By Marineh Khachadour

I imagine a world free of violence and oppression, where living things co-exist in a beautiful cacophony, and where compassion guides our actions and words.

It may sound utopian, but I believe that the process of education can lead to liberation of the heart as well as of the mind. So I teach - at a public elementary school in Pasadena, California - and hope that the children of today may create and live in a better world in the future. 

More than once during the course of the day, I find myself in a position of a mediator between six and seven year olds. They come to me, each hoping that I, the adult with authority (and presumably wisdom) will settle their dispute. They don't wish for a fair outcome. Each one of them hopes that I will judge in favor of his/her argument. Their own cause is so paramount to them, that they only see one possible solution: punishment of the other.

Disagreements, hurt feelings and limbs are integral to the condition of humans. My goal as a teacher of young children is to help them find a way to soothe the pain and a solution agreeable to both sides. My rule of thumb is to help the disputing children imagine themselves in place of the other.  Reluctantly they try, and sometimes they go away disappointed. But when a minute later I see them play and laugh together as if nothing has happened, I know, they will be alright. 

Empathizing with the other usually works well, at least with children. It helps them realize the boundaries of their physical self and overcome the momentary pain by recognizing the same in the other. Within the walls of the classroom and the loosely fenced spaces of the playground, they learn to play fair, to accept and forgive, be kindhearted, and see the goodness in the world outside of themselves.  So, how do we end up with a world so wretched rolling in violence and cruelty?

I realize that by the time my students are ready to graduate from high-school and step into the real world, they will have learned all about competition, winning and losing, having to maneuver in life so they always emerge on top at all cost. They will have pledged allegiance to a flag most days of their schooling lives, and may even have gone through paramilitary training. They may have learned to handle weapons and follow orders, so that they can put their rifle to use at a drop of a command when faced with the enemy. 

The enemy in the adult world will be a former seven-year-old who played with other seven year olds on this earth, in the same lifetime, guided by educators like myself with similar dreams and aspirations for the world.

(The fact that educators for that age group happen to be females more often than not, and that this statistic changes in older age groups even in the most developed countries is a topic for another discussion.)

I want the adults in my students' lives to reassure them that in the end all will be right. So I make a phone call home when a student resorts to solving a problem by physically engaging the opponent or displaying disrespect.

The conversation with the adults in the lives of my students, however, sometimes leaves me hopeless and discouraged. Unlike places with homogeneous ethnic makeup, in the multiethnic "salad bowl" that is the United States, individuals come with the baggage of not only their previous personal experiences but with the collective history of the ethnic group from which they descend. It is a fact that deems so unimportant in a setting of seven-year-olds but becomes glaringly highlighted in the depths of adult interactions.

"My child should be able to defend himself. I tell him not to be a coward and to hit back when someone hits him," says an Armenian parent. Armenian people have a history of being on the defensive. We have developed this instinct so well that we believe that when we kill a fly simply because it is in our field of vision, it is because the fly is trespassing our breathing space; therefore it is at fault and deserves to be killed. Our strategy, as in the game of chess we play so well, is to be on the offense and defense at the same time.

"Why is my child always being picked on?" is a black parent's response. What she wants to say, and some do, is "What are you doing about the other? Are you calling them?" Black families have learned to be doubtful not only of the other, but of the system that judges wrongly - one that takes a harsher stand toward a black male. A black parent needs to make sure the system (the teacher) is on their child's side and is being fair by disciplining all involved.

"My child is a good boy/girl," is the response I get from a Latino parent. Then I know to expect a call from the higher ups to whom the parents will complain about their child being bullied and discriminated against. Latin Americans from Mexico and Central America have a long history of enduring less than desirable treatment and working conditions from westward moving adventurers in California.

"I know my child. I'll talk to him," will say a white parent knowing that their child can be at fault and will expect a consequence.  But a white parent coming from a position of supremacy knows that such is life and in the end, they prevail regardless.

Not one group's collective history is the same as the others' until you imagine them as seven year olds playing in a group with other seven year olds. Learning to negotiate our world is part of growing up. Children seek intervention from a third party due to their need to get what they want and their inability to obtain it. The end result is their only concern.  

They learn the means of getting to the end from the adults in their lives. The way the adults respond to a situation may bring children closer to developing competencies that help them deal with the world in a way that satisfies their needs without causing harm to others. Sometimes, accepting disappointment and not feeling as a loser is necessary for a child to develop confidence towards his/her own abilities to settle a problem. For this, they need to know the difference between doing what's best as opposed to doing "what's best for me."

Adults' responses may also lead children to mistrust their opponent's intentions, or avoid responsibility for the pain and the suffering of themselves and of the other. The justification for this line of thinking is, "if others have done it this way, why can't we?

Children today grow up in a hyper-politicized world. They live in families, communities, and societies that are in constant conflict with internal and external factions. Naturally, parents want them to succeed in the tough, real world,  but I doubt that instilling in them distrust towards others and resorting to the use of physical force and disrespect as a means of conflict resolution empowers children to make positive connections and build happy lives for themselves and for others.

Humans are imperfect, and a world free of violence and oppression I may not see in my lifetime. But I know that humans have an enormous capacity to envision, to learn, to re-create, and create.

After all, this is the only single factor that gives us advantage in the animal world. Why not make full use of this incredible ability and encourage our children to make a better future possible? It may sound idealistic, but how else do we redefine the world for the future?

Marineh Khachadour is an educator, writer and researcher working in a public school in Pasadena, California.  She immigrated to the United States from Armenia in 1980 and returned to live and work in Armenia from 1992-1998. During that time she provided educational services and resources for Armenian women and children including refugees and served as Gender in Development Expert with UNDP, Armenia from 1995-1998.