Because of the constant turnover at juvenile detention, new students arrived often. One morning it was a tall, slender 16-year-old named Anthony.  He swaggered into the classroom with a “don’t-you-dare-mess-with-me” arrogance. 

When I’d meet students like Anthony, I would try to cajole them into a better mood. I wanted them to let go of their defensive facades and to become one with the group. My efforts, however, weren’t always successful. I certainly made no progress that day with Anthony. 

Maybe it was “The Birdie Song” that gave him a negative first impression. Or, maybe he was just angry with the whole restrictive environment of detention. Whatever the reason, this boy wanted to make it clear he was far too mature and hip to be a part of my class. He was, in fact, older than many of the other students and further along in school. Unfortunately, detention offers just two class options for kids typically ages 12 to 18—not an ideal situation for any student. 

As the morning activities got under way, Anthony maintained his surly attitude. He challenged and interrupted and would not cooperate. Eventually, the detention officer removed him from the classroom because of his disruptive behavior. He went to a day room to be alone—not his “cell” but a place to spend time away from others.

Over lunch an officer accompanied him to the library so he could choose a book to read. The library was right outside my classroom and visible through the half-glass door. When I noticed him and the officer, I decided to “have a little talk.”

My normal reaction to conflicts with students removed from class was to wait until they returned and then to start anew.  I wanted to hold no grudges. I hoped we could all forget what had happened and have a redo. 

This time, however, I chose a different approach.

When I saw Anthony, my thoughts turned to something I had once heard my sister say. It was about how we can get so angry sometimes when our kids mess up. We may, on one level, want to make them regret their misbehavior by punishing them via the silent treatment or the cold shoulder. At those times, I remember her saying, we need to remember we are the adults in the situation and to act accordingly. We need to set a positive example to pave the way to reconciliation.

With that advice in mind, I approached Anthony. 

He was browsing in search of some good reading material and didn’t acknowledge my presence until I spoke to him.

“Hey, Anthony,” I began. “I want to apologize for what happened in class this morning. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot and that the situation escalated the way it did. I really am sorry.”

I fully expected to him to discount my apology and to remain smug and aloof. And if he did, I would have been able to pat myself on the back knowing at least I had done the “right thing.”

I never would have anticipated what happened next.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Anthony responded. “No,” he told me sincerely. “I am the one who is sorry. I was out of line.” 

Whoa! What an astonishing and noble response! And this coming from a young man I’d been ready to judge as defiant and unreachable! 

I remained stock-still for a moment, absolutely speechless.

(OK, seriously, who was the adult in the room at this moment?)

I had made a conscious effort to behave like the mature person I was supposed to be. In return, this young man displayed admirable adult qualities equaling those of anyone I’d ever known.

Soon after, Anthony returned to school to join the other students. He and I never had a problem again. For the rest of his time in detention, he remained polite and engaged in class activities. He even went on to become a positive role model for other students. 

Of course, I realize not every challenging situation will play out as successfully as this one did. That day I learned a vital lesson by taking the first step to extend the olive branch. All people deserve to feel valued, even those with whom we are at odds.

My ego always thinks it needs to win and be right. But, when I can override that need, good things happen. When I show up to face challenges in a calm, grown-up manner, the door to positive resolution opens.

And if the door opens, maybe we can all tie as winners.