What’s your name, cabrón?

A practical example of conflict transformation in action, courtesy of Greg Boyle:

(Setting: Kid walks up to Father Boyle after mass at a juvenile detention camp)

Greg: “What’s your name”

Kid: “SNIPER”

Greg: “Come on, dog, what’s your name?”

Kid: “Gonzalez”

Greg: “Okay now, son. I know the staff here calls you by your last name. I’m not down with that. What’s your mom call you?”

Kid: “Cabrón”

(Translation: Bastard!)

Greg: “I’m looking for birth certificate here”

The kid softens. I can tell it’s happening. But there is embarrassment and a newfound vulnerability.

Kid: “Napoleón”

Greg: “That’s a fine, noble, historical name. But I’m almost positive that when your mom calls you, she doesn’t use that. What’s your mom call you?”

Then I watch him go to some far, distant place — a location he has not visited in some time. His voice, body language, and whole being are taking on a new shape — right before my eyes.

Kid: “Sometimes, when my mom’s not mad at me…. she calls me… Napito.”

I watched this kid move, transformed, from Sniper to Gonzalez to Cabrón to Napoleón to Napito.

We all just want to be called by the name our mom uses when she’s not pissed off at us.

(Adapted from Tattoos on the Heart)