. A new boss and suddenly you’re being micro-managed. A new member of staff on the team who has a different way of working to others and quickly gets labelled as ‘difficult’. A troubled pupil starts at the school from a very ‘challenging’ background.

 

Often we feel that we should be better a handling these situations.

 

I think we can cut ourselves some slack here though. Let’s face it, how many of us had lessons at school in this? And even as adults, it’s only a lucky few who’ve had any high quality training in how to handle difficult situations.

 

 

Training in handling conflict well

 

 

It’s exactly that kind of conflict resolution training that can pay for itself many times over. Research has shown that just being able to identify and name our feelings makes us feel better.  This is true even when the trigger for the stress is still there.

 

Imagine then what is possible if we offer staff outstanding created-for-you conflict resolution training? Training that will really help when tensions arise and persist.

 

Creating an open culture around handling conflict can pay off many times over. It’s an investment well worth making. If you’re considering getting some specialist training, but not sure if it’s worth it, consider this: what will happen if you don’t do it?

 

 

Changing a culture

 

 

Take a school I’ve worked with over the past couple of years, for example. The headteacher needed support because conflict on the playground was escalating and some children were on the edge of being excluded. We worked with her to bring about a culture change around handling tensions.  We trained both staff and pupils in working effectively with conflict.

 

A group of twenty children were selected to be peer mediators. One of these boys I’ll call Luke*. Luke came into the training and I was ‘warned’ about him. “He’s on his last chance”, the Head told me.

 

I expected to work hard at managing his behaviour but he sat there as quiet as a mouse that first day, taking it all in and fully engaged.

 

By the end of the training, he had come out of his shell and was one of our star mediators. The teachers were amazed. “I can’t believe Luke”, they said in whispered tones at lunchtime. “He’s doing so well.”

 

At the evaluation six months later, the Headteacher told me, “Luke has completely turned his behaviour around. He has taken his role really seriously and has become a role model for others. All the children look up to the peer mediators and want to be like them.”

 

I spoke to her again yesterday, as we approach the end of the school term and she said, “We’ve got involved in a lot of initiatives but we’re letting go of some of them as it’s a bit much. This one, though, we want to keep doing as it’s making such a difference. The year 4 and 5 teachers have commented on what a difference it’s made in their end of year reports.”

 

What might have happened if they’d decided it was just too much time, effort and money to invest in the peer mediation programme?

 

Have you invested in any kind of conflict resolution training? If you have, I’d love to hear your thoughts below on what kind of impact it made.

 

*Not his real name.

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A lesson in humility and empathy

This week I had a lesson in humility from my eight year old and four year old.

It was the end of the day and I’d been in on-line meetings all day and had also battled with some frustrating run-ins with technology. We’d just eaten dinner together as a family and that had gone remarkably well.

I knew I needed to get out and get some exercise.

As it had finally stopped raining I suggested to my eight year old son that we go out for a walk-run. We walk for a minute, run for a minute for ten to fifteen minutes. He likes it because he enjoys timing us and is much fitter than me. I always struggle to keep up with him for the running part which he finds funny.

At the last minute my four year old decided she wanted to come along too, instead of hanging out with her dad, and she grabbed her scooter. We headed out to the park and all was well. At first.

However, as we went through the park my daughter saw the skateboard ramp at the edge of the playground in the distance and wanted to go there to scoot. I said no. She protested. I continued to say no, that this was a short trip to the park for a walk-run, not a playground trip.

In truth, it was heading towards her bedtime and I was calculating how much I wanted to get them both to bed and have some time to myself.

I held my ground and we were in a full-on standoff. We made it home but we were both furious. As soon as we got in the door I shouted at her that I was really angry and I didn’t want to take her again next time if she’s going to yell and scream when we don’t do what she wants (oh, the irony!). She stormed off to her bedroom in tears of rage. I went and locked myself in the bathroom to calm down.

My son ran upstairs and I didn’t try to stop him.

Having taken some deep breaths, I felt calmer and when I came out of the bathroom, both of them were stood there waiting. She looked both bashful and cross and immediately blurted out, “Sorry mummy”. I thanked her for saying sorry.

I could tell she was still angry though as she wouldn’t look at me.

So, I gathered myself and asked, “Were you disappointed and frustrated when I said you couldn’t go to the playground?”. She nodded. “Did you really want to go?”. She nodded again and fresh tears came.

I said that I understood she really wanted to go and at the same time this was a short trip to the park just to do a walk- run. I explained that I felt frustrated when she didn’t accept that.

Next, I asked her, “how did you feel when I said I didn’t want to take you again?”. “Sad”, she said. “I didn’t mean it.”, I replied. “I was feeling cross myself and I said something I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. I would like us all to go to the park together again and maybe one time we can all go to the playground and another time we can just do a walk-run. What do you think?”

She looked me in the eyes and a big grin spread across her face.

“Shall we go and have pudding now?”, I asked. “Yeeeesss!” she yelled and raced back downstairs.

I said to my son, “You superstar! What did you do to calm her down?”. He looked very pleased with himself and told me, “I listened to her and got her to do rocket breath* and she did it funnily and we both laughed so she did it four times and she calmed down. Then I asked her if she wanted to say sorry to you and she said yes.”  I gave him a big hug, thanked him and we headed downstairs.

I was in awe of this boy who hates it when people get angry and shout.

He had the wisdom and kindness to see what his sister needed and to help her out. And he’d come to my help when I’d run out of emotional resources. I felt hugely grateful.

This morning I was still feeling guilty so when my daughter came in, I apologised to her again for the unkind thing I said and she replied, “It’s OK mummy I know you didn’t mean it, you’re still a child of God.”

 

*Rocket breath is a breathing technique we learned on a parenting course that helps young children to calm down.

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