During my senior year of college, I was fortunate to participate in a study abroad program in Italy. Armed with a few years of high school Spanish and a relentless optimism that my sincere curiosity about all things Italian would ingratiate me, it took only the train ride from the airport to strip me of any delusions I had about smoothly integrating into a new culture.
As the train slowed and passengers began to wrangle bags, children, and even dogs from their seats, I awkwardly pulled my enormous hard-shelled Samsonite on wheels from the overhead bin. My focus was on not concussing myself or anyone within arm’s reach with my unwieldy cargo, when it should have been on keeping a firmer grip on it; the luggage slipped from my hand and hit the floor with such force that both a wheel and a latch broke.
Keeping one eye on the human pileup I was creating behind me and the other on my possessions scattered on the train floor, I scooped all that I could and dragged my boulder of a suitcase down the aisle with the angry hiss of “Andiamo!” and hand gestures whose meanings I could only infer coming from the man behind me.
At the time, young and entirely inexperienced in interacting with people whose communication methods were a mystery, I was embarrassed to have made such an unintentionally horrible first impression on a group of people I so wanted to impress with a cool, worldly persona.
You’d think that a lifetime spent teaching English and encountering so many cultures in my classroom and community that I would be far more aware of the ways people communicate, the culture behind that communication, and the growing variations in linguistic expression, but in many ways I’ve not advanced much beyond the teenaged me cleaning up her socks and sweaters from the floor of an Italian train.
I frequently say that words matter. People in my family and my classes are mostly polite enough to roll their eyes discreetly when they hear me say it, but when I go on to say that not only do words matter, but punctuation matters, emojis matter, and tone matters, they tend to respond that I am literally reading way too much into conversational exchanges…until I ask them how they respond when their significant other answers their text with only a thumbs up emoji. Or to tell me how they distinguish among “Okay!,” “K,” and “Okay.” as a response from their significant others. Now, there are always those few who will say it’s not that big a deal, but for the most part I’ll hear answers such as “Oh boy, I know they’re mad when they text ‘okay’ with a period.” No matter if it’s a face to face conversation where body language is a factor, a phone conversation where tone matters, or a text exchange where a single dot of punctuation can convey the temperament of its writer, we know that even when we’re using the same language there can be a world of difference in the ways we do so.
I know, for example, that in texts with my husband that there’s a certain number and color of hearts that come at the end of each exchange. In contrast, I know that my dad has never and likely will never use an emoji, and a one-word response from him should not be interpreted as negative. It’s easy to fling ourselves headlong into a panic spiral if we assume the same rules of conversational engagement are observed by everyone, and we would do ourselves a huge favor to be mindful that they aren’t. For that matter, we would do everyone else a huge favor as well if we were mindful of this.
We’re all so busy, though. And my own opinion is that a lot of times people look for a reason to assume the worst of others. It takes some effort, when a communication hits us wrong, to follow up with the other participant, ask a clarifying question or two, and consider that not everyone uses words, tone, punctuation, or emojis identically. It takes far less emotional energy to react pessimistically to someone leaving us “on read” than it does to apply reason, grant the benefit of doubt, and tell ourselves, “They must be in the middle of something right now, but I’m sure they’ll respond when they’re able.”
Dialogues can advance connections and understanding between people. Or they can drive wedges between us and halt growth. In the coming year I want to remind myself of this truth daily. I can determine how much a person truly wants to know me by how often they make quick assumptions and how often they pause to ask for clarity. When they allow me the opportunity to express myself further and correct any misunderstanding, it tells me that I matter. We can choose to build walls with our words, or we can choose to build cathedrals with them. Each is built one brick at a time, so to speak, and I know which I’d rather have in the end.
PartWolf 