Klingbrief

In his new book, Supercommunicators: How to Unlock the Secret Language of Connection, author Charles Duhigg offers comprehensible frameworks and sticky phrases to guide us to better conversations regardless of setting. Building on the strong foundation of Aristotle’s rhetorical triangle and more recent publications such as Stone, Patton, and Heen’s Difficult Conversations: How to Discuss What Matters Most, Duhigg identifies just three questions that all our exchanges essentially seek to answer: What’s this really about? How do we feel? Who are we? Better still, to engage successfully in these inquiries, Duhigg asserts that we need only three competencies: the ability to make decisions, the ability to understand emotions, and the ability to recognize who we and others are. In dialogue, he says, our questions of one another can also easily be adapted to allow for deeper connection: for example, instead of asking where someone attended high school or where someone is from, try “What advice would you give a high schooler?” or “What’s the best thing about where you grew up?” And, when in a conflict, we are wise to focus on controlling ourselves, our environment, and the discussion boundaries rather than the person with whom we are speaking. In Duhigg’s optimistic estimation, supercommunication is an achievable skill for anyone willing to bring a level of intentionality to their conversations, to think “harder about how conversations unfold, why they succeed or fail, and the nearly infinite number of choices that each dialogue offers that can bring us closer together or push us apart.”

Marc Watkins’ Rhetorica Substack has become an essential read for educators and school leaders navigating the challenges and opportunities of generative AI. In this recent post, Watkins examines the world of “AI Influencers – where the pursuit of profit drives companies to use influencers as direct conduits to push their products onto students.” Wherever one falls on the AI enthusiasm/dread spectrum, understanding the ways that these services are being marketed and framed for students is essential for helping schools manage them. It is undoubtedly the case that students are seeing these tools marketed to them on TikTok and other social media platforms. Watkins also loops in some analysis of the ways that teacher influencers are framing the conversation in educator social media circles, highlighting how social media discourse can flatten the nuances of generative AI use in the classroom. In line with his overall approach to the AI conversation, Watkins concludes by inviting us into the deeper considerations that this technology forces us to ask, namely “why we teach and the core reasons we hope students arrive on our campuses ready and eager to learn.”

A child psychiatrist, parent psychologist, and child psychotherapist collaborate on this “parenting playbook for the age of adaptability” that educators will also find useful. Noticing the pandemic’s long-term effects on children occur while society changes at a fast pace, the authors identify ten essentials every child needs in order to thrive. They include the importance of the “Three Rs” (rest, recreation, and routine), accepting anxiety, compassion and gratitude, and resilience. The “playbook” starts with brain anatomy, neuroplasticity, and what happens when a child’s brain is under stress. The brain development permeates chapters devoted to all ten essentials. Each chapter provides reflection questions, specific strategies, and related resources. McCarthy, Tedesco, and Weaver conclude the book with tips for cultivating the essentials amid the “digital age” of technology. The storytelling, engaging format, and accessible content makes Raising a Kid Who Can an optimal guide for parents and educators looking to expand their knowledge and implement expert advice. Parent communities can use this book to promote important conversations about health and wellness. In fact, it could unite entire school communities with tools and language to help all students thrive now and in the future.

A must-listen for any administrator, manager, or educator, and especially meaningful for woman-identifying practitioners, Women at Work provides deep dives into the experiences of women in the labor force and the particular complexities of their roles at work. Whether it is an episode dedicated to conflict resolution, sexism in the workplace, entrepreneurship, or the role of women on boards of trustees, there is something for every educator, at every stage of their career, looking to reflect on their role in their organization and on the best ways to optimize their talents. The podcast is also helpful for any manager who supervises women, as it details the structural biases that can often shape educational and corporate environments and provides practical skills and frameworks for improving communication, efficiency, and creativity. “The Amys” provide an incredible resource for listeners keen to improve their work environment and layer in personal experiences of women at work. There are nine seasons to explore, and topics range from the specific (“ADHD is Different for Women”) to the broad (“How to Manage”), with each episode including personal stories and time-tested advice.

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Any elementary school educator who has read This Book Is Anti-Racist: 20 Lessons on How to Wake Up, Take Action, and Do The Work by Tiffany Jewell will be thrilled to discover Jewell’s book, The Antiracist Kid. Through the stories of three children, this book for educators and younger students describes what it means to be antiracist, specifically focusing on identity, justice, and activism. From considering various aspects of personal and social identity, to talking about and valuing differences, to discussing racism, discrimination, and justice, Jewell takes complex topics and breaks them down into kid-friendly language. In addition, she provides clear examples to which younger students can relate. The book will inspire children to talk about racism and injustice with people by using their voice, even when it is uncomfortable and hard. Jewell encourages readers to, “Keep speaking up and advocating even when no one is listening or paying attention.” This book is a must-read for educators seeking resources for social justice lessons and children who are wanting to be “[champions] for change.”

In his 1854 memoir Walden; Or Life in the Woods, Henry David Thoreau argued that it is not the bounty but the scarcity of social interaction that gives it value. He felt that too much social discourse resulted in a loss of both meaning and health: “We live thick and are in each other’s way, and stumble over one another... certainly less frequency would suffice for all important and hearty communications.” What Thoreau would think about today’s level of connectivity, one can only guess, but it would be safe to assume that he would share Jonathan Haidt’s concern about the dizzying and sometimes devastating impact of too much information, particularly for children who do not know enough of the world to effectively sort or make sense of it. In his recent Atlantic article, “End the Phone-Based Childhood Now,” Haidt points out that since the moment “young people began carrying the entire internet in their pockets, available to them day and night,” they have experienced an alarming uptick in depression, anxiety, and self-harm. To help the next generations better retain their focus, health, and optimism, Haidt offers some challenging directives given the reality we now inhabit in both life and school: 1) don’t give smartphones to kids until high school; 2) don’t give kids access to social media until they are 16; 3) don’t allow smartphones in school; and 4) give kids more independence, responsibility, and time to play. Although the chance is slim at best that any or all of Haidt’s four suggestions will take root universally, Haidt’s message is a good reminder that it is never too late to make a better decision, especially where children are concerned.

For more than twenty years with students of all ages, Rachel Kadish has assigned versions of the same exercise: her students write a monologue from the perspective of someone who says something they find abhorrent, and “there has to be an instant – even a fleeting phrase – in which we can feel empathy for the speaker.” She explains, “Good fiction pulls off a magic trick of absurd power: It makes us care.” Focusing on taking action, Adam Grant makes a distinction between compassion and empathy, however. Asserting that compassion is both healthier and kinder, Grant explains the difference: “Empathy absorbs others’ emotions as your own: ‘I’m hurting for you.’ Compassion focuses your action on their emotions: ‘I see that you’re hurting, and I’m here for you.’” How do our schools’ curricula and co-curricula interplay with this conversation? How are we preparing students to thrive as individuals, practice effective communication, and participate actively in local and global citizenship? As we reflect on our communities’ experiences of connection and consider applications for the latest research in neuroscience, these articles offer us compelling insights and provocations.

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Teaching is about counting. David Brooks’ How to Know a Person takes this notion one step further. In his book, Brooks calls into question the extent to which merely counting, that is, seeing people and letting them know that they are seen, is the end for which all people should strive. Brooks offers a subtle extension to this argument. Yes, we should strive to see those individuals with whom we interact, and, yes, we should strive to let them know in some way that we do see them. But we should also seek to understand those same individuals because “there are few things as fulfilling as that sense of being seen and understood” (emphasis added). Brooks reflects on some skills that are helpful to this end, others less so. He invites readers to join him in ruminating on what kind of person we seek to be. Moreover, he calls us to rely less on our interpretations of the thoughts and feelings we think we see, than on simply asking questions of those in front of us. Brooks’ work reminds us that we can live into our greatest duty only by seeking to understand fully our students and colleagues. In educational communities increasingly prioritizing both belonging and honest discourse, Brooks offers accessible options to consider.