"Learning more about male-female styles of communication can be a great way to boost your shalom bayis"

Comfort In, Dump Out [Inbox / Issue 784]

I’m writing in response to the Inbox letter, “Their Pain Is Valid Too,” which was responding to a perspective about how to relate to people with eating disorders. The letter noted that the children and families of people with eating disorders are entitled to their perspective, and that their pain is just as valid as the person who is suffering.

This is of course true, but I think it’s a point we all grapple with. Can the husband of someone who’s mentally ill share how difficult his wife’s illness is for him, or is that unfair to his wife? Can the siblings of a cancer patient complain about their pain, or should they be silent in the face of their sister’s?

I’ve found psychologist Susan Silk’s Ring Theory to be a very helpful guide. Picture a set of rings. The person facing the trauma is in the middle. In the ring next to her are her closest family members. The next ring has close friends and extended family; the next ring has their larger circle of acquaintances, etc. This is, as per Silk, “the kvetching order.”

The person in the middle can say anything to anyone — her “one payoff,” Silk says, for the trauma.  But others can only vent or complain to someone in a larger ring. When talking to someone in a smaller ring, who’s closer to the center of the crisis, they can only offer help or support. “Comfort in, dump out,” Silk says.

Using this as our guide can help us ensure that everyone gets both the support and venting time that they need.

R.T.

Communicate and Connect [He Said, She Said / Issue 784]

Rivki Silver’s “He Said, She Said” was a fun, light read about the different ways that men and women use language. Learning more about male-female styles of communication can be a great way to boost your shalom bayis.

While this article veered into some hyperbole for comedic effect, I think it’s important for us to remember that this was just that, and not allow exaggerated clichés to serve as our benchmark for normalcy. Men are not clueless, grunting boors who can barely muster up the energy for a monosyllabic response while their wives are fluttering around, gushing enthusiastically. It’s not crazy for a woman to expect her life partner to talk to her. And yes, husbands should know where the shmattehs are — and how to use them.

Everyone likely has patterns of communication that are shaped by their upbringing, gender, locale. That’s fine — and studying these patterns can help us gain more understanding of our spouses and relationships. But if we lean too deeply into clichés, accepting them as fact instead of using them as a springboard for growth and self-improvement, we can end up with two-dimensional, limited relationships.

Remember the ultimate goal of learning about language — to help us communicate and connect.

Tirtza L., Brooklyn

Sales Isn’t a Script [No Fail / Issue 783]

When reading Fay Dworetsky’s column about her career journey, I was disappointed by her takeaway that she’s “just not good at sales.” Many people, including Fay, seem to have the mistaken impression that “being good at sales” means making someone buy something they don’t want, or following a script that tells them what to say. What’s even more shocking is that in Fay’s anecdote, her customer very directly gave her the key to effective sales when he stated, albeit gruffly, “Would you like to tell me how you can help me?”

Successful sales are about listening to your customer, finding out what they need, and then figuring out how you can help. Listening is the key skill — not following a script.

Ironically, it was when Fay started to listen — to herself and to other women — that she found she was phenomenal in sales. Her process was transformed when she realized that “I wasn’t trying to convince anyone to use my services — I was just trying to help them.”

Sales is an important skill in any business, as is its close counterpart, fundraising, which is essential for every yeshivah and Jewish organization. Anyone trying to get a business off the ground or who is responsible for meeting a payroll would benefit from a deeper understanding of sales.

My career in sales provides me with a respectable income, intellectual challenge, a dignified work environment, and Shabbos and Yom Tov days off with no questions asked. Moreover, in a world where women still only earn 84 cents to a man’s dollar, my compensation is not limited by my gender, but by my results. I am dismayed when I see young women and men who have all the right ingredients to be successful in sales (people skills, creativity, and curiosity) reject the possibility of a sales career outright because of a misguided understanding of what sales truly means.

Devorah Kaufman

Fay Dworetsky responds:

Thank you so much for sharing your perspective and opening the conversation. You make some great points that I absolutely agree with. Sales is not about trying to sell someone something they don’t need or want. In addition, listening closely — both to what is said and what isn’t — is a key factor in making good sales.

Just to clarify, I didn’t work in sales like you do; I made the sales for my own multiple service businesses. And what I learned is that when you’re selling a product or service, you must be 100 percent behind whatever you’re selling. When I pivoted into offering a service that I passionately believed in, that came through loud and clear, and enrolling clients suddenly became so much easier and so much more fun. There are a lot of sales skills you can learn, but they must stand on top of a foundation of fully believing in your product or service. There’s nothing as powerful as being excited and inspired by whatever it is you are selling.

When a Child Won’t Talk [Know This / Issue 783]

It was interesting to hear from the parent who used professional resources to deal with a child’s selective mutism. My daughter’s experience was very different.

We are Americans living in Israel. Our children speak English at home and learn Hebrew during the first year or two that they are immersed in a Hebrew-speaking environment. All the teachers in our area know how to accommodate children who are just starting to speak the language, and with patience and time, all the kids have picked up Hebrew very well (and then some lost their English, but that’s a different story).

One of my daughters, however, refused to engage with her gannenet. The gannenet was extremely experienced, and she was in touch with me midyear.

“Your daughter clearly understands what I’m saying,” she said, “but she refuses to say a word. Don’t worry, though, I’ll win. We’ll have her talking Hebrew in a few months. She might be stubborn, but I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

By the end of the year, my daughter still had not said a word to her gannenet. She was able to answer all her parshah questions and tell us all about her day, so this clearly wasn’t a comprehension issue. The gannenet conceded that she hadn’t “won,” but she did so with a smile. She then told me that one of two things would happen the next year: either my daughter would continue her silence, in which case we’d have to get her help, or she would open her mouth and speak a perfectly fluent Hebrew from day one. She told me that she’d bet on the second option.

“Your daughter is a perfectionist,” she said. “I can see that from the way she does her art projects. I bet she just decided that if she can’t speak Hebrew perfectly, she won’t speak it at all.”

The gannenet was right. When the next school year started, my daughter was confident that she’d mastered Hebrew, and was a full participant in the classroom. She hasn’t had any issues of selective mutism since — but the gannenet’s assessment of her personality and tenacity are still absolutely on target!

Debbie K., Israel

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 786)