In August of this year, I listened to a thought-provoking and extremely insightful TED Talk by Celeste Headlee entitled ‘10 Ways to have a better conversation’. I didn’t just stumble upon this podcast, I had actively searched for something to give me some practical tips and inspiration on how to have a ‘better’ conversation. This may appear strange coming from a French Teacher to adult learners whose role very much revolves around nurturing conversation and encouraging others to talk, but this wasn’t about me as a French Teacher, this was about me trying to re-engage with family members, friends and acquaintances in a meaningful way after the first few months of lockdown. Everything Headlee said made perfect sense and when I later reflected further upon what I had learned, I realised that my learners were already doing so much of what Headlee advised; these ‘better’ conversations were taking place right before my eyes.

Before exploring this further, it may be useful for me to quickly explain what led me to this Podcast. I’m from Oldham, where most of my friends and family still live, but now live in neighbouring Rochdale and I’ve been teaching French to adults in both towns for over 4 years. As you may well be aware, we have been hit hard by the pandemic and I know that for me personally, I have been living with an underlying feeling of anxiety and worry for many months. The impact of Covid is omnipresent here (as in many other areas) and it has, quite understandably, also hijacked our conversations. I think that despite, certainly initially, a real sense of solidarity and being in ‘it’ together quite paradoxically, the precarity of the situation forced us to turn in on ourselves, to create new routines that worked for us and eventually to also develop divisions. I admit that I am very sensitive and analytical, to a fault at times, and as we emerged from lockdown, I began finding more and more that interactions with others were leaving me feeling unsettled, anxious and constantly questioning decisions I was making. When Headlee quoted Steven Covey who said most people don’t ‘listen with the intent to understand they listen with the intent to reply’, it seemed to describe so succinctly what I was both doing and experiencing – and it concerned me. Was I / Were we losing my / our ability to have genuine conversations?

As I reflected upon this, I started to think about my learners and I realised that in the language classroom learners do listen to understand. Of course, that perhaps go without saying as this will no doubt be one of the main reasons, they are learning French but, I think that the result of this goes far beyond just ‘understanding’ the French. When learners listen to understand, they listen attentively and with genuine engagement. They are present and involved. They ask for clarification about what their partner has said and they check that they have understood correctly. The learner is interested – and with interest comes a desire to know more, and when we know more, we learn more. We’re open and we are, in Headlee’s words, ‘… prepared to be amazed.’ When learners feedback after conversation work, I am so often amazed about what they have found out about each other; from Star Trek conventions to tap dancing, from caring for a sick mother to celebrating the birth of a grandchild, from grieving for a lost partner to a child starting a new job. It is all amazing.

Equally, they are patient. Headlee speaks about the need to not multitask when we are having conversations, but to be present. Of course, learners come together at a set time that has been dedicated to learning, where a space is created to temporarily escape other distractions and to focus on those you are with and the rewards reaped from this are huge – not just with regards to learning French but more deeply with regards to learning from one another.

This patience also means that learners avoid interrupting each other or talking over one another. I am guilty of jumping in and finishing other people’s sentences and as I speak very slowly, it regularly happens to me too. But when someone finishes my sentences, they are concluding my story with their words, not mine. My learners don’t do this. They wait patiently and encouragingly for their partners to find their words, to finish their sentences and to say what they want to say. They are on hand to help out but they don’t interrupt or jump in – they wait considerately and they want to hear what their partner has to say.

One final point that struck me when I observed more closely the interactions between my learners was the constant praise that they awarded to one another, and the facility with which they showed each other admiration. Very often this may be about a particular expression someone has used in their conversation or perhaps a tricky tense structure, but nonetheless hearing the praise, and knowing someone is listening so intently, spurs you on to share more and builds confidence – not only in what you are saying but in the person you are speaking to. 

For me, these ‘revelations’ help to explain why from just spending 90 minutes a week together, my learners have formed some very deep connections with each other and also some lasting friendships. Their willingness to listen, to be present, to be patient and to praise is powerful.

Of course, you could argue that the language classroom does not represent real life. As I mentioned before, it is a segment of time carved out for a specific event. However, there is no denying at all that the conversations are real, the connections are real and the genuine compassion and care among my learners are real.

Many of my learners have told me that the weekly classes (currently via Zoom) have been a real life-line to them during Covid. I know that this is not just about the French – in fact, I suspect the French plays a small part in this. It’s about the interaction with friends who listen. I’ve always said that I learn more from my learners than they learn from me and once again they have proved me right. Merci du fond de mon cœur.