Yes, speaking. And, listening.
How to discern when to speak out and when to listen in, because our world needs people who can do both.
“There are moments when we should speak up, and moments when we should sit back and listen. Knowing the difference is critical.”
Recently, in a conversation among my teammates and I on what we’ve learned during our national officer year, Artha said these words and I was reminded of a moment in my own life four years earlier. While I’ve continued to learn the same lesson many times over, it was the beginning of the journey.
It’s the summer between my junior and senior years of high school. I’m sitting on a charter bus somewhere between Washington, D.C. and Decatur, Illinois, (Ohio, maybe?) and I join a conversation that will fundamentally change how I think about my role in leadership. I’m just starting my year as a section president for FFA, but I have no expectation of becoming a state officer. Yet.
As a group of us section presidents and state officers talk about what the future of our organization will look like, I sit back and listen. I’m more comfortable listening, anyway, since speaking up is taking the risk of people not liking what you say. That risk scares me. Even so, the conversation sparks some opinions within me; I start to wordsmith my idea in my head so that when I do take the leap and start talking, I’ll sound intelligent and confident. I wait for the perfect moment to jump in with my thoughts, I open my mouth to speak, and… someone else starts talking. I quickly close my mouth and mentally retreat. No one even noticed that I had something to say. Or, so I thought.
Does speaking up intimidate you? Often it doesn’t seem worth the risk, even if what we have to say isn’t that controversial. People might think we’re wrong, or don’t know what we’re talking about, or awkward, or anything on a whole list of adjectives we don’t want used to describe us. My natural tendency for most of my life has been to stay quiet because of these things. I’ve become more assertive as time goes on, but even now I can be hesitant to speak. What I’ve begun to realize, though, is a failure to speak can be a failure to add value.
How do we know when to speak up?
I think we can use a couple filters to help us.
Why do I want to say something?
If we have a desire to speak simply so people notice us, but with nothing actually valuable to say, it’s probably best to stay quiet. When we talk just to talk we reduce our credibility when we do have something substantive to say. Similar to the “boy who cried wolf” scenario, it’s best to treat our words with the gravity they deserve. If we have something meaningful to say, let’s not hesitate to say it with conviction. Don’t dilute your influence by adding words simply to sound important, but don’t devalue yourself by failing to step up when there’s a worthwhile thought to be shared.
Am I adding new value to this conversation?
If what you want to say has already been said by someone else, don’t try to one-up them by saying it better. Show support by saying how or why you agree with another voice, but don’t just talk in circles. I am guilty of this myself—I will happily add a whole paragraph of what I think but often I’m poorly rephrasing others’ worthwhile thoughts. I’m learning how to show my agreement concisely and without stealing someone’s thunder. Concur, but don’t convolute.
Sometimes, we’ll have a thought to share that is genuinely new, different, or will help our audience to think in a new or different way. Those are where we add the most value; it may be most intimidating to say something that hasn’t been said already, but that’s precisely why we should say it.
Active listening > simply not speaking
There is a difference between not speaking and actively listening. This is where my friend Dalton shows up in the charter bus story.
As the conversation comes to a close, we each make our way back to our original seats; we’re somewhere in Indiana now. Before I can head to the back of the bus, Dalton stops me. He’s one of the state officers, all of whom I look up to (and whose role I believe I could never fill).
“Miriam, I noticed you got cut off earlier. What were you going to say? Your opinion is valuable to me.”
What?? A state officer wants to hear what I think? I had never had someone not only notice I got cut off, but then do something about it. In the aisle of this bus barreling down I-70W, it hit me: leadership is less about being noticed and more about noticing other people. The reason Dalton noticed me? He was actively listening.
In those moments we determine are not for our voice to fill,
here are a couple ways we can actively listen to other voices:
React to the current speaker with body language.
Have you ever told a joke and all you see is stone cold faces staring back? It takes our confidence down more than a notch or two when our audience doesn’t appear to be engaged. Nod, smile, laugh; react in a genuine way but give the speaker a reflection of how their words are landing with you.
Pay attention to everyone in the conversation, not just the loud ones.
Be the Dalton in the room who notices when someone starts to say something. If you get the chance, make sure they’re noticed in the moment; otherwise, be sure to ask them later on if they had more to share. I don’t recall what I wanted to say that day on the charter bus; what I do remember is that Dalton cared enough to ask. Be that person for someone else today.
Knowing the difference between the moment to speak and the moment to listen isn’t just about that moment itself; it could change the trajectory of someone’s life. I didn’t believe that introverts could be good officers until that day, because Dalton exemplified the type of leadership I could see myself in. I don’t know if I would be here but for that moment. It seemed like a small moment to him; he probably doesn’t even remember it. I do. That’s why it’s big.
Speaking up can be intimidating; listening intently can seem like a lot of effort. Let’s not let these things stop us. Any moment we find ourselves with other people is a chance to exercise this type of discernment. In a class discussion? Out with friends? Participating in a committee meeting? Eating dinner with family? These are all places where we can learn to balance speaking and listening. My teammate Artha is absolutely correct: knowing the difference between those moments is critical. The world needs the meaningful words that you, and only you, have to share, and it needs you to be willing to listen to the words that only others can share.
Where do you need to exercise this balance in your life? Share your thoughts in the comments below or tag me on social media at @nffaevp and @miriamrosah and use the hashtags #EmbracingComplexity and #FFA21.