I Never Learn a Thing While I'm Talking

Can't deny the relation.

Anyone who knows us knows that my kids and I are truly cuts of the same cloth. They are constantly told they look like me, they have mannerisms that mimic mine and they even possess the kindness of heart that is indicative of the Maccaroni name. (Unfortunately none of them have yet to realize that they are runners, but there is still time.) Yes, there is no denying their roots and this was recently emphasized once more through a string of e-mails between my two older daughters' teachers and me.

This week, since I had been unable to attend our high school's Back to School Night a few weeks ago, I e-mailed all of my daughters' teachers to introduce myself, express my extreme gratitude for their efforts, and offer my support wherever needed. Toward the end of my e-mail, I implored teachers to let me know if there is ever any concern of any type with my children in their class or anywhere at all. The message I hoped to convey is that we are in this together. I believe that the teachers of my children are my eyes on their day, and it is through this close relationship that we can help my children make the most of these formative school years.

Some teachers did not reply, and that is just fine. They know I am here and they know where to find me if needed. Of the teachers that did reply, the overall theme was evident. My children are quiet. To quote one teacher:

"It is my hope that as she becomes more comfortable, she will talk more in class."

Ha! Good luck with that!  This appears to be just another of the traits that have been passed along to my children, for better or worse.  I am 48 years old and people are still asking me to verbally contribute more at meetings, at professional development and at social gatherings. And it would seem this penchant for quiet has been in my family longer still since one of the things I recall from my father's funeral back in 1985 was his best friend saying:

"Randy never said much, but when he did open his mouth to talk, everyone would stop to listen."

And so this week as the e-mails came in expressing concern over the pensive nature of my children, I was drawn to re-notice the sign I have on my classroom door: my reminder to keep my mouth shut in order to allow others to teach me.

"My first rule of conversation is this: I never learn a thing while I'm talking."

This goes for every situation that involves conversation.  If I need to know what caused a student to behave in a certain way....if I am speaking with a parent about how to best help their child in my class....if I am collaborating with my colleague on best practice....if I am at a book discussion, PD session or lecture....you get the picture. Whenever words are involved, I can only truly learn when I allow others to speak. Yes, it is a give and take, but there are times when being quiet is the best way to contribute to a dialogue.

Perhaps we all need to take a step back and give this some thought...not just for ourselves as adults, but for the children with whom we are blessed to learn.  Perhaps, just maybe, my children and I do need to speak up more. But perhaps, just the same, some teachers and students would benefit from not talking as much. Those who tend to talk the most might benefit from quietly enjoying what others have to contribute. All might benefit from some silence as well, for it is in the silence that we can gather our thoughts and make sense of our world. And in the end, appreciating the contributions, verbal and silence, of each other in this arena of airwaves might help us all to find our voice, learn from one another and create the balance necessary to reap the benefits of a society that listens as much as it talks.