The Peace Rose: A Priceless Gift… from the Dollar Store!

The Peace Rose: A Priceless Gift… from the Dollar Store!

I glanced across to the Peace Table in the far corner of the classroom. Belssy and Nia were sitting across from each other, ‘doing’ the Peace Rose. Unbeknownst to me, Belssy had quietly initiated this activity, which meant she had asked Nia to “do the Peace Rose,” feeling that something occurred between them that needed to be resolved.

I continued with the math lesson I was giving, while keeping an eye on the girls. I observed Belssy pick up the red silk Peace Rose and the ‘dialogue card’ from the low table. Though they were speaking quietly, I knew what they were saying—it was a familiar and well practiced scene in my public school Montessori classroom.

The child is both a hope and a promise for mankind.

– Dr. Maria Montessori, Education and Peace –

Holding the rose and reading from the card, Belssy would be saying, “Nia, I didn’t like it when you grabbed the scissor without asking ‘cuz I wasn’t done with it!” Passing the rose and the accompanying card to Nia, I could preempt the response: “I hear that you didn’t like it when I took the scissor because I didn’t ask and you weren’t done with it.”

Then the rose and card were passed back again.

Belssy would now be saying, “I would like you to say sorry and ask next time when you want something I’m using.” Passing the rose and card back a final time, Nia would then answer, “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do that again.” Finally, holding the rose together, they would declare “Friends!” and each calmly return to their work.

Of all the events in the classroom, children solving interpersonal issues independently feels most important. This memory of mine, of Belssy and Nia, is not a unique moment or a ‘fluke,’ but is the outcome and reward of very intentional and deliberate teaching and modeling of social skills and personal problem-solving procedures, done with the aid of a very important tool in the classroom—the Peace Rose.

In the early days of school each Fall, teachers mindfully set the stage for the rest of the year.

This is inclusive of Grace and Courtesy lessons, co-creating classroom agreements, alongside the practice of routines and procedures. And with all of this, a strong focus on how to peacefully resolve interpersonal issues is crucial.

Interpersonal challenges invariably come up quite regularly in the peer relationships of the classroom. The Peace Rose ritual is a powerful way we can enable children to address these conflicts independently, and in a manner where both parties feel the issue was addressed, and, at the same time, have their dignity preserved. Given the opportunity to learn, practice, and the provision of the right tools, the majority of children will accept the responsibility of skillfully settling their interpersonal problems on their own.

Preventing conflicts is the work of politics; establishing peace is the work of education.

– Dr. Maria Montessori, Education and Peace –

The Peace Rose was first introduced to me during my Montessori training. When I tried it in the early days of my E1 teaching, my assistance was needed too often. The children often fell into arguing about what had occurred and I saw the need for the modelling of skillful ways to express and respond to hurt feelings. I introduced a procedure, in the form of a simple dialogue on a card that they could use each time they used the Peace Rose, without needing a teacher to mediate.

Practicing short scenes through roleplaying is an important way to provide students with the practice that is necessary for it to become a standard response to conflicts. So, I created roleplaying cards, each with a one sentence scenario of typical classroom conflicts. Two children at a time would act out the scene in the center of the class meeting circle, using the Peace Rose to signify whose turn it was to talk, and the dialogue card to help structure the conversation. Nearly everyone was eager for a turn.

“If we are among the men of good will who yearn for peace, we must lay the foundation for peace ourselves, by working for the social world of the child.”

Maria Montessori, International Montessori Congress, 1937

As we know, children need structure, predictability, and clear expectations. They need to be explicitly shown positive social skills, which often includes modeling the words they haven’t yet learned, so that they can express themselves in ways that are both respectful and honest. They also need opportunities to practice these new skills.

Along with the Peace Rose and their accompanying dialogue cards, highlighting the simple phrase, “If I did that, I’m sorry” proved to be a magical statement that could be said by a child who was not, for whatever reason, able to acknowledge what their classmate was asking them to address. Rather than telling a child to (disingenuously) say “I’m sorry,” the use of these simple words nipped many a stalemate or argument in the bud.

Phrases such as: “I didn’t like it when…” “My feelings were hurt when…” “I would like you to…” “I hear that you feel…” “Next time I will…” are ways children learn to express their feelings without attacking the other person. Another useful phrase in response to hurtful behavior is, “We don’t say that in our classroom” or “In our classroom we… (use kind words),” which adults model and children are encouraged to say to someone who is not following a class agreement.

For our returning students, these lessons provide opportunities to show leadership, as well as reminders of how we do things in our classroom. Our new students benefit from their older, more experienced classmates’ guidance and support, as they ‘pass down’ the culture of the classroom. This includes the caveat that when you are asked to do the Peace Rose, you can say you need some time before you do it, but it needs to be done before the class eats lunch or goes home.

If we are among the men of good will who yearn for peace, we must lay the foundation for peace ourselves, by working for the social world of the child.

When the Peace Rose is given a place on our classroom Peace Table, it transforms from being a decorative item from The Dollar Store to an object that embodies a message of peace, understanding and skillful problem solving. It becomes a tool for the children to actualize the ethos of the classroom— a commitment to working together to create a caring, peaceful community of learners, where children can accept the responsibility that comes with living and working side by side in an environment rich with dignity and respect for oneself and for others.

Sensitivity to the feelings of others, moving from an egocentric viewpoint to understanding and caring about the feelings of others, is a major development in the child’s social and moral development. This needs the support of a classroom environment that teaches, models, and believes in the peaceful resolution of conflict. The Peace Rose approach is a simple, powerful, and effective way to empower our students and create a more peaceful classroom!

Julie Shornstein Cash is an E1 Montessori guide recently retired from teaching at a public Montessori program in Kingston, New York. Throughout her teaching career she has had a special interest in creating a strong sense of community and promoting student-centered, humanistic and democratic values in the classroom. Julie integrated music, art, and drama, along with daily singing with her guitar, into the daily life of her classroom. Using the Writer’s Workshop Approach she developed a robust writing program where the children’s authentic life experiences inspired their work and created a strong and supportive community of writers. Julie received numerous grants that provided funding for authentic learning experiences through field trips and having specialists in the arts contribute to a project-based, integrated curriculum. She graduated from the Bank Street College of Education and completed three levels of the Responsive Classroom training.

The Work of Education

The Work of Education

I had an experience in my classroom that is a potent reminder of what is possible to bring out in children when they are taught to show considerate behavior, and given the guidance, safety, and structure needed to voice their feelings and engage in respectful, honest, and constructive dialogue. This particular discussion was focused on taking responsibility for hurtful behavior and making amends.

I teach a multiage class of 26 students, in a Title 1, public Montessori school. My first, second, and third graders spend three years in my classroom, and most have also been in our Children’s House program, which is comprised of classes of four- and five-year- olds. Since entering our school, the children have been in an educational environment, where respect, peaceful problem solving, and attunement to the individual child are deeply valued and practiced by our entire faculty. It is a huge advantage to teach in an atmosphere of a shared philosophy, where there is a school-wide culture of respectful communication and attention to the social and emotional development of the child.

It was Friday afternoon, the end of a stressful week, in which I’d found myself wondering how much longer I can continue teaching in the current climate of inappropriate testing, overload of curricular mandates, and large class sizes, where the system seems to be losing sight of what is most important in our work with children. I was leading a lesson with my multi-aged class of first, second, and third graders. Seated before me on the carpet was a first-grade boy, who started to make noises while I was speaking. I directed him to sit at a table and think about what he needed to be able to do in order to rejoin the group.

Making disturbing sounds has been a recurring problem with this child. I felt irritated, and I had the urge to reprimand him; instead, when I invited him back to the group, a question on our school’s reflection form sprang to mind. It asks, “What will you do to make amends?” Instead of chastising him, I found myself telling the class that there is something appropriate to do when we’ve done something that is disrespectful. I said that taking responsibility for what we’ve done (and offering an apology) is a way to make things better, and we call this “making amends.” I added that it takes a lot of maturity and strength to be willing to admit a mistake and say we are sorry.

I modeled the language for him, and he was willing to repeat these words: “I’m sorry for making noises when you were talking.” “Thank you for apologizing,” I answered. “Please try not to do it again.” Then I asked the class if anyone else had something they would like to apologize for. A second-grade girl raised her hand, and, with no prompting, said, “I have an apology for Julie. I’m sorry that I was talking when you were talking.” “I appreciate your apology. Thank you,”
I replied.

After that, there was a flurry of hands. It was surprising how many children wanted a chance to apologize to someone—and in such a public way! For about the next 30 minutes, one child after another raised his or her hand to offer an apology, or, as I suggested they might also want to do, ask someone for an apology. “I’m sorry I called you stupid.” “I’m sorry I didn’t let you play.” “I’d like to apologize for hitting you.” “I need an apology for when you told me you weren’t my friend.” And so it went, with many children expressing feelings of being hurt or regret for causing harm.

When one boy, who struggles with impulsivity, was asked by one child after another for an apology for his behavior towards them, I saw him shrinking, and I knew I needed to let him see that his classmates also cared for him. I told him that sometimes he did things that bothered other people, but he also knows how to be a good friend. Taking a chance, I asked his classmates to raise their hands if they could think of a way he had been a good friend to them.

I was wonderfully surprised and touched when a number of kids put their hands up. One by one, each child had the opportunity to tell him a way they have seen him be a good friend. “You asked me if I was okay when I fell down.” “You always help pick up the beads when they spill.” “You ask me to play at recess.” “You included me in the kickball game.” “This is who you are—a good friend!” I reinforced to a now-smiling boy.

The number of children who raised their hands, wanting a chance to make an apology, with no coaxing whatsoever, was astounding, and the sense of safety and love in the room was palpable. It seemed that the kids needed to have a way to express the things they had done, that they knew were not okay, and which they obviously regretted, and their apologies were said with great seriousness and sincerity.

When a child was asked to apologize for something he or she did not think happened, or perhaps was not ready to admit to, I modeled the words, “If I did that, I’m sorry.” I also taught them to say, in response to an apology, “I accept your apology,” or “Thank you for apologizing,” as well as, “Please don’t do that again,” rather than saying the usual, “That’s okay,” and so these phrases were added to their repertoire of skillful responses.

The meeting had gone on for so long that I needed to call an end to it, although hands were still being raised, requesting more turns. I said that perhaps this is something we’d like to do each Friday, to “clear the air” and make a fresh start each Monday!

Most children in my class qualify for free breakfast and lunch, and half the class is composed of second-language learners. Showing vulnerability is not something my students typically learn at home or in their neighborhood. I was deeply touched and felt a tremendous sense of pride in how far we have come together and how my effort to create a community of caring and respect in our classroom has borne fruit and had manifested during this particular class gathering.

Children always let us know, by their engrossed attention and active participation, when they are involved in an activity that is deeply meaningful. During this lengthy discussion, they paid rapt attention to everything being said, with no calling out and no inappropriate remarks or laughter. I felt awed by, and proud of, the capacity for self-reflection, generosity, and caring that my young students were displaying. By their seriousness, stillness, and focus, I knew that I wasn’t the only one aware that something precious was transpiring.

Once again, I am reminded of the possibilities that exist in each of our classrooms, in particular, the possibility that six-, seven-, and eight-year-olds can learn the skills of respectful, honest, and caring dialogue and the peaceful resolution of their differences.

 

Montessori Leadership / January 2014 / p 9