In the daily rhythm of child care, we are always communicating. Sometimes that communication is deep and meaningful, and other times we rely on phrases that have become “scripts”—everyday statements at specific times of day to generate an intended response or outcome. Some scripts I often hear are “Walking feet!”, “Indoor voices, please”, and the three words that are the subject of this article: “Use your words”.
Early in my career, I used many of these scripts too. Mainly, because I had heard other educators saying them so often. I’m not sure where they came from or why we use (or, overuse) them. But I think it’s a good time to step back and revisit them.
Deconstructing Language: “Use Your Words”
As we’ve learned, the language and mindset are intertwined. They feed one another and work in tandem. Oftentimes, what we think effects what we say. And what we say effects the way we think. This is one reason why the language we use matters so much—it impacts the way we show up for children everyday as educators.
Re-Considering “Use Your Words” During Stress Responses
Sometimes I hear this phrase being used when a child is expressing themselves in another way, like with emotional responses such as crying, shouting, breathing rapidly, hiding, or shutting down.
If a child is sobbing, I really understand why we might say “use your words”. The intention underneath might be that the educator wants to calm the child down and ‘switch’ them out of that deep sadness. It’s uncomfortable for us to see children struggle, our empathy shifts into high-gear. And for some children, this might be the guidance that is helpful in that moment.
But for many more children, crying is a result of overwhelming stress, and the tears are a way to release that stress. The prefrontal cortex is the part of the child’s brain that is responsible for deciphering and forming language (among other functions), and when children are stressed this portion of the brain slows down dramatically, making it difficult for children to understand what you’re saying and/or formulate a response to phrases like “use your words”.
When we meet children’s stress responses with a request for language, we are likely adding fuel to the fire in the form of additional frustration because we’re asking them to call upon a skill that is currently out of reach. In that moment, it’s like asking a fish to climb a tree—it’s not very likely.
So, what can we do instead when a child is in a tricky, emotional place?
Start with allowing the emotion have a little time and space to be released. We can serve as a compassionate witness with that child—letting them know you’re there and that it’s ok to have these tricky feelings. Some children might welcome a gentle hug, some might prefer your soothing voice and words like “take your time, I’m listening”, and some children might need some time to be alone at first.
Regardless of what you do, the underlying message you want to send is I see you, hear you, and you matter—in whatever way works for that child in the specific situation. I’ve worked with children who like to go for a walk side-by-side as they navigate anger or frustration, and I’ve also had children sink right into my arms in search of a cuddle and calm voice. Some children feel eased to hear “I can tell your angry, and that’s so tough”, other children would prefer you say nothing and offer non-speaking, responsive care like kind eyes, holding hands, or attuned proximity.
As much as we’d like a ‘one size fits all’ strategy, like saying “use your words”, that is just not helpful to us as educators because teaching is more than science and factual knowledge, it is also a fluid art of responding in-the-moment to children.
“Use Your Words”, the Role of Ableism, and Re-imagining ‘Listening’
In our culture, the spoken word is heralded as the primary form of communication. And if our personal communication style is the spoken word, it’s likely that this is what we’re inclined to show preference to. For many of us, ableism has snuck into our ‘cultural backpack’ and caused us to under appreciate or make space for other forms of communication. Our over-reliance on phrases like “use your words” continues to perpetuate the myth that this is the only kind of language we are aiming for, the only modality that will be heard, the only one that matters. And, the spoken word is an important skill to build—but, as we know, not all children communicate with the spoken word in any and all circumstances.
To shift our perspective, we can first recognize that all children are competent communicators—but to appreciate this fully we need to step back, stop prioritizing the spoken word alone, and recognize the ways they are trying to send us messages. We also need to ensure our programs are equipped with the necessary resources for all children to communicate without unnecessary barriers. For instance, children with special rights may use pictures, assistive devices, sign language, sounds, and so on to convey a message. If the spoken word is not an option, we can work with families and specialists to determine the modality that would provide them with the fewest barriers, and then ensure we provide those resources in our space.
And, one of those key resources is always US: with a changed way of listening and responding that aligns with the individual child’s communication style. We can shift from a focus on “use your words” to “can you show me or point to what you need?”, use picture cues to communicate, offer concrete play choices like showing children a paintbrush or bubbles, and so on. Educators are highly skilled at understanding the children in their care. However, when supporting children with special rights, moving past the instinctive prompt to “use your words” allows us to better honour their diverse, non-verbal, and individualized forms of expression.
It is important to note: We are learning the term ‘non-verbal’ has come to be interpreted by many as “this child cannot communicate in any form”. Many advocates prefer more precise language like ‘non-speaking’, which refers to the spoken word specifically, and ensures we recognize that communication in other forms is always happening. Again, this is another situation where the language we use matters. When we say ‘non-verbal’, we may assume children can’t communicate at all and, as a result, we stop finding different ways to ‘listen’. When we say ‘non-speaking’, we recognize that although the spoken word is not currently available, there are many other ways children can and do communicate, and we can simply observe more closely, ‘listen’ in new ways, and ensure our responses are inclusive for all.
Pause & Reflect: We can step back and consider: in what ways is this child already communicating, other than with spoken words? In what ways can we shift the way we ‘listen’ and respond to this child to ensure communication is barrier-free?
In the end…
I’ve noticed that the situations when we most want children to “use their words” is often when words are not easily accessible, or even all that helpful.
Instead of insisting on spoken words, can we hold up the image of children as competent communicators, pay attention with all our senses, and truly respond?
Pause & Reflect: How might this approach change the trajectory of everyday moments in child care, like when a child is dysregulated or communicating in another form?
Reflecting on this article’s ‘big idea’:
- What might children be thinking when we say, “use your words”?
- What might happen to their bodies and nervous systems when we redirect them in this way? What have you noticed?
- And what does “use your words” (and other scripts like this) teach children about how we view them?
