Just three weeks ago, this column relayed some ideas about communication. In conjunction with American Speech-Language-Hearing Association’s designation of the month of May as “Better Hearing and Speech Month,” my colleague Mary Droho and I worked on a piece together to discuss the topic.
Part of the article detailed how real communication occurs only when information makes a complete circuit between the message sender and the receiver.
Although I have been a practicing speech-language pathologist for two decades, the humbling experience I had not long after that article was printed left me feeling foolish for ever thinking I might have enough expertise in the area of communication to pass along advice to anyone else. It also left me wondering why it is that although my husband and I both speak English, it seems at times that we don’t understand a word the other is saying. Is it possible we really are from two different planets?
The miscommunications to which I am referring started when we decided to spend a weekend painting our cabin near Kingston. Since our son’s wedding would be taking place there shortly, we figured we should spiff the place up a bit, and painting the exterior walls was one job on the list of things to get done before the big day.
Things started out on the right foot since, over the years, Earl has learned a few tricks that help keep him out of hot water. Naturally, he sent me to pick out the paint colors. That way, he knew I would have no grounds for grumbling at him if I should decide later I didn’t like the colors. With help from the man at the paint mixing counter, I was able to get colors that were just what I wanted - dark brown for the main siding and lighter beige for the trim.
However, not everything went so smoothly. As Earl began painting the main siding with the darker color, I opened the lighter paint color and started on the trim. It was about that time that we apparently stopped speaking the same language and our communication problems appeared.
For starters, what he considered “trim” and what I considered “trim” was not the same thing. After a few failed attempts at straightening this out by talking, we reverted to a simpler, nonverbal means of communication. Instead of discussing which boards we thought should be painted the “trim” color, I simply pointed and he either nodded his head to say “yes” or shook it to say “no.” That worked much better.
Another break in the communication circuit came when my husband - who has never before been color blind - began to say things like, “I think this should be painted the gray color.”
Say what? As mentioned above, the two paint colors I purchased were brown and beige. So what was he calling “gray,” I wondered? He explained that he thought the brown paint actually looked gray. I told him it was definitely brown and supported that by mentioning that the man at the paint store had also called it “brown.”
I further explained that if either color was closer to “gray,” it would be the trim paint rather than the darker color he had on his roller.
Now, we were not only speaking two different languages, but seeing two completely different things.
Knowing some measure of intervention was needed, I came up with a plan and he agreed. We stopped referring to the paint by color name and instead simply called the darker color “your paint” and the lighter color “my paint.” This strategy did the trick and we went about our work without further discussion about paint color or about anything else, for that matter.
Sometimes finding the right method of transmitting and receiving messages to really communicate can take a little work. The effort paid off for us and we managed to get the cabin painted in plenty of time for the wedding.
However, I have decided, from now on, to leave the articles on communication to be written by someone else.
Annette Rowe is a freelance writer and a speech-language pathologist at Siloam Springs High School. She may be reached by e-mail at awalkinthepark50 @ yahoo.com.
Opinion, Pages 5 on 06/16/2010