Friday afternoon, I walked back into my classroom to a scene that is not unusual in any group of young children. One child had just hit another (both three years old), attempting to get a coveted toy. I walked over to the two, and as I always do, I looked at the crying child who had been hit and said, "Wow, it looks like Y is really hurting."
Then, I recognized that wasn't the whole picture, and looked at the child who had hit (this time), who was already averting their eyes, and said, "It looks like A is hurting too."
A turned around, stunned at my ability to perceive what was obvious to them. This time, at least. "Yeah!" They exclaimed.
Y stopped crying and looked at A. I offered hugs to both, and attempted to sportscast what I saw. "A wanted that toy, and Y had it! Y didn't want to be hit."
A looked at Y, and said, "Yeah, and I really wanted the truck, but I didn't want to hurt you."
Both children found a spot in my lap, and Y volunteered, unprompted, "You can have it when I'm done!"
They resumed play, and Y indeed passed the toy over after a few more minutes of use, completely without adult involvement or peer reminder.
Then, I recognized that wasn't the whole picture, and looked at the child who had hit (this time), who was already averting their eyes, and said, "It looks like A is hurting too."
A turned around, stunned at my ability to perceive what was obvious to them. This time, at least. "Yeah!" They exclaimed.
Y stopped crying and looked at A. I offered hugs to both, and attempted to sportscast what I saw. "A wanted that toy, and Y had it! Y didn't want to be hit."
A looked at Y, and said, "Yeah, and I really wanted the truck, but I didn't want to hurt you."
Both children found a spot in my lap, and Y volunteered, unprompted, "You can have it when I'm done!"
They resumed play, and Y indeed passed the toy over after a few more minutes of use, completely without adult involvement or peer reminder.
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