Learning To Communicate (Assignment 2)

 

Have you ever been in a situation where you are teaching a class, or maybe just trying to explain something to a person; but when you look at that person it is obvious from their blank stare that they are not involved in the process of learning along with you? I’m quite sure that feeling of detachment was exactly what my instructor was experiencing on that late winter day in two thousand three when he when he looked at me. I was sitting in a class discussing cultural attributes of Latin American people at the Defense Equal Opportunity Management Institute, or at least I was supposed to be discussing, but instead I was reliving an event that had happened seven years earlier. The discussion of eye contact in communication transported me from a classroom in Florida to a shipboard office floating somewhere in the Mediterranean.

It was one of those days that twenty three years of experience had conditioned me to dread. It seemed to me like every part of my world was working perfectly and that I could do no wrong. The meeting that I really didn’t want to attend was cancelled, all of my e-mails from the previous night had been answered favorable replies, and I even received mail from home with the long awaited photographs I had been expecting. When a day goes like that and nothing is going wrong it can mean only one thing; doom is impending. After a good long run and a light lunch I had expected to finish some light paperwork that had been neglected earlier in my week, but as I entered my office the long face of my airframes shop Chief told me that things were about to change. Not being a person to beat around the bush he came right out with the bad news. One of the most important and most complex items of test equipment that we owned was broken and it was broken in a big way. This machine was the life blood of his work centers and with it out of operation he was almost completely out of business. The most disturbing part of his report was his comment that the reason for the failure of the machine was negligent operation on the part of the people in the shop. It seemed that some small part of my luck was still with us because a ship that was very close to us had the part we needed and the test equipment was fixed in a matter of hours. Fixing the machine is not an important part of the story; getting to the facts regarding why it was broke is my real reason for relating this event.

While we waited for the parts we needed to be flown over to us my Chief started an informal investigation into the incident. He looked into the operation of the equipment, checked the training records of the operators, and reviewed all of the periodic maintenance logs for the previous year. After about three hours he came back up to my office with one of his mid-grade technicians in tow. The chief quickly explained what he had checked and presented his findings, but he then went on to say that the technician had some information about the event that might be important. The technician was a younger man than me, in his early twenties. He was a service member from a Latin American country who was serving in the US Navy while he worked on his citizenship.  I had had a few opportunities to speak with him in the past and I understood that while he did have a considerable accent his command of the English language was passable. When his Chief told him to explain what he knew about the incident to me the young man started to talk. I must admit that I am really not sure what he said, because I was much more interested in his non-verbal communication. Almost as soon as he said the first word his eyes went right to the floor. It was as though he was in a room full of pit vipers and he was more concerned about being bitten than telling me what he had to say. As the short conversation progressed I found myself adjusting my position to try to get into his field of vision, but to no avail. He finished his comments but did not look up. I think my statement “you’re dismissed” startled his Chief more than it concerned the technician.  He quickly turned on his heels leaving me and the Chief in the office alone. After the door closed the Chief asked me what I thought. His obvious surprise told me that my answer was not what he expected. I told him that I did not believe the technician and in effect I told the Chief that I thought the technician broke the machine and was also guilty of everything up to and including the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby.

My reference to the Lindbergh baby and my incredulity were both an indication of the origin of my remarks; for we are all products of our upbringing; some more than others. I have my Father to thank for this morsel of my makeup, because it was my Father that ingrained in me the basics of communication. I’m sure he picked up in his strict German childhood the irrevocable truth that in communication eye contact is everything. When I was little I am sure that there was some incident where I was less than forthcoming with the truth. This must have been an invitation for Dad to give me the age old “the eyes are the window to a man’s soul” lecture. It was obviously one of his better lectures because it stuck although I am not sure it was an original. He told me that if you want a person to believe you it is imperative that you look them in the eye. More important if a person will not look you in the eye they are not to be trusted or believed.  

Needless to say on that day on the water trust and belief was the last thing that I had in mind for this young man. Fortune had it that his Chief was convincing enough to make me understand that no additional action was needed in this situation. By the end of the day the machine was fixed and enough other annoying things happened to make the entire incident just a distant memory. It’s amazing how quickly the image of that young man popped back into my mind when we started to discuss eye contact in Latin American communication. The short version of the lecture is the fact that eye contact is considered a challenge to authority especially for a younger person who is talking to an older person with higher station. In my office on the sea I looked at my technician through the cultural filter that my father had given me. I considered him to be dishonest and untrustworthy. In reality he was giving me the highest level of respect that he could, and for his trouble he was dismissed without a thank you or an acknowledgement of his efforts to help the situation.

I have never again seen this young man, and in truth I doubt that I would recognize him if I did. If I were to run into him in the future I would like to think that I would have the moral fiber to make things right with him. More and more every day we interact with people who gain their values and mannerisms from influences that are far different from our own. It is impossible to know what the motivation is behind every verbal remark and non-verbal action, but if we are going to get along in an increasingly international world we might want to get a better understanding of the sources of our own values.