Communicate Concretely, with Empathy
The distraught mother appealed to me for help. “She and her children are bullying my children!”
The charge surprised me. The mother’s plea for help came in a dispute over an easement for a farm’s driveway.
As the court-appointed mediator in this property rights disagreement, I expected conflict from the “disputants.” But I was not anticipating charges involving potential harm to children.
I felt my mind reeling. I tried to hide being stunned.
I knew I needed to learn more about this situation — rapidly becoming more complex than a dispute over grading and gravel.
I gathered my senses, managed as compassionate an expression and tone of voice as I know how. Gently, I asked, “What do you mean by bullying?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean?,” she exclaimed. “I told you they’re bullying my children. You’re not listening to me!”
My earnest attempt to improve communication, to clarify, to calm a tense situation backfired. For reasons that will be explained in a moment, my good intentions had an effect in direct opposition to my intentions.
The mother I hoped to calm and reassure became angrier and more suspicious of the legal proceedings in which she was already a reluctant participant.
I blew it.
The good news: This was a training exercise. “Mom” was a fellow colleague taking the mediation certification course as part of the Commonwealth of Virginia’s commitment to Alternative Dispute Resolution.
The bad news: “Mom” really did feel that I wasn’t listening to her when I asked her, “What do you mean by ‘bullying’?”
Such a clarifying question might seem neutral and helpful on the one hand. But on the other, what might it suggest to the person of whom it’s asked? How about: You’re not clear. You’re not making sense. You are confusing me. And so on.
Ouch!
Fortunately, “Mom,” I, and our fellow role players were under the helpful tutelage of mentor mediator Tanya Denckla-Cobb who’s been mediating since 1991, and co-founded the Virginia Natural Resources Leadership Institute where she serves as faculty.
In the debrief following the (fortunately!) successful farm easement mediation (where, yes, we also finally reached clarity and resolution around the “bullying” issue), Tanya offered this wise counsel.
Rather than ask someone an abstract question such as ‘What do you mean?’ which leads to ‘What do you mean what do I mean?!,’ ask for examples.
Humanize the situation.
‘Oh you have children? Tell me about your children….
‘Now, tell about a time when they were bullied. What happened?’
This takes the exchange from the abstract and conceptual to very concrete, specific, and humane.
Eureka! And: of course. Thank you, Tanya! Beautifully put.
In some ways, when you stop to think about it, isn’t it simply amazing that communication — as a fully appreciated exchange of meaning — ever happens?
So much goes against an appreciated exchange of meaning in a complex, diverse society. Everyone comes to a conversation with such different contexts, and often from divergent perspectives and worlds from which their words spring.
As Richard E. Palmer wrote in his classic Hermeneutics book (about interpreting meaning), “we exist in and through” language, “we see through its eyes.”
Language defines our personal world. So when we converse, discuss, or argue with another person literally two worlds intersect. Or collide.
It is whole worlds that each of us brings to a conversation. We speak and listen with our own specific assumptions about the world, our own priorites, values and intentions. Our words, and our interpretations of others’ words, are colored and filtered by our highly indvidualized interpretations of the past, as well as our personal hopes and expectations for the future, along with our fears — some buried deep.
All that enters the exchange of words in any moment, plus whatever interpretations we make of what we see and hear in the present, which of course, won’t be perceived the same way by any two people.
Every communication exchange is deeply layered.
When we ask others for specific, concrete examples of what exactly they are talking about — with compassion and empathy — we increase the odds that our worlds will peacefully intersect, and we increase the chances for shared understanding of meaning.

Monday, February 15, 2010
Even for the best intending of us, it is near impossible to instantly set aside existing personal feelings when trying to assess the behavior of someone we believe we know, as though they were nothing but a mere object to us. (The converse can also challenge us: when we coldly make a decision that will affect others with little or no regard for the human impact of our “business decision.” More on that another time.)