It’s almost your turn. The student at the front of the room is finishing up their presentation, breezing through the last few points on their PowerPoint. Just a few more minutes — seconds? — until you’re expected to do the same.

You have been dreading this all week. Public speaking, despite years of practice, still isn’t your strong suit. It doesn’t help that your classmates make it look so effortless. The student says a simple “Thank you,” signaling the end of their presentation. You start to walk up to the podium.

You shoot a friend a pleading look from across the room — they know how anxious you are.

“Don’t be nervous,” your friend says.

Don’t be nervous.

Your friend imparted the advice with good intent, of course, and perhaps it was the best they could do in the few seconds they had. However, it’s also surprisingly illustrative of something I’ve learned a lot about this past quarter: the benefits of saying nothing unless it’s something.

In the middle of finals week, does hearing “Don’t be stressed” help at all? Does a “Don’t take it so hard” in the face of failure or rejection ever help reverse feelings of inadequacy?

Instead, the “Don’t” at the beginning of the sentence, meant to add perspective, invalidates more than anything else. It’s a command and it isn’t helpful.

For example, imagine you have just confided in a friend about a problem — a heated argument with a relative, for example. You open up, make yourself vulnerable and they say, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

That doesn’t help, does it? You already know that, in due time, you will be fine. You know you “shouldn’t” worry. But that’s not the point, is it?

I get it — you want to comfort, to reassure. It’s a human thing to want to help. After all, there’s something satisfying about feeling useful. But reader, just listen.

Don’t tell them what to do, don’t tell them how to feel. Listening — really listening — means being quiet. And if you do speak, choose your words wisely — say nothing unless it’s something. Speak if you have something that adds without projecting, or to inquire or clarify, to reach a deeper understanding of the truth your friend is trying to reveal to you. It also means withholding the small reassurances and keeping the positive, optimistic interjections to yourself.

Most of all, listening means feeling with the person instead of feeling for them. If you can, share with them in the experience, whatever it is — partake in the sadness or the happiness instead of feeling bad for them or feeling happy for them.

To listen is to understand, and we’re at Stanford to learn. So listen.

 

Contact Amanda Rizkalla at amariz ‘at’ stanford.edu.