I’ve always been a talker. Although I am an introvert by nature, I’m an introvert with a lot to say. Anyone who has sat under the teaching of my mom has heard the story of me and the grandfather clock. I know this because, my entire adult life, I have met people who respond to my introduction by saying, “Oh, you’re the one who had to stand in front of the clock!”
Context: I am a third child with two older brothers, one of whom has plenty to say himself (sorry, but it must be said!). I was four when my middle brother started Kindergarten, leaving me with the house – and my mom – to myself. After a few days of crying into my snack plate in front of Mister Rogers, it hit me. There was no one to compete with. I could say anything I wanted, any time, and no one could interrupt me. Argue with me. Override me. It was Go Time, and go I did.
My poor mother, who took homemaking very seriously and had much to accomplish, quickly ran out of patience as I followed her from room to room, pattering away. She took me to the grandfather clock and stood me in front. Pointing at the face way up high, she told me, “This is the big hand, and this is the little hand. When the big hand gets to the 2, you can talk again.” (Before everyone fires off judgment about my mom, it was maybe five minutes, and I don’t blame her – I’ve done the same thing to MYSELF from time to time!)
As the story goes, I stood perfectly still facing the clock, hands clasped behind me, my gaze on the clock face never wavering. The moment the big hand hit the 2, I was off and running…chatter chatter chatter. But according to my mom, a stay-at-home wife and mom in the 70’s living in a new place and still somewhat isolated, it was five minutes of heaven.
So, for more than 40 years, I’ve been famous for talking. Again, I am an introvert so I wasn’t one who would talk to a wall, but in my circle of comfort, nobody could beat me for talking. But as I grew up, something became very clear to me.
Talking and conversation are two very different things.
I have spent a great deal of my adult life purposefully trying to learn the art of conversation. It’s not rocket science, but it can be hard to do. I started this blog originally, years ago, because I tend to end up in very interesting conversations and I didn’t really have anywhere to put that. The reason I fall into these conversations is that I’m not afraid to talk about anything, with the right prompt and the right person.
I feel that conversation, as a daily art, has taken a real hit over the last few years. Digital conversation has opened so many doors of dialogue, but one of the unintended side effects is our inability to have a live, in-person conversation effectively. I was thinking about the art of conversation this week because someone I’ve known for a relatively short time was asking me why I’m in fundraising when I hate selling. It’s a common question for someone outside the philanthropy field, because there is a perception that development is selling. To me, fundraising is just a conversation about opportunity, and that conversation requires skill.
I think there are people who are, by nature, sparkling conversationalists. They are witty and thoughtful by turns, and it seems effortless. For the rest of us, it’s a good idea to keep a couple of methods tucked in the back pocket and put into practice whenever necessary. Time and trial has given me two strong concepts that serve me well when I am wise enough to use them – listen and ask.
This order – listen and ask – is very deliberate. To implement ask and listen is to essentially turn a conversation into an interview. Ultimately, that ends up one-sided, and the other participant(s) will walk away feeling vaguely disconnected. When you are raising support, that’s an obvious problem, but it’s just as much of a drawback when you are building a relationship or trying to get something done. So, I stick with listen and ask. Again, this is not rocket science, but I think the state of conversation in our world today affirms that knowing something and doing it are two very different things!
Listen. My husband works with someone whose mastery of this concept has greatly influenced my treatment of important conversations, particularly those that are difficult or potentially emotional or contentious. In one of their first meetings together, Ryan noticed that his partner said very little and allowed the other people to talk. Even when faced with comments that perhaps would inspire a rise to defense, he generally stays quiet. LISTEN has a huge effect on both positive and negative conversation. In a positive environment, to listen is to affirm to your conversation cohort that you are a safe space for them to authentically participate and be vulnerable. Does that sound a bit precious? Yes, it does, and some conversations never reach any significant depth. However, I like to keep options open, because you never know when a fairly shallow conversation can take a dive toward something more meaningful. When people feel heard, they tend to invest more in the conversation, and in turn the relationship. And what is life, if not an array of relationships?
In a negative or potentially contentious conversation, to listen is to facilitate one of two excellent outcomes: other people eventually move past a venting/emotional phase into a more receptive frame of mind (hence turning the conversation from a negative to a positive), OR, honestly, other people bury themselves. I had a recent opportunity to enter a negative conversation and very quickly realized that moving it to a positive was simply not going to happen. So I chose to channel Ryan’s partner. By listening and NOT TALKING except when necessary, even in defense of myself and my own viewpoint, I was able to exit the conversation with integrity intact and no regrets. And the other person in the conversation was revealed.
(Of course, anyone who has spent time in effective debate knows that listening is a tool for effective argument. You have to know what you are debating, and you will only really learn that through listening.)
Ask. Sometimes conversation flows easily and naturally. Sometimes it is awkward and bulky! When this happens, you can choose to gracefully exit and move on. Except when you can’t. Perhaps it is a professional connect that I have to cultivate. Perhaps it’s a new family member with whom I need to form some basis for amenable relationship. Or perhaps it’s someone who doesn’t feel comfortable enough with me to invest. That’s when ASK can come into play. Uncomfortable or unnatural break? Ask a question. No one knows everything about anyone. There is ALWAYS something you can ask. I have developed this mindset firsthand in my own home. For years, one of my children had a tendency to make very unusual statements with zero context or background. I quickly learned to ask a follow up question, and when I did, it was amazing what I learned and where the conversation moved. So I naturally developed this habit and have taken it to the outside world, with great results. Again – I’m not talking about interviewing people, firing questions until they have that deer in the headlight look (my degree is Broadcast Journalism, so believe me when I tell you I could do that in a heartbeat). But ASK can be a great tool for conversations, both pleasant and challenging. Misunderstanding can kill a conversation; a well-placed question can rescue not only a conversation but a relationship.
Developing the art of conversation is an ongoing journey, and I don’t believe we ever arrive. I still struggle with being a talker, and as I mentioned parenthetically above, I still stand myself in front of the invisible clock. But I like to think that I am gaining ground in professional and personal maturity. Doing so results in better conversation, which leads to better relationships, which culminates in a better life.