Because of my work hours here in the radio biz, I usually have some free time in the afternoons. I’ve been searching for a way to spend that time and realized long ago that a part-time job would keep my mind busy and add to my income. So, I’ve tried a few things. They’ve all given me a look into a few different industries and some have even taught me a valuable skill. But none have been as fulfilling as teaching kids. For the past 4 years, I’ve been teaching an after-school drama program for elementary school children. In the first semester, I teach my students the basics of theater, performing, and voice projection. During the second semester, they learn a play and perform it for their families at the end of the year. But all year long, I’m treated to stories from them before and after class. The story may be about a slug in the parking lot, someone new at the lunch table, or a fight with a best friend. I listen intently to these stories about puppies and bugs and books and school and friends and movies and countless other things that run through their young minds every day. They serve as a constant reminder that we all want to be heard and for our words to matter to someone. It really doesn’t matter if I nod my head or even reply back to them. They watch one thing very closely – my face. They watch my reaction. Their eyes dart intently all over my face to see if I’m listening, if I’ve processed what they tell me and what I think about it. Kids can tell by studying your face whether you are paying attention. Have you ever had a child tap endlessly on your arm to get your attention? A verbal acknowledgement doesn’t stop the tapping. A physical cue to “wait a moment” doesn’t stop the tapping. There’s only one thing that stops the tapping. When you turn your face to look at theirs. That’s when they will use their words – only once your eyes have locked on theirs.
In the broadcasting business, journalists have to be careful with their words. We have to make sure they are fair, clear and accurate. They should leave no room for ambiguity and be presented in a way that doesn’t demonstrate bias. It is much more difficult than you may think. But in reality, we are all journalists. Everyone communicates in some form. We are all trying to get across ideas, proposals, suggestions, and information to other people all the time. We hope they listen to those words. We hope there’s no misinterpretation. We hope to be heard. And we hope that we can tell we are being heard. I spend so much time everyday putting out information, it’s difficult to remember to absorb that that is given to me. We journalists don’t always have the privilege of seeing the faces of those we’re speaking to. But the rest of us often do.
In my part-time work, it’s my job to make sure I’m effectively teaching, but in doing so, I find that I’m learning. I’m picking up valuable habits with kids that adults will appreciate, too, like listening to all of the story before interrupting, and considering if the person needs anything from me in response to their words. A child who feels engaged is a child who gives more. The same is probably true for the rest of us. Communication can’t just be one way – it’s just as much listening as it is talking. Unless you’re a journalist, that is.
