The art of conversation

At times it seems that the art of conversation has become an ancient relic. A bit dusty and arcane, it is seemingly pushed aside so that we can whip through texts and emails with alacrity and efficiency. Bringing humor — and now animation — to our digital breadcrumbs, emojis remind us what tone we were trying to convey. And yes, I still struggle to text with the fluency that my children use effortlessly. Proper punctuation, complete sentences, and using words like “saunter” are met with hints of embarrassment and not-so-subtle ridicule. (“Dad, no one uses words like that in a text!”) Ageism rears its ugly head!

Last week I watched a group of our Global Scholars pitch their grant ideas for community partnerships in front of several adults from the world of philanthropy. Their presentations were all well done — polished, clear, and compelling. However, what struck me most was not the presentations themselves but the ways in which our students responded to the judges’ questions. They listened carefully, took a moment to consider their responses, and engaged with the questioner candidly. There was no grandstanding nor defensiveness. In their responses, the students made connections between their research and their personal experience. They made us proud.

Last Tuesday at drop-off, a third-grader stopped to say hello. Before I had a chance to ask her if she was ready to learn something today, she said, “Did you see 'A Plastic Ocean' last night?” I told her that unfortunately I had not because of a Poly alumni event, but my wife had seen it. “What did you think?” I asked. “It was amazing, and there were a lot of people there!” she replied. “How is it going to change the way you act?” I inquired. (In our house, we’ve started collecting all of our single-use non-recyclable plastic, for example.) When she paused, I could sense her 9-year-old brain whirring, and then she said with a knowing shrug, “Hmm … maybe leave less trash around on the ground.” And off to class she went. Throughout it all, she looked me in the eye, stood still, and spoke with confidence.

Now I suppose both of these exchanges could have been conducted over email or even through snappy texts, but the learning and the connections would have been diminished. We are so fortunate here at Poly that our community values the art of conversation. And while the texts keep flying, we have taken it upon ourselves to instill the importance of engaging with each other in ways we reveal our humanity through generosity, curiosity, and candor.

JWB