"WOW!" after having used a game adapted from the No-Fault Zone. (an NVC-based conflict resolution tool developped by Sura Hart and Victoria Kindle-Hodson)

"I'm hapy because now I know what to do if I have a problem."

"Now I know that problems can be solved without blame."

“The workshop has definitely helped me to communicate better with my children, helping them to feel safer to express themselves with me! It is wonderful!”

“I came in wanting a way to better control my children’s behaviour and I’m leaving wanting to work on myself and wanting more connection with them.”

“I feel empowered to help others meet my need for understanding by clearly stating my feelings and needs. I also feel empowered to develop strategies to meet my own needs.”

"I am leaving today with a huge burden uplifted. I understand that this is not just another tool I have to be perfect at."




“I would like here to express again my deepest thanks for what you gave me. I will remember my whole life what empathy means thanks to you, thanks to the so particular energy you could give me. As Marshall says, the map is not the territory, and similarly it is difficult to describe with words what I could feel through you. You have a gift that is very precious, and I hope you will be able to share it with other people.”

“NonViolent Communication is, in my opinion, a tool that is as essential to learning as the pencil we put in the child’s hand so he can learn to write. Essential if we want our youth to develop their social abilities and our world to be a better place to live.”
Principal, Sutton School

“I now have a deeper connection with co-workers and a better understanding of how we each see things differently. I’m leaving feeling positive and grateful for the experience.”
Teacher, Sutton School

"My challenging class is my seventh grade, particularly one student. My biggest question is what is it that he/they need. I went into work on Monday and was able to interact with him and the rest of his classmates from a place of calm and a place of caring. I used observation, feelings, needs, and requests. The class responded in an amazingly cooperative way. Today one of the students in the class came to me after school and asked me if I would listen to a poem that he had written. I was surprised but agreed. He sat down and read me a three page rap that he had written to me telling me about who he was. It was heart wrenching to hear, but his message was loud and clear: "Don't judge me for the way I look or how I act sometime. There is so much going on inside of me that no one can see or know." I was almost speechless when he finished. What he said was so HUGE. I went for the feeling, "I feel honored that you shared this with me." From there we talked some. I'm quite worried about him, but at least a door has been opened. I feel that my compassionate way of communicating with his class in the past two days opened that door. I'm humbled by this experience."
Theresa, teacher, 5th grade

"I’ve been using some of the empathetic response strategies I was reading a little about (e.g., "I'm guessing that you're feeling pretty upset right now" ... "Would you like to find a time when we could talk about what happened, later?"), rather than my traditional directives (e.g., "I need you to begin working on the assignment in the next few minutes, or I'll have you work on it with me during recess"). I'm happy to report that, on several occasions, that simple strategy of reflecting back in words what I'm seeing/interpreting from a child's body language seems to free her up to move on, out of a stuck place, and to be able to talk, or simply to re-engage in the class activity. Aha!"
Dell, teacher, 4th grade

"Another interesting effect of practicing this is it slows my reaction/response time down because I'm working to figure out exactly what I'm feeling, what need isn't being met, and what my request it. That makes me less likely to respond impulsively out of some angry emotional place. Great, huh?"
Revell, teacher, middle school

Children's workshop in Thailand


“Oh this is gonna break your heart,” Nao says as she prepares to translate for me what one of the young girls has just shared. “She says she is grateful for all that Whispering Seed has done for her and for learning giraffe language and hopes you will never forget all of them.” And that’s when I begin to cry tears that are so touched by all that is contained in what this young girl has just said.

We are in the final activity of a PEACEfull Communication workshop which I am leading at Whispering Seed, a children’s home and community center in Thailand. These girls and two boys who have come to Thailand with their families to escape the violence and oppression of the military government in Burma. This is quite possibly the first time in their lives they have been given the opportunity and support necessary for them to be bale to express their gratitude. It took Nao and I trying in several explanations for them to understand what we were asking of them. But once they understood, the words flowed on the paper like the river in the rainy season. Our Chain of Gratitude was full and some participants asked for another piece of paper in order to write everything they were grateful for.

How could I ever forget them? We shared an unforgettable afternoon of trust and vulnerability.It began when I shared something that had happened that morning. A young man had approached the kitchen of Whispering Seed holding a large gun, half trying to hide it behind his back. I could tell by the way the plastic shone in the sun that the gun wasn’t real but all the same, I felt my heart become agitated and knew I had to intervene. I shared with the participants that I felt very nervous, sad and angry. I was sad because I so deeply wished that young men would prize instruments or paint brushes or pencils – weapons that can transmit all that is most beautiful in them – rather than guns. And then I shared that I felt nervous and angry because I thought: “Hasn’t he learned? How many mothers have to get shot the way Pon was two weeks ago in this very place before people understand? And will they ever understand?”

We had all been affected by the shooting. All the young people in the workshop knew about the shooting and some were particularly close to Pon. Her two oldest daughters were with us this afternoon and just after she was shot by her husband, I had held Pon in my arms administering first aid with my partner, Remi and then carried her out to the road to get her to the hospital. She survived with an injured arm and a sewn up hole in her stomach. Bloody miracle, I think.

I ended my sharing by saying that I needed hope that people around the world are growing in their commitment to peace. I added that especially given that I knew the Thai military came into the village regularly to train young boys to use guns and then left the weapons in their community, I added that I also really needed safety for those here whom I had come to care for very much, including all of them. Then there was silence and I asked them if they wanted to share anything that was coming up for them after hearing what I had to say.

One after another, like flowers unfolding in the sun, they decided to trust enough to open up. “I want to be a mediator with people in my village.” “I wish Pon’s family was together again.” I want to offer encouragement to Pon. I will pray for her.” Then I asked, “Do you think it would be helpful for her to know all that you are saying?” And they answered, “Yes. Let’s tell her.” So these brave you g people wrote letters to Pon expressing their deepest wishes of peace, forgiveness and healing for her. In her gratitude, Potsela, Pon’s eldest daughter expressed her thanks for all the support we all had shown her mom.

I imagine we all made history together that day – expressing gratitude and as a group, with others watching, offering words of comfort and support to someone in need, if not for that village, then for those young people making a conscious choice in that moment to of how they want to be in the world. They bring me hope and that afternoon has brought yet more meaning to my presence here on Earth.

The No Blame Game is a game board played with a deck of cards - cards with feelings and needs vocabulary written on them. The goal of the No-Fault Zone is to create a safe place where everyone can be listened to, everyone can express how they felt and what they need, and conflicts can be resolved. No punishments, no consequences because no one really did anything wrong. We are all simply choosing strategies to get our needs met and sometimes, those strategies don't work for others. With this attitude, we aren't cutting ourselves off from others by our judgements about right and wrong. This makes real healing, through understanding and compassion, possible. The No- Blame Game is adapted from the No-Fault Zone, a game developped by Sura Hart and Victoria Kindle-Hodson (see useful links).



Leonard's parents had a hard time getting along so they separated and Leonard now sees his Dad one week a year. Last year, his visit with his dad was cut short because his dad and his mom got into an argument. After using the No-Fault Zone to express his sadness about his family's situation, he decided it might be a good idea to make his own No-Blame Game, with feelings and needs cards to go with it, to take with him on his next visit to see his dad. His friend Darren offered to help him.

Jeremy had been denying what he had said to Vanessa and Maude. Up until the time I invited him to come to the No-Fault Zone. The girls expressed how they felt after he had said that their art project was ugly. They said they would have enjoyed his help to make it better instead of his criticism. They also said they needed respect for what they had created in order to protect their self-esteem. Jeremy 's face softened when he heard this. I asked him if he wanted to change anything in the story. (I wanted to know if he agreed with their version or wanted to make some amendments with his version of the story.) But Jeremy said, yes, I wouldn't do that again. That's when we understood that Jeremy was feeling genuine regret and that's what he said with his cards. I asked him, "What made you want to tell the truth this time?" He agreed that it was the reassurance that he would be safe in the No-Fault Zone, that he would not get into trouble nor be punished. In the end, the girls didn't even have a request really. They were just satisfied that they had been genuinely heard.