The Art of Conversation

“Hello, I’m Quincey.”

“Nice to meet you.”

And then what?

We can teach a young person to walk into a room, look someone in the eye, offer a handshake, and make a confident introduction.

But eventually the handshake ends. And there you are. Standing face-to-face with another human being. Now you have to talk to each other.

This is where knowing how to make an introduction and knowing how to have a conversation become two very different skills.

An introduction opens the door. Conversation is what allows us to walk through it.

When Did Silence Become Something We Have to Escape?

I have noticed something in recent years.

When an awkward silence appears, technology gives us a very easy way out. We reach for our phones.

And I understand why. A screen gives us somewhere to look. Something to do with our hands. A reason not to make eye contact. An escape from those few uncomfortable seconds when neither person quite knows what to say next.

Adults do it, too.

The problem isn’t the phone itself. The problem is what we don’t have to practice when we reach for it.

We don’t have to think of another question. We don’t have to tolerate a moment of silence. We don’t have to notice something around us and turn it into conversation. We don’t have to take the small social risk of saying, “So, tell me about…”

Technology can make it easier to avoid the very moment in which conversational confidence is built.

And I think our young people need opportunities to experience that moment without immediately escaping it.

We’re Talking Before We Ever Say a Word

There is another part of conversation we don’t talk about enough. Body language.

Before we say hello, we are already communicating.

If I’m looking down at my phone, what am I telling the people around me? If I’m buried in a book, working intently on a puzzle, wearing headphones, turning my body away, or avoiding eye contact, am I communicating that I am open to conversation? Probably not.

And sometimes that’s intentional.

There are times when we don’t want to talk. A book may be exactly how someone wants to spend that moment. Someone working on a puzzle may be happily concentrating. A person looking at a screen may be handling something important.

Good social skills include recognizing that, too.

Conversation isn’t only knowing how to start talking. It’s knowing how to read the room.

Is this person making eye contact? Are they looking around? Is their posture open? Do they smile when I approach? Do they turn toward me? Or are they giving me signals that say, I’d rather be left alone right now?

We should teach young people to notice those signals rather than assume everyone is always available for conversation.

But we also need to teach them the other side of it. What are you communicating with your own body language?

If you would like someone to talk to you, but you’re looking down at your phone, you may unintentionally be hanging a little Do Not Disturb sign around your neck.

If you enter a room, find the nearest chair, cross your arms, look down, and wait for someone to approach you, the message your body is sending may be very different from the one you intend.

Sometimes being approachable begins before we ever speak.

Look up. Put the screen away. Notice the people around you. Make eye contact. Smile. Leave a little room in the circle. Turn toward the person who approaches.

Those aren’t just posture lessons. They’re part of the conversation.

The Awkward Silence Is Not an Emergency

A pause in conversation is okay.

It doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It doesn’t mean the other person doesn’t like you. It doesn’t mean you need to grab your phone.

Sometimes there is simply a pause. Let it be there for a second. Then try again.

Ask another question. Go back to something the person said earlier. Notice something you have in common. Offer something about yourself.

Conversation doesn’t always flow effortlessly. Sometimes we have to help it along. That’s part of the skill.

Curiosity Gives Us Somewhere to Go

When a student tells me, “I don’t know what to say,” my answer is usually some version of: Get curious.

You do not have to be the most interesting person in the room to have a good conversation. Be interested in the person standing in front of you.

Ask a question. Then—and this is important—listen to the answer. Because the answer usually gives us somewhere to go next.

If someone tells you they play soccer, you don’t need to frantically search your mind for an entirely new topic. Ask about soccer. How long have you played? What position? Do you play for your school? Do you like it?

One answer creates the possibility for another question.

Of course, conversation isn’t an interview. We respond. We share. We relate something from our own experience. Then we turn the conversation back toward the other person.

There is a rhythm to it. And like most rhythms, it takes practice.

A Few Questions in Your Back Pocket

I find conversation much easier when I have a small bank of general questions queued up and ready to fall back on.

Not a script. Not an interrogation. Just a few dependable questions tucked away for the moment when my mind goes completely blank.

Because it happens. Even to adults. Even to people who are comfortable talking to others.

Sometimes a conversation reaches a pause and absolutely nothing clever comes to mind. That’s when I reach into my question bank.

“How do you know our host?”

“Have you been here before?”

“What have you been up to this summer?”

“How is your school year going?”

“Are you involved in anything outside of school?”

“What are you looking forward to?”

Nothing groundbreaking. That’s the point.

A good conversation doesn’t require a groundbreaking question. It requires a question that gives the other person somewhere to go.

And then comes the important part: listen to the answer.

The question from your bank may get the conversation moving again, but you shouldn’t need to keep pulling questions from it one after another. Ideally, the answer gives you your next question.

“I’ve been playing tennis all summer.” — “Oh, how long have you played?”

“My family just got back from Colorado.” — “Where did you go?”

“I just started at a new school.” — “How are you liking it so far?”

Now we’re no longer relying on the question bank. We’re having a conversation.

I want our students to develop their own little collection of questions they know they can rely on. There is confidence in knowing that when an awkward silence arrives, you don’t have to panic—or reach for a screen.

You already have another option. Ask a question. Listen to the answer. Find the thread. And keep going.

A question bank isn’t a substitute for conversation. It’s simply a very useful way to help one along.

Listening May Be the Most Important Part

We know when someone is actually listening to us. We also know when they aren’t.

Their eyes are elsewhere. They’re waiting for their opportunity to speak. They’re looking at their phone. They ask a question we’ve already answered. Or we can almost see them preparing their response while we’re still talking.

Being a good conversationalist isn’t about having the best stories in the room. Often, the people we remember are the ones who made us feel heard.

That requires attention. And attention is increasingly something we have to practice deliberately.

Listening has body language, too. Looking toward someone. Responding to what they’re saying. Allowing your expression to react naturally. Not scanning the room for someone else while they’re talking.

Our bodies can communicate I’m listening just as clearly as they can communicate I’d rather be somewhere else.

This Is Why We Put the Technology Away

Little Rock Junior Cotillion™ events are intentionally technology-free.

Not because technology is bad. Not because I believe young people should live in a world without phones. They won’t.

We put the technology away because I want our students to experience what happens when the easiest escape isn’t available.

When there is no phone to reach for during the pause, we have to look up. We have to notice one another. We have to think of another question. We have to listen. We have to read the social cues around us. We have to make ourselves available for interaction. We have to try.

And yes, sometimes we have to sit through a few seconds of awkward silence. That is okay. Because we’re practicing what to do next.

Why Young People Need This

The ability to carry on a conversation will follow our children into nearly every part of their adult lives.

Friendships begin with conversations. So do dates. An interview is a conversation. So is a college visit.

There will be conversations with teachers, coaches, professors, employers, coworkers, clients, neighbors, future in-laws, and people they have only just met.

Some conversations will be easy. Others won’t. Some people will be naturally easy for them to talk to. Others won’t be.

And sometimes the socially skilled choice will be recognizing that another person isn’t interested in talking at all.

That’s life.

We cannot prepare our children for every person they will meet or every conversation they will have. But we can teach them to notice.

So We Practice Talking to Each Other

At Cotillion, our students aren’t going to learn conversation by listening to me lecture about conversation. They’re going to talk. To one another.

They’re also going to learn to pay attention before they talk.

Who looks open to conversation? Who is standing alone? Is there room to bring someone else into our group? What does my own body language say?

Some conversations will come naturally. Some will be awkward. There will be one-word answers. Questions that go nowhere. Pauses. Moments when two students look at each other and neither has the slightest idea what to say next.

Good. That’s where the lesson is.

Try another question. Listen more carefully. Offer a little more than “yes” or “no.” Include someone else.

And most importantly: don’t immediately escape the discomfort. Stay in the conversation long enough to practice your way through it.

The Cotillion Lady™ Principle

The goal isn’t to eliminate awkward silences. The goal is to teach our children that they can handle them—and to recognize when another person is inviting conversation and when they are not.

Look up. Stay present. Notice. Ask another question. Listen to the answer. Try again.

Because someday there won’t be an instructor prompting the next question. There will simply be another person standing in front of them.

And perhaps the difference between an awkward silence and a meaningful connection will be the willingness to stay present just a little longer and say:

“Tell me more.”