By Marcus Hardy

“I don’t like confrontation” is a phrase that many of us have said at one point or another. There is a common aversion to conflict rooted deeply in cultures valuing respect, decorum, and politeness. This isn’t a critique but an observation, a recognition of the social scripts that guide us from an early age and imply that it’s probably best to avoid discord at all costs. We’re taught to hold our tongues, respect authority—often unquestioningly—and let grievances slide off our backs. It’s a conditioning that inadvertently stymies the ability to understand and positively navigate the many confrontations that life throws our way.

It also might give credence to the notion that “you know what, some people are good at that, I’m just not.”

The belief in the existence of confrontation enthusiasts—who were jokingly referred to as “Homoconfrutatianus,” at the recent Suzuki Association of Utah’s annual convention—also stems from this same, underlying aversion to confrontation. These are the imagined titans of argument who are always the last ones standing, unfazed by the prospect of conflict. They’re that big, fast-developing kid on the dodgeball court who always seems to win. They’re your boss. They’re your stubborn teen string player. Or that student that you just can’t seem to break through to (or break up with).

Confrontation, especially in the context of meaningful relationships and professional interactions, is not about winning or showing dominance but about understanding, resolving, and moving forward. The key to transforming confrontation from a dreaded dodgeball match into a constructive dialogue lies in preparation, strategy, and empathy.

The Dodgeball Arena: The Dynamics of Confrontation

Imagine a dodgeball game. You are on one side, and the person you need to confront is on the other. The dodgeball represents the issue at hand—tangible, potentially painful, and something you’d rather not face (or get hit in the face with). The instinct to either dodge it or throw it as hard as you can parallels our responses to conflict: avoidance or aggression. However, neither approach effectively resolves the underlying issue; they merely postpone or escalate it.

In this metaphorical game, success comes not from eliminating the opponent but from engaging them in such a way that the game ends with mutual respect and understanding. This requires seeing past the Homoconfrutatianus myth—the belief that some are naturally equipped to thrive in confrontation. In truth, effective communication, especially in difficult conversations, is a skill developed through practice, reflection, and most importantly, preparation.

Preparation: The A.M.P. Approach to Confrontation

Anticipate, Message, Practice (A.M.P.): This framework is helpful in preparing for and navigating tough conversations.

It begins with anticipation: understanding the possible directions a conversation could take and preparing for them. This involves acknowledging your own emotions and potential biases, as well as considering the perspective and possible reactions of the other party. When training business and other executives on this approach, I strongly suggest that when preparing for a difficult conversation they inject some Suzuki best practice into the mix: get tangible and physical. Write down your thoughts, ideas, hesitations, and even frustrations at length. Think about what might go well, what might go bad, and be willing to be completely honest with yourself as you do so. Make real, earnest space for preparation.

Example: My Student isn’t Practicing

In the scenario of a student who is not practicing, the teacher might begin by anticipating the various reasons behind the student’s apparent lack of practice. A common assumption might be that the student is over-scheduled with other activities. However, by considering other possibilities, such as the student feeling demotivated due to a lack of visible progress, the teacher can prepare to address this issue more effectively. This stage involves the teacher reflecting on signs of frustration or disinterest during lessons, which might indicate the student’s true feelings. Understanding these cues helps the teacher prepare a more empathetic and targeted approach to the conversation.

Next is developing messaging: distilling what you want to say into clear, concise, and empathetic communication. This is what sets apart a good, productive communication from a regular or ineffective one. This step is about refining your message to ensure it is received as intended, stripping away any elements that could be construed as accusatory or confrontational in nature, but also stripping down what you want to convey in as clear a way as you possibly can.

Example: My Student isn’t Practicing

Once the teacher has anticipated the possible underlying issues, then create tight, deliberate messages. This message should be clear, supportive, and free from assumptions about the student’s time management or priorities. For example, the teacher might say:

1. "I’ve noticed you seem a bit disheartened during our lessons.

2. Can we talk about what you’re experiencing and see how we can adjust our approach to make learning more rewarding for you?"

This pairing of messages is designed to open up a dialogue, showing the student that their feelings are valid and that the teacher is there to support their learning journey.

Finally, practice: rehearsal is not just about what you plan to say but how you say it. Tone, body language, and timing all play critical roles in how your message is received. Practicing out loud can help you refine your delivery to be more effective and less confrontational. Saying words aloud also gives you perspective that you don’t get from simply considering messages and words in your head. Even better—practice with someone you trust enough to call you out on things that might be taken the wrong way or that are counterproductive. This should be a close friend, spouse, or another individual who cares about your success.

Example: My Student isn’t Practicing

The final step involves the teacher preparing for how this conversation might unfold. This includes planning how to respond to possible reactions from the student—whether it be relief, denial, or even indifference. The teacher should practice delivering the message with empathy and patience, up to and including role-playing to refine their approach. Preparation also means being ready to offer practical solutions, such as setting smaller, more achievable goals for the student or incorporating new learning techniques that might rekindle their interest in their instrument. This step ensures that the teacher is not just prepared to talk but also to listen and adapt based on the student’s feedback.

Navigating the Court: Execution with Empathy

Armed with preparation, the actual conversation requires a balanced approach of assertiveness and empathy. Understanding the other person’s perspective is crucial, as is expressing your thoughts and feelings without assigning blame or making assumptions. This is where the metaphorical game diverges from actual dodgeball: the goal is not to win but to reach a resolution that respects both parties’ needs and boundaries. It often takes more than one conversation, and you aren’t likely to fully convince the other party of your views.

In reality, all of our brains are hardwired to avoid danger, discomfort, and confrontation, making the skill of managing tough dialogues not an innate trait but one that must be consciously developed and honed. Doing so allows us to enter the dodgeball court with a different outlook. Once we learn that the court of conflict is not an arena for winning/losing, but a space for resolution and understanding, the outcome will be different. And while doing the hard work of preparing adds complexity and requires time, it’s a pattern not at all unfamiliar to musicians and those who support them.

Marcus Hardy

Marcus Hardy

Marcus Hardy is a communications professional that has worked in both New York City and Utah. He specializes in crisis and executive communications (fancy comms speak for helping people play nicely together). He’s a Suzuki Dad, is married to a Suzuki cello teacher, and knows the repertoire almost by heart —including his favorite, Squire’s Tarantella Op. 23. He is a graduate of both BYU and the University of Utah.