The importance of conflict in learning compassion, boundaries, and more
The other day, I was sitting in my office, on the phone with my sister, when I heard a group of teen guys talking outside my window. I glanced over to see three young men walking to a car.
I often people-watch outside my office window, so I haphazardly kept them in my peripheral view while continuing our discussion.
Two of the guys leaned up against the car, while another went up to the side wall of a house, standing unusually close to it. He took a wide legged stance. That’s odd, I thought.
Even odder was the water that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, spraying my neighbor’s wall.
Then I realized: That’s not water.
I asked my sister to hold on, muting the phone. I opened my window and shouted, “Hey, what are you doing?”
The boys all got quiet. The one who had been urinating in public said nothing except, “Huh?”
I replied back shakily, hoping I was coming off more authoritative than I felt, “I saw what you were doing.”
They all quietly got into the car to drive away. I snapped photos of him and the car as quickly as I could, knowing they had to have been visiting someone in the neighborhood.
My boyfriend came running into the room. “What’s happening?”
That’s when we both heard it. As they drove away, the kid hung out his window and shouted at the top of his lungs, “S**k my d**k you f**king b**ch!”
I looked at my boyfriend, stunned.
He returned the look solemnly, “What are you going to do?”
I quickly compiled a status update to our neighborhood Facebook group. As incensed as I was by the situation, instead of crucifying him with words, I decided to take my own advice and simply lay out the facts. I asked for anyone with information to contact me.
Then, we decided to take our dog for a walk to blow off steam.
As we rounded the corner to the park, a young boy from a few doors down came running after us, “Hey, my mom is really mad. She says that you said one of my friends did something?”
I nodded and explained the situation. The frantic boy went back to the wall. “Well, I mean, I know it’s hot out here, but there’s no mark. You’d see a mark if he actually did that, right?”
He told us that he’d called his friend and his friend denied it. He was talking fast, explaining he’d known this kid since the 4th grade. My boyfriend and I recognized this for what it was: a sweet attempt to protect his buddy, who didn’t have the guts to be honest with his friend.
I couldn’t be mad at the kid. This was not his doing. I asked to speak to his mom.
She came outside in tears, apologizing, explaining how she had agreed to have a few of her son’s friends over before they all left for college. They hadn’t seen each other in months or had the chance to graduate together. She wanted to give them a special experience. “And this is how he repays me?” She choked out the words.
Even in COVID times, I hugged her. “This is not a reflection on you.” I said. She broke down further.
We talked a while and calmed her down. She said she would call his parents shortly. “I just can’t believe he would do and say that.”
Marshall interjected, “Usually, a kid like that grows up in a family where he’s been coddled, or in one where he’s gotten the belt.”
She looked thoughtful. “Well, he’s grown up with both.”
Marshall and I exchanged glances. It was all starting to come together.
We continued our walk with Lambert, talking about the situation and sharing compassion for all parties involved. I knew I had no control over what happened next. Our neighbor could choose not to go through with the phone call. Even if she made it, the parents may not receive it well or believe the situation. Even if they do, the kid may still not fully understand his actions.
All we could do was feel confident in how we handled the part of the conflict that was in our control.
About thirty minutes later, our doorbell rang. The boy who had yelled profanities and the neighbor’s son were at our doorstep.
The boy locked eyes with me while giving me a tearful apology, walking through how he has no idea what prompted that behavior, that he’s never acted like that before, I didn’t deserve it, and how it would never happen again.
I glanced at his friend behind him. You could tell he was inwardly grappling with the reality that his friend lied to him.
The boy asked what he could do to make it up to us. I pointed to his friend. “You treat him better. He went to bat for you. He stood up for you and believed you. You need to honor and value that relationship more. Outside of what transpired between us, you hurt your friendship today.”
He nodded. He continued to reiterate his apology.
I told him I was appreciative he came over and that it was big of him. Before we closed the door, Marshall added something I wouldn’t have thought to. He said, “All is forgiven.”
The boy’s entire demeanor relaxed. I wondered if he’d ever heard those words from an adult before.
In the words of Tony Robbins, “Conflict arises between two people because they have different rules about something.”
In my normal temperature setting, I would have wanted him to grovel. I would have wanted revenge, to exact karma, to see without a shadow of a doubt that HE KNEW he was WRONG for wronging me.
But this time, I only did the minimum required.
I recognized this was wrong and an unacceptable behavior in our community.
I took photos.
I posted the photos in our Facebook group with a neutral comment, just explaining the facts of what transpired, and asking my community to help me find these guys.
When faced with an upset teen who didn’t want to believe his friend could do this, I stayed confident in what I witnessed and what we collectively heard.
When our neighbor came out very upset that this could happen on her watch, we assured her this was not a reflection on her or her mothering capabilities.
We left the information in her hands to handle further.
When the boy showed up on our doorstep to apologize, I didn’t meet him with the anger I felt for what he said or did. I met him with the hope of understanding deeper what was happening. And by doing that, I saw the situation for what it really was: a scared boy who needed to learn a hard lesson. And I pitied him.
My boyfriend and I spoke at length about what a learning experience this was for everyone involved, and what everyone gained from this interaction.
For the boy who yelled at me and urinated on the wall, it was a lesson that all actions carry consequences, and that you can be both forgiven and unable to make up for a situation simultaneously. He gets to sit with this, grow from this, and move forward a more aware human.
For the boy’s friend, this was a lesson that his childhood friend will not always be honest with him. That realization is shattering for anyone, but for young people especially. As he moves on to college he will learn the power of choosing better friends.
For our neighbor, who clearly wants love and acceptance in the neighborhood, this was a lesson about not attaching her identity to the actions of others. She did everything in her power to make the situation right. She told us over and over again how grateful she was for our compassion.
For Marshall even, there was a lesson. He would be the type of person that would have seen what happened, heard what was said, and let it go, choosing to put his energy elsewhere. But if that had happened, we would have denied ourselves and all parties involved the chance to learn and grow from this. He’s now reframing the importance of conflict after realizing how life-altering this moment was for this boy.
And for me, it was a lesson that I can engage in conflict and put up boundaries that something is wrong, without needing to make the other person wrong. I didn’t need to belittle or bemoan a situation. My ONLY job was to take the steps to draw the line in the sand. I couldn’t control what happened next. But even by releasing that, I gain peace.
I’m not saying all conflict is good, but I AM saying it doesn’t have to be bad.
When you go in with the intention of bringing to light the transgression and releasing the need to control the outcome, beautiful things can happen.
Further, every moment of conflict has a lesson, or multiple lessons, to teach us. Each person involved may receive a different teachable moment, and who are we to deny ourselves and others that growth?
Confidently go forth into conflict knowing that there is much to learn. And if handled from a neutral perspective, there’s much to gain in growing your power.
