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Headmaster Steve Mckibben's Reflections |
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Public vs. Private Security and Safety My Paper Route Expecting Graduation Children Are Not Your Friends Losing Students Mom and Mommy Arts and Education When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd Milk Connoisseur Sheryl and Dr. Seuss Mandated Reporting Telling the Truth Surrounded by Fiction World of Snow Seeking Wider Audiences Getting Old (or even older) Time as an Absolute Holiday Confusion Resolved Money, Religion, Sex, and Christmas Trees Narratives and Covenants Thanks(you)giving Education and Freakonomics Innovative Student Leadership Humanity Amongst the Horror The Best We Can Do In Praise of Football Efficacy vs. Self-Esteem September 11th Reflections Kindness, Respect, Trust Potential of the Beginning Empty Hallways Mowing My Lawn Laryngitis & Listening Making Mistake after Mistake Hoop Camp Teacher Dreams Fingers Crossed for Graduates Raising High the Flag Multiple Intelligences The Best of Spring Break Vermont Frost Heaves Common Riting Errors Dressing the Part My Mentor Boys, Girls, Students College and Athletes School as Straightjacket? The Shaming of America Good vs. Great Teachers Goodbye To Doc Ideal IV for Family Empty Minds, Empty Calories Observing Classes Servant Leadership First Do No Harm School Choice Hood Hero Homework Literacy Doing Good Respect and Discipline Makings of an Educator Milk of Human Kindness |
Laryngitis and ListeningWhen I woke up one recent morning, I could do no more than whisper. I had lost my voice. It has been awhile since I lost my voice. Every spring, when I began coaching outside, my voice would temporarily go hoarse as I tried to make myself understood to boneheaded adolescent boys intent on doing things their way instead of mine. As I was yelling across the field in those days, I was often reminded of the advice I overheard one of my high school coaches give when talking to a new assistant: "If a boy says he doesn't understand, I repeat what I just told him . . . only a little slower and a little louder." But "slower and louder" doesn't always work. In fact there's an old teacher's trick to quiet a boisterous class: as the class gets louder and louder, you talk quieter and quieter; eventually the class will simmer down enough for you to be heard over the din. Works every time. I was not trying to trick anyone by losing my voice this time - it really is gone - but I have been intrigued by how people have responded. At first they crane their necks forward, a quizzical look on their faces, then they giggle briefly, then they nod in studied condolence, and then they start sympathetically whispering. Their whispers match mine. And I have found that when people whisper, they become much better listeners. Which is exactly what I have become. Spending the last few days walking around whispering, without a real voice, has made me radically more aware of listening to what is said both to me and around me. Not surprisingly, one of the conclusions I've reached is that most people, me included, talk too much; we blather on and on, when often a simple nod and a knowing look would more than suffice. Talking is so easy that some of us do it in our sleep. But listening is a skill that takes a great deal of concentration, and one that most people, me included, don't practice enough. My guess is that we would all be more productive and less self- absorbed if we listened more. Of course, no one can hear me, so it's easy for me to say. Thanks for listening.
--Steve McKibben
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