On: Talking

We’ve all heard them, the “jokes”.

God is the best inventor: he took a rib from a man and made a loudspeaker. A guy is stopped for using his mobile phone while driving: “you can’t fine me for being on the phone to my wife”, he says; “I was only listening!” And let’s not forget the “comical” Christmas card entitled ‘Peace on Earth’ where the female members of the Louisiana family were gagged. Hilarious.

Such jokes are commonplace because our society has internalised the myth that females utter more words than males. Research has found that if there is any difference in the number of words spoken between the sexes, it is negligible at best and many studies find that it is men who are more verbose than their female counterparts (after all, the filibuster was invented by a man). Amongst children, there is very little difference in quantity of words uttered after the age of two-and-a-half. Yet numerous self-help and pseudo-science books assert (uncited, of course) that women utter 20,000 words a day compared to a man’s paltry 7,000. The implication is that women are engaged in vacuous, idle gossip whereas men are hard-at-work and simply don’t have the opportunity for such banal pastimes and, should they find themselves at leisure, cannot get a word in edgeways for women’s incessant prattling.

Aside from wasting words on tedious “jokes”, what do such stereotypes mean for those of us who are caring for young people during their formative years? Do these insidious misunderstandings about sex-based differences around communication work their way into our interactions? I think they do, whether we are conscious of them or not.

Thankfully, we are moving away from a culture of actively discouraging boys from talking. The days where we would advise boys to “man up” (used invariably in an exhortation of machismo, despite other uses) rather than to engage in discussion about what they thought or felt, are largely in the rear-view mirror. However, I think we are still guilty of buying into stereotypes about the willingness or ability of boys to talk openly (along with other gender stereotypes that I touch on here). In our interactions with boys, we still often assume that they will be reticent whereas girls are much more open about their emotional responses, and much of the literature on the topic is dedicated to enabling caregivers to help boys to talk. Of course, there will be some boys for whom openness is difficult and I do not discount the reality of cultural pressures on boys not to show emotion or to engage in meaningful dialogue. However, in dealing with the 63 boys in my care, I have come to the conclusion that boys like to talk, too, and I hope I have created an environment in which they all feel comfortable (regardless of their own personalities, experiences or innate tendencies) to open up when it is appropriate for them. If you’re reading this, and wondering how you can create that environment, I suggest that you need three elements.

First of all, I think it’s essential to be a person that boys can trust. It’s a no-brainer, isn’t it? As adults, we don’t share every opinion or sentiment with just anyone: we save our innermost thoughts and feelings for those whom we trust. We are unlikely to find that the children in our care (boys or girls) open up to us immediately if they don’t know us or trust us. It is our responsibility to show them that we can be trusted with the information they disclose to us, and that might take time. When presented with a child who has something that seems to be upsetting them, let’s show them that we are taking them seriously by making time for them; listening to them; engaging with their views on what has happened. Trust develops when the child feels that we have their back and are invested in them, so let’s not be tempted to downplay a boy’s feelings when he expresses them or to ignore his opinions on a subject. If a boy comes to us with a concern or a problem or a worry, and we say that we will discuss it again in a week or a month or whenever is appropriate, let’s make sure we do discuss it. By being consistent in our response to the child, and by doing what we say we will, we will show him that we are to be trusted.

We also need to provide the opportunity for boys to talk. That means that we have to give up time for them when they need it which, in my experience, is invariably at 10.30pm when I am wrapping up my admin for the day and thinking about going to bed! If a boy comes to us, even at inconvenient times, and wants to talk then we must do our best to put aside what we have planned and give over that time to them. If it is impossible to do so, then we should ensure we set aside another time for them and agree with them that we will chat then. Of course, in order to be someone they can trust, we must make sure we really do have that chat later on! In terms of where boys are comfortable talking, I think that is less important than them having the opportunity to do so. I have made my study as homely as possible with a corner settee, soft lighting, and an obscene number of cushions (what would you expect from a female Housemaster?!), and boys feel comfortable being in there. However, boys are just as happy to talk in their own rooms if they feel they are being given the opportunity to open up to a trusted adult.

The final element that I think is important here is normalising talking. Sometimes, boys will come to my study and find me talking with my matron. Instead of sending them away to come back later, we invite them in to the conversation (of course, changing the topic if required!). If I overhear boys complaining about some perceived injustice that has been wrought upon them, I will ask them what they think about it, and we discuss the issue and how they feel. If a boy asks me how I am, I might say “I’m absolutely knackered” rather than churning out the default “I’m fine” response (of course, we must be on our guard against oversharing with children, but showing that it is okay to say you’re not on top form is important if we want them to do likewise). We are fortunate here at school to have an excellent, confidential, counselling service where children can be referred or can self-refer. We make the service known through formal announcements and informal references in conversation and, most importantly, boys who use the service are very open with their peers about doing so. I am thrilled that we have normalised talking in the boarding house to the extent that the boys themselves are living that out with one another. But I don’t think that could have happened if I and other house staff hadn’t proved ourselves trustworthy and opened up opportunities for talking, whilst demonstrating that talking is the most normal thing in the world.

So, boys talk, sometimes for hours (the danger of living out the principle that talking is healthy is that you can kiss goodbye to 11pm bedtimes). Let’s make sure that we are really listening to them.

For now, dear reader, I think I have talked quite enough.