Problem Solving Groups

by Sara Berge, All Day Primary Teacher            

              

  In a classroom of twenty-five self-directed three- to six-year-olds, problems arise constantly. The bakers can’t decide who will crack the single egg the brownie recipe calls for; there are only two places available for working on the patio and three people are trying to reserve them at once; you’re holding a heavy bucket to empty into the sink and the person in front of you is completely absorbed in the soap bubbles. Many such problems would not exist in a traditionally-structured, adult-centered environment simply because the opportunities for them to emerge don’t exist. Social snafus and personal disappointments are hallmarks of the buzzing Montessori classroom. 

            Without the convenience of seeing every little interaction and conflict, it’s true that we adults can’t know every detail about what goes on during the day. At any given moment there are innumerable, rich social interactions taking place, which are impossible to monitor all at once. We give Grace and Courtesy lessons on everything from walking in the classroom, to letting someone on the playground know that you need space from them, provide opportunities for children to practice those skills, and set them loose with a boatload of faith. And the children prove again and again that they are more skillful that we ever imagine. But the problems we do hear about are the ones that aren’t readily resolved by our capable cohorts. 

            Now, to resist the societal norm of imposing our own solutions, which neither gives the children the tools to deal with a similar problem in the future, or feels particularly satisfying to them (you know the faces that stare back at you), we have recently implemented a new approach. Enter the problem solving group. 

            When a child or group of children come to Anne or myself with a grievance, we, channeling Switzerland, calmly observe, “oh, that sounds like a problem, let’s have a problem solving group.”  With little fanfare, all those involved, and two or three neutral parties sit in a circle with a dedicated clipboard. First, we invite the key players to explain their problem. Everyone gets a chance to speak, uninterrupted, and while we may summarize and streamline their sometimes long-winded story that may or may not involve details from a three week old transgression, our mission is to stick to the role of court stenographer. Once the problem is hashed out, we write it down at the top of the clipboard. 

           Now each person in the group is asked to contribute a possible solution. Without giving feedback, we record all possible options for resolution on the clipboard. Not only does this process model writing, but it affirms the legitimacy of the children’s ideas, and fosters collective ownership over the problem. Once the group is out of ideas, we read back over them, explaining the reason for disbarring any that we can’t allow, then ask the involved what solution they’d like to try. 

This process also mimics what happens in our elementary classrooms. As children near the shift to the elementary plane, they are driven to solve problems together. Class meetings take place to place to address issues related to the classroom community, from the mundane details—somebody is sharpening these pencils on both ends—to the larger issues—this group feels left out of this play ground game.

           

            We have been bowled over by how successful this process is. Most of the solutions they choose, while not unreasonable, are ones that we would never have suggested, but are so thoroughly satisfying to them. The group dissolves by thanking everyone for stopping what they were doing to solve this problem, and those so recently frazzled return to their activity with none of the begrudged arm crossing or huffing that may accompany if we had leveled the fix.