Consider this before you hit ‘send’
Whoever coined the centuries-old expression “sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me” was an idiot.
Of course names hurt! They are the backbone of bullying and ignorance.
A close friend of mine was reduced to tears recently after she received an email intended for someone else when the sender accidentally clicked “reply all.”
The woman, who I will identify only as Sarah to protect her privacy, had been touring elementary schools for her child. She was emailing a thank-you note for a school tour and wanted to set one up for her husband. She also asked a few questions about the school’s plans for a new building. The tour had been held in a temporary location, and she wanted to envision the physical space where her young child might spend the majority of his days.
Sarah assumed school officials would be proud to show off the plans. They’d already hosted a reveal for current students and parents.
When she did not receive an immediate response to her questions, Sarah let it lie for a while and then sent a follow-up email four months later, almost copying and pasting the original content. This was the response she received from the head of the school:
“Will you answer her when you get a chance. I’m not overly excited about bringing her in. She seems a bit high maintenance, and I’m not sure we will live up to her very high expectations.”
This terse email was followed by a fat yellow “wink-wink” emoji.
Sarah sat stunned for a moment, thinking this surely was directed neither at her nor about her.
“Then the ‘aha moment’ came that this was not directed to me but very, very much about me and my character,” she said.
In short order, I imagine the sender came to that realization, as well. My friend’s phone began to ring, and she received an email with the subject titled “Apology.”
Looking back upon the short email thread, which began with her RSVP for an open house at the school, Sarah could not imagine how any reader would interpret such a demanding tone in her messages. Her enthusiasm for the school’s new construction and excitement for her husband to learn more about it had been mistaken as “high maintenance.”
Being treated in this manner as a prospective parent gave Sarah pause. How would this triggerfinger head of school speak of tuition-paying parents, with more vested interest, behind closed doors?
Not every electronic communication is so literal. Emails are often short exchanges with words abbreviated and misspelled. And yet we read into them, dissecting their meaning and relying on technology as a source of human connection and approval.
Who hasn’t added an unnecessary exclamation point to ensure friendliness?
Researchers say that the “ding” on our smartphones and computers alerting us to a new message releases dopamine levels. We literally get a high when we hear someone has reached out to us via social media, email or text.
This reaction is separate from the content and algorithms of electronic communication, which also wire us to look for the next high. It makes sense that if we are emotionally reliant on electronic communication for human contact and validation that the contents of such messages also would be interpreted emotionally.
Last week, I was contacted by a reader wondering how to respond to a friend who was upset because her social media post announcing something bad had happened was overlooked by the reader.
“She was actually mad at me because I did not reach out to her. I hadn’t seen her post, and she said that she always looks at my posts,” the reader said. “I am confounded that we are now expected to know what is going on in everyone’s lives if they post it on Facebook.”
And shamed if we don’t, apparently.
Text and tone are in the eye of the beholder. Smartphones can turn sassy in an instant.
In my friend Sarah’s circumstance, the head of the school picked up the old-fashioned smartphone and used its now outdated telephone app to call. She got Sarah’s voicemail but left a heartfelt apology.
“It lifted me, a bit, out of a place I rarely find myself in,” Sarah shared.
Words matter. They soothe as much as they sting. In tense times, it feels easier to type the things we don’t want to say face to face. Unfortunately, it gives us license to, perhaps, say things too harshly because we are physically removed from one another. But once it’s sent, tweeted or posted, it’s forever.
Count to 10 before pressing “send.” Ask yourself:
Are you emailing the right person?
Did you hit “reply” versus “reply all”?
Will you be judged or indicted, or lose your job, client or friend if you send this?
Would your co-workers and friends approve of your language if they read the message unintentionally?
Can you be more articulate and sensitive in your word choices?
Better yet, consider saving an email as a draft and revisit it in an hour or the next day.
If an exchange gets too wordy, detailed or leaves you feeling a pit in your stomach, avoid a communication breakdown (and meltdown) by picking up the phone.
The telephone reminds us to choose our words thoughtfully and allows us to enrich our communication with tone of voice, which isn’t as likely to be misinterpreted as the tone of an electronic message. It’s also the method of communication most sincere when explanations and apologies are in order.
As far as I am concerned, the telephone still stands the test of time, along with this oldie but goodie: “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say it at all.”