Three Little Phrases No Literacy Coach Can Live Without
Brenda Power
If there are three skills any literacy coach needs, they are the ability to engage with colleagues, diffuse hostile situations, and connect with people who have a different world view. Engage, diffuse, connect. Three powerful verbs to live by. But there are moments in my professional life when the best word to describe my stance at that moment might be disengaged. Or (emotionally) charged. Or disconnected. I'm human, and I get distracted or too invested in my narrow point of view, or irritated at one of my opinionated co-workers. In those moments, I've learned to pull out these phrases. They are verbal magic, and never fail to get me back on track with colleagues.
"Tell Me More"
This is something I picked up from a friend, to pull out and use when you're in a writing or reading conference with a child and space out for a stretch. I've since learned it works in ANY situation where you're one-on-one, and your mind has drifted away from the conversation. Now, I know that we're not supposed to admit our minds ever drift - as teachers and coaches, we are supposedly focused, sharp, in the moment at all times. But we live in a world full of distractions, and some days (as well as some people) are tougher than others when it comes to tuning in. The instant of panic comes when you resurface, realizing you're in a hallway chatting with Martha, not on that beach in Tahiti, and she is looking at you expectantly for a response. A response to what? You have no clue. If you respond, "Can you tell me more about that?" she will start giving details. You will discovering an amazing thing - part of your mind was focused on what she was saying, even as another part was drifting on that raft off the Tahitian coast. Your mind will quickly start piecing together the conversation through her response, and you'll be back on track for talk. Two kissing cousins to "tell me more" are "explain that to me again" or "give me a few more details."
"You're Right"
I learned the power of this phrase many years ago, when I was leading a large class with the topic of reading and writing across the curriculum. An assistant superintendent would interrupt many of my presentations, just as I was revving up, to interject some hare-brained idea, dead-end tangent, or strident objection to the theory. For weeks, I would stop in my tracks and argue with him. A pall would fall over the room during these awkward exchanges.
One week, I decided to try a different tack. "You're absolutely right," I informed him, and then I pulled the small kernel of truth out of his response, and showed where he and I had common ground. For example, if a colleague says, "Students have to have desks in rows, separated, in order to be able to concentrate on their work," you can respond with, "You're right. Students do need to be able to concentrate and be focused on tasks, and here's why arranging desks in clusters can support that." It's always a good mental exercise to find the grain of truth and common ground with any colleague.
Now don't set up a strawman argument in your head and say, "But what about the colleague who argues it's alright to hit children?" Because I'd argue back that ideas that are that objectionable are rare, if nonexistent, in most conversations with colleagues. The opposite is often true - a surface disagreement stemming from language or personality can obscure common ground and beliefs about learning and literacy. Once I starting agreeing with my adversary, I realized a few of his ideas weren't so hare-brained after all.
"This Must Be Hard for You"
I was taught this phrase by a colleague, who learned it from a therapist friend. It's the one I pull out every time a colleague is angry, or insistent on an action or response I am not able to give. When you can't reschedule the workshop, or provide more books, or cover a class, or dismiss a poor assessment, and the response is white-hot temper or tears, saying "I know this must be hard for you" couldn't be more disarming. It shows empathy and is supportive of the person, even if you can't support the action or give the response they want in that particular situation. It diffuses the anger immediately, because the person is confused. Instead of continuing a machine-gun fire of objections or arguments, they must stop for a moment, and try to figure out what has just happened: "Wait a minute - she is being sympathetic and supportive. But hey! She isn't really being sympathetic and supportive, because she's not giving me what I want. What is going on?!" As the wheels turn in your colleague's head, it's a good time to exit the conversation. I try to hang up the phone or leave the room as soon as possible after expressing sympathy for how hard the situation must be. Once the person figures out you aren't going to go along with their request or point of view, it's better for them to see you have already moved along. You can hope they will, too.
There you have it - the trade secret of "three little phrases" that have saved me in more conversations, workshops, and relationships than I care to count over the years. I hope they also get you out of some sticky ones in the future.
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