Epiphany #2: Verbosity Is Not Always Welcome

I've discovered many times since becoming an educator that teachers make the worst students. We do everything in class that drives us crazy when our students do it in our class. We have super short attention spans. We talk while the teacher is talking. We don't pay attention during class. We . . . well, you get the point. So, with that said, here's a little something in our defense. When teachers become students, it is usually at the end of a very long day. My classes I'm in right now don't even start until 4:30 p.m. after I've had a full day of teaching. We are usually tired, hungry (due to the fact that I have lunch at 11:30 a.m.), and although we may be enjoying the class, we aren't all that excited to be there when thoughts of going home and curling up with a good book permeate our thoughts during the entire lecture. It is in cases like this where I discover just how much verbosity in speaking is really annoying. I know I've confessed to being a verbose writer, but I have a theory about that.

People would much rather have to read something from a verbose writer than listen to a verbose speaker who goes over the alloted time for their speech/lecture/lesson.

Exhibit A: When one encounters a verbose writer, they have the option of putting aside the extensive soliloquy and coming back later when they are prepared to take on more reading. Breaks can be extensive and frequent. (For example, I took many, many breaks while trying to muddle through a particularly long and boring text book the other day.) With verbose speakers, it is considered a social faux pas to get up and leave in the middle of a lecture. (Okay, so maybe it isn't a faux pas . . . but it is usually considered rude! I just like the term "faux pas" and feel smarter knowing how to use the phrase and spell it!)

Exhibit B: Verbosity is welcomed in writing--even encouraged. English teachers everywhere encourage you to add more detail . . . in essence, become more verbose in your writing. When you read something with wonderful detail, you tell all your friends how beautiful and descriptive it is. When you listen to a verbose speaker, you tell all your friends how long the speaker went on, and on, and on . . .

Exhibit C: Speakers are usually given a time limit. The people in the audience are given a specific time as to when they will be able to leave the presentation and move on with their lives. As a result, about 5 minutes before the speaker is supposed to stop, people quit listening. You might deny it, but I'm sure you all know exactly what I'm talking about. I am willing to bet that all of you have missed the last 5 minutes of a lesson or talk because you were watching the clock to see if they would end on time. And when they don't, you get annoyed and wonder if they can see that they are over time.

Exhibit D: The written word works into your time schedule. You can read it any time you want. You have to fit into the time schedule of the spoken word. You have to make time in your busy life to get to the talk/lesson/class/etc. You usually can't just listen to it at your leisure.

Exhibit E: How many times have you heard someone complain about how long a written piece was verses the number of times you've heard someone complain about how long a lecture was? Although there are complaints about both, the complaints about the latter are usually much more abundant.

I rest my case. I will confess there may be some flaws in my reasoning. There are times where the spoken word is way better than the written word. There are even times where a long-winded speaker is welcomed . . . like when you have to speak after them and don't have the time to do so. (Unless of course you are just rescheduled to speak the next week!) But, when you are teaching a class full of teachers, it's probably in your best interest to not make the class go over the alloted time . . . they begin to grumble, and that will inevitably lead to rioting. And rioting teachers can be an ugly thing. Trust me. I've seen it.

Maybe we all just need to be a little more patient . . . or maybe presenters just need to supply more chocolate to encourage patience. Or maybe we just need to start a campaign to stop verbosity before it starts. We could use the slogan "Friends Don't Let Friends Speak verbosely!!" Or maybe it could say, "Stop Verbosity Before . . . " Or maybe in particularly long lectures, we could all simply chant, "Short and Sweet, Short and Sweet, Short and Sweet . . . " I know what you're thinking . . . as if that wouldn't be a social faux pas! Hey, it might catch on someday!