I have the tattlingest class I’ve ever had this year. That’s
not a word, but I just made it one. Because that’s how much they tattle. They
will tattle about anything and everything. Here is a random smattle of tattles
I’ve heard this year (another new word, because why not?):
“Mrs. Miller, today in the lunchroom a fourth grader looked
at me.”
“Mrs. Miller, Sylvia stole my idea.”
“Mrs. Miller, Jude told me I was tall.”
“Mrs. Miller, Ryan hissed at me.”
I’ve heard that one more than once, actually.
The best part is, after a full day with the wagging tongues
of 20 kids, I head home to the arch nemesis brother/sister tattling battle waiting
at home.
I don’t like tattling to start with, and this year, my cup
runneth over. Tattling makes me angry. I was feeling frustrated, overwhelmed,
and losing my temper every day: at school and at home.
I needed some help. ASAP.
I listen to the Real Talk for Real Teachers podcast by Becky
Bailey. I found an episode about conflict management in preschool. The
guest on the episode walked kids through a dialogue for conflicts. I decided
that if four-year-olds could do it, mine could too.
Monday morning, I went in to school prepared to tackle
tattling. It wasn’t long before I had my first opportunity. Here’s how it went:
Julie: “Mrs. Miller, Ryan hissed at me.”
At this point, Julie expected me to march over to Ryan and
tell him that we DO NOT HISS at our classmates. Maybe I’d even shake my finger.
Maybe I’d even make him run a lap at recess for punishment.
Instead, I looked Julie straight in the eye and asked, straight-faced,
“Did you like it?”
Julie: “Um… no.” She was wondering at this point if I’d
completely lost my marbles. I mean, Ryan is really good at hissing. He could do
voice overs for villains in movies, probably.
“Oh,” I replied. “Then go tell Ryan you don’t like it.”
I
walked with Julie over to the sulking Ryan, and made sure they were making eye
contact. With a little extra prompting, she told Ryan she didn’t like it when
he hissed at her.
“Say it in your strong voice,” I urged. A mumbled whisper
wasn’t going to do much to deter villainous hissing, after all.
Julie: “I don’t like it when you hiss at me!”
Better.
Me: “Now tell him to stop. Use your strong voice.”
Julie: “Please stop hissing at me!”
Ryan: “Ug, ok, I won’t hiss at you.” <Eye roll. Shoulder
slump. Dramatic sigh.>
Apology acquired, Julie went back to work, and we all moved
on with our lives.
This is the end of the story. There was no more tattling
ever again, and we all lived in harmony henceforward.
NOPE! I wish!
I had to repeat this process with various other kids
throughout the day. And the next day. And the next. I had to repeat it Friday,
and I’ll have to repeat it Monday. I feel like a broken record constantly. But
after deliberate coaching, most of my students have begun to realize that I am
not going to solve their problems. They have started to use their assertive
voices themselves, to stand up for themselves, and to do so with confidence.
Tattling is on the wane in my classroom. I still handle the
big issues, but the smaller ones are all dealt with by the kids. All I have to
do now is ask “Did you like it?” and they know what to do.
I’m not feeling angry and overwhelmed anymore. Instead,
I feel really good about the fact that I taught this group of kids how to stand
up for themselves and use their strong voices to demand proper treatment.
If you like this strategy, and would like to use it with
your kids or students, you’ll love my Assertiveness Cheat Sheet. Keep it handy
to remember the exact wording to prompt the kids to solve their own problems. It’s
my first freebie!
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