Part II CASES
Chapter 3
TWO RIGHTS CAN MAKE A WRONG!
Finding the Middle Ground
IN ALMOST EVERY CONFLICT, EACH SIDE believes that its cause is just. And this is probably true. Each party usually has something positive to struggle for. The problem is that the various groups have trouble seeing the valid points of the opposition.
If the conflict progresses toward a violent conclusion, this problem in perception becomes increasingly more serious. Each side invariably assumes that the fight was one of good versus evil. When everyone believes this, there is almost no chance to deal with the legitimate concerns on every side. The outcome tends toward "winner" take all. The loser dreams of the day when the roles are reversed. Of course, it is the community at large that is the big loser in this kind of situation.
Thus, when an individual works to head off a violent conflict, he is certainly trying to keep people from being hurt. But also, he is trying to save the valid issues from being lost.
The following incident may demonstrate both the buildup of conflict anger and the process of intervening. At the regular Board of Education open meeting over thirty individuals were scheduled to speak on one topic or another. Alan Cohen, the leader of a group of primary teachers, felt that his group had not been given a fair hearing at previous Board meetings. He believed his group had been deliberately placed near the bottom of the agenda. Thus he got to speak only after most of the audience, including television viewers, had left. Whatever the truth of his charges, on this given night the primary teachers were assigned a very low place on the agenda.
No sooner had the meeting been called to order than Alan Cohen stepped forward and announced his intention of speaking before others took their turns. The chairman of the meeting, Mr. Randolph, answered that the order had been set, and that people would speak in their assigned order.
To the viewers at home, the escalating emotions about who would speak first and who was in charge may have seemed comic. Grown men were beginning to shout, neither side listening to the other's point of view but perceiving, from the tone of voice, that the other side was bound and determined to make trouble.
After about five minutes of threats from the chairman and accusations from the teacher spokesman, the chairman instructed the school security guards to remove Mr. Cohen. At this point, it seemed as though everyone had forgotten that the entire spectacle was being televised and that any one-sided "victory" had to be a loss for the educational process in Philadelphia.
Mr. Cohen, for his part, wanted the "victory" on his side, wanted to get to that microphone and have his way. He was losing sight of the long-range implications of his actions for education in general, or for his group in particular. As the security guards moved in, Mr. Cohen's supporters rallied around a group of about ten women.
The guards retreated, waiting for further instructions. "Remove that man," ordered Mr. Randolph. The guards were about to plow through the human protective circle. It was a hot-line confrontation. People were sure to be injured. Someone had to stop the confrontation so that no one would be injured and so that the legitimate concerns would be dealt with. Because it had reached a point where neither party could or would back off, a third party was required and I stepped forward to talk with Mr. Cohen, right ahead of the poised security guards.
"Alan," I said, "we're building toward a situation that could result in injury. This isn't in the best interest of your cause, is it? What we need to do is look for a way to resolve the impasse rather than escalate it. What are you going to gain by being thrown out?"
"I'm willing to talk to you, Marcus," he said, "but I don't want to talk to you with all these security people surrounding us."
It is clear, of course, that when physical force is summoned to handle people, they cannot be expected to come back all ready for talking. Physical force usually inspires the other side to think (act out) in equally physical terms. So Alan, now wanting to talk, was asking me to create a situation in which he could talk. "That's no problem," I said, and I asked the chief of the security people to step back. He withdrew along with his people.
While this movement of bodies was going on, I stepped back onto the stage and talked quietly with two of the Board members. I suspected that Alan would be demanding some guarantee that his concerns would receive serious attention. I asked these board members if they would be willing to meet with Alan and his people at another time.
"Sure," they said. And they offered a specific date. By the time I got back to Alan, the excitement was dying down. I explained that a good solution would be to have his people meet with the Board privately. This actually turned out to be one of the two demands he had on a sheet of paper from which he had been prepared to speak. "But," he said, "I want this to be made in public."
"I don't see how this is necessary," I said. "There is a newspaperman standing right here taking notes." I didn't want to make a public announcement that would embarrass anyone. Still, Alan was suspicious because, as he saw it, promises made to his group had been broken many times.
I said, "Well, if you don't want to take my word" "No, we don't question your word, Mr. Foster. It's just that we would like to hear it from one of the members of the Board."
One of the members I had talked with then came on down and said he would meet with the teachers' group and guaranteed that the meeting would take place. The Board member did not promise to grant the group's substantial demands, but the commitment to talk was really all Alan was seeking and all he could expect.
Alan nodded his head.
"Now," I continued, "if you want to stay to speak, it is perfectly all right. You can speak when your number, thirty-seven or whatever it is, comes up. But it does seem to me that you have gotten your point across.
"Let me ask my people," he said, and he went around the room conferring with teachers. I tried to give the audience some kind of explanation, but the microphone had been turned off, apparently to keep Alan from using it. Eventually someone announced that an agreement had been reached. People began to return to their seats. In a few minutes the regular business was picked up again.
As noted before, this entire event had been covered by the media which are so adept at catching the action, the anguish, the confusion, and the bitterness. Thus it happened that an acquaintance of mine witnessed the entire happening on the late news show. He later asked me, "Marcus, weren't you overstepping your role as adviser by getting directly involved?"
Yes, perhaps I was, but the risk had been worth it since people might well have been hurt, and since it was clear that polarization was getting out of hand. Naturally, a person can always stay in his seat. But in a crisis situation, that is not necessarily the safest spot. In the present case, there was bound to be some intervention from the police ultimately or from someone who could redirect the energies of all the people. It seemed to me that a personal, understanding sort of intervention would be more effective.
Some people see their sphere of action limited by preordained sets of rules. "Teachers just don't do that," or 'Parents belong in the home." But it may be more useful to see it the other way around-that one's role is defined by what one does.
