The Missing Piece

A few months ago my teenager invited a friend for a sleepover. Unfortunately, in the evening the boys managed to turn my son’s room into a pigsty, damaged a window screen, and broke a few basic house rules to boot. We decided to call the sleepover off and I brought the boy back to his house. I thought I owed the mom an explanation for the sudden change of plans, so I briefly described what the boys had done. I didn’t ask for an apology, I didn’t make any accusations, and didn’t offer any parenting advice. What I got in return though was a defensive reaction of a protective parent.

I was stumped. I really had no idea how and why the conversation took such an unexpected turn. I came in peace, so why did she treat me as if I came to attack her. Was it my body language? Was it my tone? Did I not do enough small talk? I decided to ponder the puzzle with a fellow coach. Coincidentally, he had recently quit a job in the customer service and he had some insight.

Based on his experience, there were two types of callers: direct and indirect communicators. The first type was a dream to deal with. They said immediately what they wanted. The latter type, instead of saying what they wanted, tried to describe the problem. According to the coach, it was never possible to fully gauge what the person expected to hear and the customer never seemed to be satisfied with the offered solution. It was the type that contributed to the coach leaving his job.

That was my "aha" moment. I was clearly the second type of callers. Uncomfortable with the thorny topic, I resorted to simply describing the context, hoping that the person I was dealing with would see it for what it was.

And that’s where the flaws of my thinking came to light. Not only did I want others to see the problem for what it was, but I wanted them to see it from my perspective, which was an impossibility. My perspective was just that: my perspective. They would see it from their point of view and through their own filters, which meant they would have no idea what I wanted from them, and whether I came in peace or at war. It was only natural they would be on guard and defensive.

So that’s how I found the missing piece of my communication puzzle: In uncomfortable situations, I was too indirect. I would have been more successful in my communication with the fellow mom, and perhaps earned her empathy, if I had clearly stated that I had come to her because I was seeking understanding of my decision to cancel the sleepover. Regardless of the subject matter and discomfort, it is important to tell people why we are talking to them and what we want/ don’t want from them. They can’t read our minds.