(By Lou Levin, Ph.D., for the staff manual of the Georgia O’Keeffe summer program, Art and Leadership for  Boys)

When we need to confront a boy about something that he’s done wrong, we want him to be able to learn from whatever happened, to understand why what he’s done was wrong, and to know what he could do the next time he’s in a similar situation. 

First, we need to be aware of how he will experience the confrontation. It will help to understand a little about what’s going on in a child’s brain when we approach him. For the first 2 years of a baby’s life, the right side (emotional side) of the brain - imagery, pictures, feelings, develops first. We learn these things from our parents’ posture, facial expression, the tone & rhythm of their voice as they interact with us.  They’re wired in pretty early, and pretty much stay that way unless something very different happens to change them. When we start to use words, our language is laid over this emotional baseline. Therefore, a right brain (ours)-to-right brain (child’s) interaction is always at work as we communicate. The younger the child, the more this non-verbal communication is dominant. However, it is always at work, no matter how old we are. That “feeling” that you get about the other person when you first start meeting them comes from this.

These communications occur in microseconds. Almost immediately, you know this is a good person to be with, or not. You may not realize it right away, but its there: your brain is picking this up. Usually, no matter what the first signals are, we feel okay enough to continue. Our normal feelings-to-brain-as-usual loop keeps going. 

But when there is a perception of danger, the brain shortcuts the normal loop, and activates a danger loop. Once we’re alerted to danger, very little energy goes into the cerebral cortex, the thinking part of the brain, and a whole lot goes rushing into fight-flight centers that get the body ready for immediate action. 

What makes an interaction successful? The first major question that the brain looks at when an interaction begins is, Is this going to be safe? By instantaneously scanning the posture, tone of voice, facial expression, etc., of the other person, the brain decides, “Okay,” or “Not okay.”  An “Okay” is given when it seems this will be an interaction that results in a safe, calm, satisfying state. Once that’s given, the child can take in what you’re saying, think about it, and usually work out a reasoned response. Boys will be okay with you if (a) you seem safe to them, and (2) they’ve had mostly good experiences with adults.

If the boy has done something that he thinks you might think was wrong or bad, or if he doesn’t know you and how you react to things, or if he’s had lots of experience with people blaming him for things he did or might have done, his “Not Okay” antenna will be way up. He will be very ready to read the slightest negative signals from you as a danger to himself. Once he does, his brain goes into protection mode, and he cannot think clearly, make a better decision, etc. The question, “Why did you do that?” in an angry or irritated voice, is almost certainly going to get, “I don’t know” as an answer, along with shame, fear, or defiance, and blocking of the mind’s route to the cerebral cortex. No way of working out a better solution will be possible. 

However, if you can stay calm, be aware of how he’s feeling right then, and show that you’re interested in solving the problem rather than punishing him, he may be able to think, take responsibility, and figure out (with your help) how to do better.

For example, you come across a boy who’s just been fighting. You say (calmly, and with a look of interest, and lets-work-this-thing-out on your face):

“Hey, Billy. Come here, man, I want to talk to you. You look pretty mad; tell me what’s up?”

 Because you seem to be a safe person to talk to, he tells you what happened. You then say,

“Okay, so he pushed you and you lost it. All right, that happens sometimes. But fighting isn’t the way we want to do things here. So what else do you think you could do next time so it doesn’t turn into a fight?” 

Now, you and he can do some “problem-solving.” At the end, he knows it wasn’t the right thing to do, he knows you’re not going to let this happen, he doesn’t have to feel ashamed because of the non-punitive way you approached him, and he’s got an idea for next time. He feels good, you’ve helped him do better. Everybody wins. 

This is, of course, a summary. The actual conversation goes a bit longer, and there’s usually more to it, but this is the basic outline. 

So, almost always, the goal is to react to the child in ways that facilitate a basic level of restoration to safety and security. In fact, the success or failure of this confrontation will largely occur before you start talking, because the way you approach him- concerned, calm, interested- will signal to him what you are about, whether or not he’s safe, and how this thing is going to go. 

Of course, there are times when somebody’s actual physical safety demands a stronger, firm action on you part, and there’s no time for the kind of “soft” exchange shown above. In these cases, if at all possible, try to be as firm as you need to be without anger, or, if an angry response is necessary to get a point across (for example, he just slugged a kid who wasn’t even looking at him) keep it limited to the action and then try to calm it down. Maintaining the anger beyond the necessary, appropriate moment keeps him in the agitated/fearful state: he will not calm down and begin to think about what happened as long as he feels he’s in danger from your anger. But he will learn if you help him. Even the tough cookies get it after a while if we handle them in a firm, kind way.