The Art of Listening Well

This past weekend my family celebrated the life of my grandmother Elaine Mishler.  In our conversations and reflections I began to realize that schools and education reformers alike could learn a lot from listening to people like my grandmother.  Seemingly, that was her gift she was a phenomenal listener.  She always wanted to know how you were doing and what she could do to help.  It was never, you should do this or you should do that rather it was a “ I am proud of you.” 

I think this level of humility is rarely seen in our communities today and I think it is noteworthy.  My grandmother was a genuinely curious person who sincerely wanted to know how people were and instead of trying to multi-task or listen second hand or send an email, she stopped and she listened.  She made people feel like they were known.  Needless to say though, this is not the first time I have stumbled upon this same message the last couple of weeks.

In my journeys to Texas we asked several school leaders why some kids who were on the border of making it why they thought they stuck it in and it always came back to the student feeling known.  Whether it was a relationship with a teacher, a coach or administrator - the student preserved because they felt like they were known.  This simple fact should not be overlooked.

Relationships are essential to effective schools and even though we may respond in text, tweet or email, I don’t think you can overstate the importance of real communication.  There is something that is incredibly powerful about putting everything down (cell phones, laptops, tvs, etc.) and just listening because you genuinely care about the other person.  Often times I feel like we make this act seem like a hassle.  It requires a great effort to put away our other daily distractions and genuinely listen.  It is this attitude that gets in the way of effective communication and making someone feel like they are known. 

Put down the remote, turn off the cell phone, hibernate the laptop and just listen.  It is not a chore; it is an opportunity to show someone you genuinely care.  This is the gift my grandmother had and something I will never forget.

 From: Chris in Michigan