The Conflict
The rift ignited between two factions of high school students who frequented the smoking pit behind the school. As tensions mounted, one group was pushed out of the back area and claimed the front of the school as their territory. Though about fifteen students were directly involved, the conflict’s core revolved around two students.
Conflict escalated when Jim (not his real name), a grade eleven student, found his Mercedes keyed. Jim filed a police report, but the perpetrator remained unknown. Jim thought he knew who did it and vehemently accused Ronnie (not his real name), a member of the front smoking group.
Both groups continued to gather in their respective smoking areas until a series of provocations escalated the feud. A sign declaring "No Greasy Kids" appeared in the back smoking pit, targeting the front group with this derogatory nickname. Soon after, stones near the bus stop were smeared with Vaseline, accompanied by notes repeating the greasy kids insult. Jim’s car was vandalized again and the situation worsened.
After school one day, a heated verbal exchange nearly erupted into violence. One student issued a chilling threat to slit another's throat from ear to ear, resulting in a 20-day suspension. Despite police involvement, no charges were filed.
The conflict snowballed into physical fights and cyberbullying. A Facebook group emerged, filled with derogatory pictures and threatening remarks aimed at those perceived as socio-economically disadvantaged. The principal hesitated to label it a "class conflict" but acknowledged it bore such elements. The Facebook group swelled to over fifty members, drawing students from three other schools that 'Liked' and/or commented on the hurtful images and remarks.
Suspensions followed for those posting inflammatory comments, yet the animosity only grew. In an attempt to diffuse the situation, the principal placed several involved students in an internship program, hoping their job placements would distance them from the turmoil.
Nevertheless, challenges to fight persisted and erupted into violence. The creator of the Facebook page faced multiple threats and feared for his safety, leading to his transfer to another school. Despite this, the threats continued, and he lived in constant fear of being attacked on his way home. Suspensions and police interventions failed to quell the conflict.
That was when Arthur was called in. The principal, recalling a Restorative Justice workshop Arthur had facilitated, sought his expertise to restore peace. Arthur invited me into the process.
First Step
The first step in a Restorative Process is to meet with the people in conflict, separately. It’s an essential step that must be handled carefully to ensure the success of the circle. In that premeeting you listen to their side of the story, the pain the situation has caused, and feelings of anger and strife. When voices are expressed and acknowledged, the offering is simply, “Would you be willing to engage in a process to repair the harm?”
Think about that question for a moment. Consider the series of events that continued to spiral out of control, that metastasized to three schools, that neither the police, nor suspensions, nor transferring schools, nor intern programs could alleviate. The question is a gentle but powerful offering. The conflict had taken on an energy of its own that nobody knew how to stop.
When we met with the two groups of people surrounding Jim and Ronnie, the nucleuses, they all expressed that they wanted this conflict to stop. They were angry, frustrated, and tired.
We met with Jim’s group first and they were all fully on board to resolve this conflict. Jim acknowledged his responsibility in the conflict by putting up the Facebook page, but didn’t feel it warranted being threatened with death, having to move schools, and completely turn his life upside down. In this phase, there is typically a lot of blame to go around.
As facilitators we acknowledge their voices, and hold strong to the most important question: “Would you be willing to engage in a process to repair the harm?” Jim’s group was enthusiastically on board and all agreed to take part in the circle. They all had had enough of this conflict! They were standing by their friend Jim. In this group of seven or eight students were the school athletes and socially connected students.
The other group, the one that might be considered socially-economically disadvantaged, were skeptical. There were five of them in the room and it was evident to me that if Ronnie agreed, they would follow. There was some testing of Arthur and me during this discussion which involved swearing, negative commentary about the other group, and other derogatory comments. Arthur and I did not react to Ronnie's outbursts, we responded with receptive silence, acknowledging the pain he and his friends were feeling.
In his discourse, however, there were moments of optimism and Ronnie seemed keen to joining the circle process to repair the harm. It was clear that everyone was tired of this conflict and wanted it to stop. But just when we thought we had a circle, an emotion erupted within Ronnie, and he slammed his fist on a table. “Fuck this!” he said and left the room, violently knocking over a chair before storming out. The others followed.
Arthur and I sat in silence for a moment. It would seem the circle was over before it started. To reiterate, the fundamental premise of doing restorative work is that all parties come to the table aligned in the spirit of repairing the harm. Which comes only by way of agreement. Not through coercion or threat of sanction, but by alignment to repair the harm. That is a non-negotiable starting point.
Yasuhiko Genku Kimura calls this ‘alignment beyond agreement’. In which he states, ‘alignment is congruence of intention, whereas agreement is congruence of opinion’. The congruence of intention in Restorative Justice is built around the idea of repairing the harm. Not punishment, sanctions, or retribution but repairing. Both parties have their own opinions on who is right and who is wrong in the conflict, and that’s okay. But both must align with the notion of repairing the harm. Or the circle does not move forward.
"Alignment as congruence of intention is congruence of resolution for the attainment of a particular aim. An aim being in and of the future, unpredicted or unpredictable variables inevitably enter the generative equations for its achievement. Inherent in alignment, therefore, is the spirit of quest.” –Yasuhiko Genku Kimura
So, we started with the quest of repairing the harm through a relational lens for a conflict that had been alive for many months and was continuing to escalate. Police and suspensions, i.e., an authority centered, offender centered, and punitive-based approach to this conflict was only escalating tensions, making people in the community feel unsafe, and creating more ‘wrongdoers’.
It was time to do something that felt counterintuitive and bring everyone together. Inevitably, there is unpredicted and unpredictable variables in this process, which is an underlying resistance to restorative justice. It upsets our sensibilities to not have predictable outcomes. And even though the predictable outcomes of punitive justice include increased emotional and psychological angst for victims, and frequently lead to recidivism, perpetuating cycles of crime and incarceration for offenders, at least we know the outcomes. A fear that keeps us in familiar, albeit unhealthy paradigms because the anxiety and uncertainty associated with unknown outcomes can feel even more catastrophic. This is the paradigm shift we would do well to entertain if safer, healthier communities is our intention.
Our first unpredictable variable was Ronnie flipping chair and storming out of the premeeting.
“Come with me,” Arthur said as he stood up. We went to where we knew Ronnie would be at the front smoking area by the bus stop. He looked skeptical as we approached. He had one foot on school property as if baiting us to censure him for smoking there. He brazenly blew smoke rings, not at us, but just over us.
Arthur said to Ronnie, “I want to acknowledge you for your strength.” And he went on to commend him for affirming his independence, and that he had the perfect right to decline to come to the circle process. What I saw when Ronnie stormed out of the room was anger and fear, but also courage. Arthur focused on that courage.
Arthur continued, “I just want to make sure you’re sure. In our conversation you did seem interested in a process to repair the harm. I just want to extend that offer again. You don’t even have to decide right now. You can think about it.” Then Arthur left a space of silence.
Ronnie dragged on his cigarette; his demeanor was much calmer than when he left the classroom. Arthur’s gentle demeanor and authenticity provided a space of peacefulness. Ronnie exhaled, flicked his cigarette on the ground, stomped on it, and said, “Fuck it, I’m in.” And with that the circle was on.
On the day of the circle Ronnie was there with his friends. Jim was alone. None of his ‘friends’ who were so eager to support him showed up. Not one. And he was visibly nervous. In the aftermath of violent conflict and setting up a disparaging Facebook page, he was being asked to sit in a circle to face the music alone. His nervousness became so acute that he said, “I can’t do this!” and fled out of the building. Again, the circle was off. This time the principal, support staff directly involved in the conflict, and Ronnie and his friends were there ready to go.
I followed him while Arthur stayed with the group. I found Jim sitting in the passenger seat of his mom’s car, door open, and feet hanging outside. His mother was standing by the car. His mother and I talked for several minutes as Jim seemed in deep contemplation. In that conversation I learned about his brother, his father, and about Jim’s struggles with family and life. Ronnie’s perception of Jim as a rich kid without a care in the world was, of course, not accurate. Then there was silence.
After a minute or two I asked Jim, “What do you think?”
He shook his head indicating no, he was not going back.
“I don’t blame you. It can feel scary going into a circle. It is your choice,” I said. Then I told him that he was strong for showing up, and that it was very empowering to take a stance and say no. “You do what you need to do,” I said.
I’d like to pause here in the story to address a common refrain about the restorative process. Often when I talk about it, I hear, “It’s just a slap on the wrist. He, she, they are just going to come in, pretend they’re sorry, and offer a fake apology just to avoid responsibility. Setting aside the punitive paradigm that spawns the sentiment, ‘slap on the wrist’, put yourself in the shoes of the young man that showed up to the circle without his peers. Imagine a year-long escalation of conflict where you’ve said and done hurtful things. You’ve been transferred from your home school because of the threat of violence. You cannot walk home from your new school for fear of someone jumping out from behind a bush and ‘slitting your throat ear to ear’. Now you’re being asked to sit in a circle to listen to how your words and actions have hurt people. Think about it. How might you feel going into a circle like that? I can tell you from the dozens of circles I have facilitated, that people say it’s the hardest thing they’ve even done in their life. Words I’ve heard entering circles are, “I feel like I’m walking into an ambush.”
Engaging in a restorative justice in anything but an easy out. Let’s go back to our story where the young man is sitting in his car, rocking nervously, his feet hanging out the passenger side of the door.
“What if it doesn’t work?” he asked. “Then this is all for nothing.”
I shrugged my shoulders and said, “What if it does? If you don’t try, you’ll never know. The real question is how long can you walk around your community in fear? If there’s even a chance of it working…”
“I don’t know,” he said, contemplatively.
I intuited that I should not say anything else until he spoke. It felt like a long time that nothing was said. It was probably about two minutes. Then he jumped out of the van and started walking back toward the school. He said nothing. I must admit, I was a little surprised at the spontaneous way he sprung into action. Some thought came alive within him and moved him forward. When we walked back into the room, the principal looked relieved. Arthur smiled. The circle was back on.
The Oncoming Storm
In the ancient book the I Ching, Chun stands for Difficulty at the Beginning. In the hexagram, the Abysmal, the rain, is the above trigram and the Arousing, thunder, is the trigram below. It symbolizes the challenges and obstacles that arise at the start of something new. This hexagram suggests perseverance, patience, and careful planning are crucial for overcoming initial difficulties. The imagery of water over thunder evokes the idea of stormy weather, where turmoil and turbulence must be navigated with caution and resilience. In our circle everybody settled into their chairs and silence fell over the space. The calm before the storm.
Arthur smiled gently and visually connected with each person in the circle. “Okay let’s begin,” he said.
Before Ronnie stormed out of the premeeting he was able to articulate what he needed to repair the harm was an apology from Jim. “And he better be looking me right in the eyes because I’ll know if he’s full of shit! If he doesn’t look me in the eyes, I’m not believing it!” Jim expressed in his pre-meeting, with his friends, that he wanted to feel safe at school and in the community. Both groups, and everyone connected to this conflict, wanted it to stop.
Arthur introduced himself and explained the process. He told a story about how the 'talking stone' in his hand made it there, initiating the storytelling process. A condition of the circle is that only the person holding the stone can speak. There would be opportunity for everyone to say what they needed to say, but if they did not have the stone their comments would have to wait. As you might imagine, this prevents people from trying to talk over each other. You can use anything as a talking symbol. I have seen a feather used and I’ve heard of sticks and jewelry functioning as talking symbols. I personally like stones. Warmth tends to transfer from the hands that hold them, and that warmth moves around the circle as it is passed.
Once the introductions were done Arthur passed the talking stone to Jim and asked four questions: How did you become involved in setting up the Facebook page? What were you thinking, feeling at the time? What has been your experience since the that time leading up to today? Who have you seen affected by this event?” Following each of Jim’s answers Arthur paused between the next question. The pause serves two purposes. It allows the emotion to be felt in the circle and it gives time for Jim to speak more if necessary. In a circle you want to slow things down with lots of pauses. Arthur is a master of slowing things down.
Jim admitted his mistake and expressed that he was angry that his parent’s car was vandalized twice. Creating the Facebook page was a ‘stupid thing to do’. As the situation digressed, he realized his mistake and expressed how he had a difficult time removing the page. He tried several times over the course of weeks before he was able to find someone from Facebook to help him take it down. Leaving the page up in the wake of suspensions and calls to remove it made him appear to be rebellious, uncaring. He expressed that he felt afraid at school and in the community. The people he saw affected were everybody in the circle, his parents, the school community, him…etc. He also articulated some of the struggles he was having at home.
The tension in the room intensified as Jim told his story. He caused a great deal of harm by creating a Facebook page and as the story surfaced it was clear everybody involved was become visibly upset. Teeming chaotic profusion was building and the storm was coming.
In my experience of facilitating circles, what participants hold as sacred is that only the person holding the stone gets to speak. Outbursts do happen, but instead of trying to make their counterpoint by shouting over the speaker, they blurt out something like, “I need the stone! Give me the stone, I have something to say!” In this case the people harmed by the Facebook page had tension in their faces and bodies. They wanted the stone. They seemed ready to rip into Jim.
When Jim was finished with his part, Arthur asked Ronnie the same series of questions. Anger vented through his answers about what a horrible experience it was for him and his friends. The humiliation they felt by the horrible things that were said about them and the pictures that were posted. A theme that surfaced was that Jim and his rich friends did not know what it was like for them. Ronnie talked about his experience about being marginalized in school and in the community while Jim and friends, “Flash twenty-dollar bills around like its nothin’.” Another person in the circle talked about having a parental responsibility getting siblings ready in the morning… Each student in Ronnie's circle of friends told stories that I had heard in various ways in my role of teaching Kung Fu to children in care.
Arthur gently nudged in once or twice to adjust language. Language like, “You made me feel…” is better expressed as “I felt when you…” for instance. It is subtle shift but helps a person to take ownership of their emotions. The ‘You made me feel’ phrase places power onto the other person and can amplify victim mentality. When people feel victimized, powerless, they can justify harmful actions. That’s how Jim’s car became an object of vandalism, and the Vaseline, and the threats and fighting all justified by the harm those actions caused. Lower-level emotions, as we talk about them in Dynamic Balance, need to release, projected outward on a symbol of their anger, like a flashy Mercedes, a Facebook page, threats, fighting... An escalation of harm fueling more anger and retributive actions.
And so the conflict grew into an energy that could not be contained by traditional methods of justice, which incidentally follow the same escalation path; i.e., threat of punishments, longer suspensions, criminal charges...etc.
Everybody in the circle were asked the same questions. All viewpoints of this conflict were now being voiced. Tension was thick in the room, and it was clear that this conflict was negatively affecting dozens of people, a ripple of discord that had expanded through many months and was now expressing through the circle… It took about an hour and a half for everybody to answer those questions. When everybody had a chance to speak, Arthur received the talking stone and thanked everybody for their voices. He turned to Jim and asked him if there was anything he would like to say to anyone in the group.
This is often a pivotal step in the process. By this point it can feel overwhelming for the person who participated in the offending behaviour. While Jim was able to articulate who he thought had been affected, he had just heard how deeply his actions had affected people, from Ronnie and his friends to the principal to the greater community. His head was titled to the ground and his shoulders rolled forward. He was clearly feeling terrible, maybe even shame. This is often a time when an authentic apology surfaces. While Jim was clearly affected by the voices and feelings of those in the circle, he shook his head no and did not say anything.
Arthur passed the stone to Ronnie and asked him what he needed to repair the harm. Ronnie reiterated what he had told us in the premeeting, that he needed an apology and it ‘better be real!’ His body was full of tension, his lips pursed tight, his eyes angry and glaring at Jim as if expecting to be let down. He shook his head cynically at Jim’s silence.
Suddenly Jim sprang to his feet and screamed, “I’m sorry! It was the biggest mistake of my life! I would do anything to take it back!” He shouted exasperatedly, then said that he had tried to take the Facebook page down for weeks before it came down, and how frustrating that process was. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to say it or what else to do. I would do anything to take it back!” He was looking Ronnie directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry!”
Ronnie seemed taken aback. Stillness. Silence. Then he stood up, his face still grim and stepped toward Jim. Now toe-to-toe, Ronnie looked directly into Jim’s eyes, as if testing him. Jim held his steely gaze. I can’t say who initiated it, but suddenly they were embraced in a hug. The tension of the room broke. Nobody could have predicted that.
Like a high fever breaking their conflict released, the heated energy subsided, bringing a much-needed sense of relief for everyone. Clarity returned as the fog of tension lifted in the process that allowed them to see each other's perspectives more clearly, and pave the way for understanding and reconciliation.
But the drama was not over. An event was still to take place that would upset the sensibilities of the educators, something they never would have let happen but for the trust the principal placed in Arthur.
Following the hug, everyone else in the circle had a chance to express what was happening in their experience, what they needed to repair the harm. All agreed that what they needed was for the conflict to stop, not for restitution, not for somebody to be punished, but simply for the conflict to end, for a sense of order and harmony to return to the school setting.
Our circle had turned the corner, but we were not done yet. The teeming profusion had not fully expressed yet.
Ronnie decided he needed one more thing to repair the harm. He wanted all the adults to leave the room so he and his friends could be alone with Jim. The principal shook his head in a silent communication that clearly said, ‘no way’.
Arthur asked Jim what he thought about that. Jim said nonchalantly, “I’m okay with that.” His calm demeanor was a clear contrast to his fear prior to entering the circle.
The principal looked at Arthur for reassurance. Arthur looked at me as if to ask if I had any objection. I nodded that it was a good idea to leave them alone for a few minutes without adults in the room. It is in fact a common practice for a facilitator to leave the room after participants of the circle express what they needed to repair the harm. This serves as time for facilitators to take notes and record responsibilities if more than the apology is agreed upon. And it gives people involved in the conflict a chance to be together without an intermediary facilitator. Arthur asked Jim again if it was okay with him. Jim said simply, “I okay with it.” And with that the adults left the room and stood in the hallway.
The door had a small glass panel that was too high for any us to see through without elevating on tippy toes. Then it started, the screaming, swearing, crashing of chairs, and slamming of tables. The principal and school staff looked terrified. As the chaos continued for a few minutes, the principal asked if we should go in and break it up. Arthur quickly peered into the room, and shook his head no. The crashing, screaming, swearing, and banging of furniture went on for over five minutes. Then it all turned silent. A minute or so later, the door opened, Ronnie stuck his head out, and said, “Okay, we’re done.”
We went back in the room and the students were calmly working together to straighten up the room, then started packing up their things to leave. “Hold on,” Arthur said with a smile. “We have to close the circle.” They all looked peaceful. No blood, no fear, just a calm beyond the storm. Jim stood in front of that fire honourably, and adhered to a code of courage that earned a great deal of respect from Ronnie’s group.
All people in the circle had a chance to say some final comments, then we went to our respective corners in the world. We heard later that the circle immediately released tensions in the three schools where this energy had proliferated. With the conflict defused, Jim was able to come back to his home school.
About a year later, we were doing a Restorative Justice training for educators in the same district and a young woman in the circle came to our training as a guest speaker. She told the group about her profound experience through a poem she had written and encouraged the educators to run restorative circles in their schools.
Opening the conversation with the intention on repairing the harm addresses responsibilities but goes far beyond that. It allows the healthy release of red-hot emotions, a raging fire stoked by angry thoughts that need release, that need to be heard. Retributive justice is an eye-for-an-eye reactive approach that marches an offender in a straight line, like walking a plank, into the abyss of isolation. The victimized person and the one who perpetrated the offence are to be obedient in their silence as the offender is called to pay their debt to society. Society is an abstract, meaningless concept if not considering the individuals that make up its fabric.
Restorative Justice is a transformative approach to conflict that embraces and addresses the challenges of coming together after harm with the intention to repair. By creating a space for voice and understanding, the restorative process lays the groundwork for stability, peace, and transformation. It provides a safe environment for expressing difficult emotions and asks what needs to happen to repair the harm. In my experience of facilitating dozens of circles, an authentic apology carries far greater weight than any punishment, setting the stage for profound personal and social transformation.
Prologue
In the Book “Restorative Justice” by Arthur Lockhart and Lynn Zammit Transformation relates to Restorative Justice through Five Key Elements: Community, Capacity, Connection, Voice, and Sacredness.
The essence of Community is brought to life by relationships; Capacity invites participants to let go of retributive paradigms in favour of strength-based accountability; Connection engages empathy, compassion, and a fundamental shift from “I” to “We” in positive resolution; Voice informs us that there is a world of difference between listening and waiting to speak, a relational experience where people in the circle really get a chance to express their feelings; Sacredness is the invitation to let Creative and Spiritual energy to come alive within the process.
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