“Just to let you know,” the principal said, “you’ll likely have trouble with Jake’s mom.”
Jake Jeffers was new at our school, but his mom’s reputation had preceded him.
“Try not to get sued,” the principal said as he left.
I couldn’t tell if he was serious about the suing. But he was right about trouble.
From the first phone call, Jake’s mom begged for a quarrel. I wanted to hang up. Instead, I asked to meet. And then I gathered the tools I had learned at the Corrections Training Academy.
At the academy, I was all ears. How to avoid conflict in a classroom full of inmates? I wanted to know. How to de-escalate? That, too! How to make the classroom a safe, peaceful place? Yes! Yes! Yes!
But what I didn’t appreciate then was how much that training would impact my teaching outside the prison. People everywhere, it seems, need someone to bring calm.
Especially Jake’s mom.
By the time she came along, I had circled the block more than a few times. And I had honed some strategies. In my many discussions with Mrs. Jeffers, here’s what I put to use:
Talking with her, not at her: I tried not to say things as if there was one answer and I was the only one who had it. Instead, I worked to keep our talks a dialogue, not a monologue. For my part, I took short talking turns, making bite-sized comments and asking questions instead of making assumptions.
If she went on and on, I’d break in.
“Mrs. Jeffers,” I’d say, “I’d like to cut in here. I’m curious. Could you tell me . . .”
She liked to hear her name, so she usually stopped to find what was coming next. And she took my curiosity as a compliment.
Redirecting Negative Energy: If someone throws a punch, an instructor at the academy said, you have options—slip it (get out of the way), smother it (move in on it before it develops enough momentum to hurt you), or ride it (position yourself in a way that makes the force of the punch dissipate to a tolerable level).
The instructor was describing what to do with a physical punch. But these strategies also work during verbal attacks. With Mrs. Jeffers, smothering worked best. At the first signs that she was riled, I’d move in.
“I’m curious,” I’d say. “You’ve been frustrated with every teacher Jake’s had. “I keep trying to improve my teaching, so tell me, what traits are important in a teacher?”
When I moved in close like this, Mrs. Jeffers couldn’t work up a good punch.
The school year ended, and Mrs. Jeffers never sued me. She even said once that I was a good teacher. And so, among many failures, Mrs. Jeffers became one of my success stories.
But there was an added element I put forth, one I didn’t learn at the academy, and one that was key. When my conversations were soaked with compassion and free of contempt, that’s when they worked best.

Thanks for this post, Phyllis! So much wisdom here.
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Yes! I had my moments in teaching too. Some difficult conversations but never sued. Always good to be a good, compassionate listener. I enjoy your insights.
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