Words and Brains
appreciate language and I’m into words. I really like stringing them together and otherwise layering my favourites on top of each other. There’s something especially appealing about a quirky turn of phrase; mix me a metaphor and I’m all in. One bit of writing I am most proud of was a short bio I wrote about my friend Todd, to be posted on the blog of a creative writing collective he had joined. In it I likened him to a burly blacksmith of the written word, factually reported that he was born of the Virgin Shirley (not his mother’s actual name) and may have referenced the hold ‘em and fold ‘em of Kenny Rogers. It was kind of epic and got me an invite to join that collective. I was too busy and didn’t, but sometimes I dig up that piece for a reread.
We know language is powerful and the speech we use can push others away or draw them in. My paragraph about Todd gives me warm feelings because it reminds me of what I like about my friend. My experience with the ideas prompts me to lean in. It’s possible the very same paragraph could evoke the opposite feelings in someone else. Perhaps the light tone around the religious symbol of the virgin or lack of respect for country singers might put some people off. While the example of this bio for a friend could be considered trivial, the point remains – the same words can bring comfort and connection to one while evoking a sense of threat or fear in another. It all comes down to personal experience and interpretation.
Before we think about language specifically, let’s consider how our brains use experience to make interpretations in general. First, the brain has an important function to keep the body safe. It does this not by reacting to something unsafe in the moment, but by trying to figure out whether a given circumstance may become unsafe. The nature of the brain is predictive, humming steadily in the background of every waking moment, assessing the current situation (inside the body and all around) and comparing that to everything ever experienced. When the combination of all inputs is most like something that was threatening in the past, the brain predicts threat, there’s a release of chemical compounds in our system, and the body is primed to deal with the danger. The inverse is true for situations that may potentially meet a resource need. The brain predicts the current situation is most like something in the past that was beneficial, a different suite of neurotransmitters is released, priming brain and body for connection. Our brains try to predict the near future based on experiences of our past. All. The. Time.
What does this have to do with words and an old friend? Well, it turns out our brains are doing very similar background checks on everything we read and hear. Remember, words and phrases are already symbols of ideas and many of these ideas hold very personal meanings for us based on our experience. When words cross our path that hold certain associations, our brains make predictions that affect our bodies and prepare us for threat or connection. And this holds true not just for words, but everything between and around the words - our perception of tone, intonation and patterns of speech in general. Your brain is doing it right now, trying to figure out where ol’ Gare is taking this meander of a newsletter.
We’re always exploring the language of our Teach Resilience content. While we know the main thrust of our course work is around the power of people and communities to grow in resilience, we know some of our subject matter has a heaviness about it. While we don’t focus on trauma too deeply, it is a very real part of our teaching. That word trauma itself can be a trigger. Trigger can be another, well, bit of language that prompts a threat response. Speaking of trigger, it seems that many idioms in the English language are violent in nature, based around war, conflict and firearms – take a shot at it, that’s overkill, fire off an email, and pick your battles to name a few. This kind of language is everywhere and some of it has worked its way into our visuals and verbal delivery. How could it not?
Every few sessions, somehow will draw our attention to something that troubled them or maybe suggest something for us to consider. One person sent along a graphic entitled ‘evolving from violent language’ by Anna Taylor. I haven’t adopted all of Taylor’s suggestions, but I’ve incorporated some into daily conversations and formal presentations. If you take even a cursory look into the internet commentary on this piece, you’ll notice a lot of contributors contesting and belittling some of the suggestions. Obviously, there’s some larger social issues at work here and I am not ready to wade into it all. But, in terms of the brain and predictions, it’s all there; the author has difficulty with certain figures of speech as it relates to her and others’ experience and suggests alternatives, the alternatives evoke connection responses in some, and the act of expressing alternatives (or even the need to consider alternatives) prompts a threat response in others. Or, if you’re like me, your brain is doing a bit of both.
Let’s bring this big ol verbal jet airliner in for a landing. Our brains are doing the prediction thing with everything that happens around us, including the words we read, hear and speak. These predictions drive a bodily response for threat or connection. Experience and interpretation are both individual and a collective processes. It’s important to remember variation is the norm – even within communities with similar experience, no one set of words will be universally accepted as safe or threatening. We at Teach Resilience have been thinking through these kinds of things and adjusting along the way. Thank you for reaching out to help us think more deeply about the things we say. We invite you to consider the language you use and how it may be affecting the people around you.
Reach out if you’d like to chat words sometime.
Stay curious,
Garry