One of the worst experiences of my teaching career involved an attempt to referee a nine-year-old boys’ basketball game. I had never “reffed” a basketball game in my life, but the opposing team neglected to bring their own required official and one of my co-workers, desperate for assistance, coerced me into “helping” her. 

“Just stand there to be another body and I’ll make most of the calls,” was basically the message she gave me. So, after much hesitation and adamant “no’s” falling on deaf ears, I found myself standing there with a whistle around my neck, trying to appear to know what I was doing. 

I was so worried about calling “travelling,” “over and back,” and “three seconds in the key” that I failed to notice the elbowing and shoving going on right under my nose. When the coach of our home team started yelling, “Julie, they’re killing each other!” I nearly broke down for being so ill-prepared. 

It’s strange, but my love of children led me to both the career of teaching and the vocation of motherhood, and yet both tend to involve the dreaded pastime of refereeing. 

My own children have luckily outgrown the time when they found amusement in kicking over a train bridge made of blocks or enjoying the rise they could create by threatening to give away their sibling’s favourite doll. The fact that my husband and I listened to the feelings of all parties and allowed each child to process emotions – while also giving them consequences for any “violent” behaviours – has contributed to them growing up able to defend themselves and seek justice at school and at work. Most importantly, they know how to problem solve and are great friends with each other.

Bullying, teasing, and rough behaviours at school are harder to deal with than at home. When dealing with children from different backgrounds, experiences, and parenting styles, I have a limited framework for understanding and connecting with those who are in conflict. I do not know their full histories or why a certain comment or look may be particularly triggering. I try to listen but am limited in my understanding. Furthermore, just like my time on the basketball court, I find that I can become so worried about stopping behaviours and making everyone feel safe that I overlook the roots of problems which often cause the most damage.

I realize that a basketball game is not the best analogy for creating harmony in this world. It involves rules and demands respect, but ultimately, it is just a game. Games are loaded with competition and energy but are usually short-lived. Real-life issues of conflict based on ignorance of cultures, experiences, assumptions, past hurts, grudges, or misunderstandings are much more complex. I have dealt with some of these issues at school. Sadly, I also witness extreme conflict every time I turn on the evening news.

In families and schools, we strive to listen because we love the children in our care.

In war, love and listening appear to be long forgotten. Biases, assumptions, and misunderstandings result in painting groups with a single brush, rather than focusing on individuals with personal lives and rich stories. 

I felt ill-prepared to ref a basketball game, and I am even less equipped to stop a full-blown war. I can, however, strive to listen and understand those I encounter every day. In Isaiah, we hear that the Lord “will settle disputes for many peoples. They shall beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks; one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again.” As people of faith, we must turn to God and pray for peace. Additionally, we must act peacefully ourselves. 

I don’t have personal relationships with any current world leaders, but the leaders of the future live in my house and spend time in my classroom. I’ve proven that I’m not much good with a whistle but, armed with love and a desire to understand people’s stories, I pray that those in my circle will one day contribute to a world where no one is “killing each other.”

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