Jaime Bruce- W. A. I. T Why Am I Talking?

Two years ago, I spent twelve weekends with other people who worked with young children, completing a certificate in Therapeutic Play. Amongst us there were teaching assistants, teachers, child psychologists, a woman who worked with newly fostered children, and pastoral care workers from all settings. The course ran alongside term time at school, which meant I was able to use a lot of what I learned on those weekends immediately with children on Mondays. Whilst I could harp on and on about all manner of things I picked up in that course, the one I kept and use regularly is WAIT; Why Am I Talking?

As adults, we find it odd when a space forms between us that isn’t filled with chat. That space can really feel unbearable to some, and can lead to over-thinking, gross discomfort, and even an unsettled doubt of ones own grasp of social skills. In reality, however, our more rational brain probably knows that a peaceful silence is often better than whatever light conversation we will try to muster. Children have a different social experience to us. They don’t understand ‘awkward’ the way we might, nor are they afraid to say ‘you’re not my friend’ to somebody’s face like grown-ups are too afraid to. When we sit by a child to observe their learning, whether it be writing, reading, play, or even eating their lunch, we naturally may launch into speaking as a way of expressing our own discomfort in the lack of talk. But WHY ARE WE TALKING?

If a child happily draws next to you, as you watch on, is it necessary to ask them about every decision they make, name every colour they use, talk about your own life as parts of it come to mind? Probably not. How about a child engaged in writing. How often do we talk as they write, tell them what we like about their writing, say rhymes to remind them of letter formation, or simply chatter about other things that aren’t writing? For me, the answer is *all the time*. Less now than before…but still a lot. If I notice what I am doing, filling the silence with useless “whys” and “why nots”, I ask myself Why Am I Talking? Is it to benefit the child, or is it to eradicate my own feelings of awkwardness; or that I’m not doing any active teaching?

My own teacher on the therapeutic play course explained well. He said to imagine any times you had been trying to get something done, an important email perhaps, or a physical task that requires focus. He said then to think how annoying it was when somebody interrupted you, or tried to engage you in conversation as you typed, painted, cooked, or read. And it is annoying, isn’t it! I think of people talking when you are trying to watch a movie, and it seems the perfect fit to illustrate all of this. Reading, when you are four and don’t know how to, is hard enough, without an adult constantly talking and commenting as you go. The child might not know how to address you and the words in the book simultaneously. As the adult, we can ask ourselves Why Am I Talking?, and clarify what we can see the child doing, and how we might communicate our surprise at their learning, or pride in their achievements without talking from the beginning of the activity to the finish.

Even today, this is something I am working on! And now, as this post runs over the word limit, I ask myself, Why Am I (still) Talking??