To be a good conversationalist, it goes without saying, one has to be a good listener because a sharp ear often precedes a versatile tongue. On more than one occasion I have heard people say, “I’m just hopeless at conversing.” In a few instances, that may be due to shyness but in most cases the reason is that they haven’t been giving enough attention to what the other person’s been saying. Other people, however, will assert that they, “enjoy a good conversation.”

Quite often I’ve found that some of these actually fall under what I call ‘the chatterbox’ category. They enjoy prattling on as long as they have an audience. As anyone would agree, this is not conversation. It is simply one person filling (or drilling) the ears of another.

A lot of schools have the teaching of ‘conversation skills’ factored into their curricula. But in the end it comes down to personal skills; how quickly, or easily, a learner can make an art of it. With practice, of course.

When I was in school there was no time to hide behind shyness or reticence. Shyness couldn’t be offered up as an excuse. In fact, if it was, it became imperative that such ‘a drawback’ (as it was viewed) be erased from the personality. A simple way of ‘erasing’ it would be by thrusting the person more and more into the limelight. Centre stage. So if you admitted to being shy you found yourself more often in the spotlight, finding a way to loosen your tongue. But to get back to some of the skills involved in conversing: a good ear, as mentioned earlier. Then, engagement with your speaker/companion. Eye-to-eye contact. (Very difficult if one is inhibited, introverted.) For it is believed that the earnestness of your body language in showing that you are listening closely will elicit a similar response when you get your turn to speak, and in this way two people become ‘engaged’ with each other.

This is sometimes referred to as non-verbal listening. A few examples of poor non-verbal listening include glancing at the time (when the other person is speaking) or letting your eyes wander over other things (indicating distraction or impatience.)

A further skill is to let your conversation companion know you’re following what he’s saying by uttering a few interjections at frequent intervals: these might include short phrases or sentences such as: ‘Oh, I see.’ Or, ‘Ah, yes,’ Or, ‘Okay.’ Or, ‘That’s right.’

In Australia, some of the common interjections include, ‘You’re right.’ Or, ‘You reckon?’ Or, ‘No way!’ Or, ‘You serious?’ Or, ‘Too true.’ Or, sometimes just the one word, such as ‘Wicked!’ Or, ‘Sweet’ – where ‘wicked’ doesn’t have anything at all to do with ‘evil’ and ‘sweet’ has no connection with ‘sugar, honey or saccharine.’

Interjections such as these are difficult at the best of time but the difficulty is compounded when they have to be taught to immigrants whose first language isn’t English. There’s scope for serious complications here. A.C., a migrant from Europe, recently got his responses in practice mixed up. He was given ‘My goodness!’, ‘No Way’, ‘Sweet’, ‘How lovely’ and ‘Wicked’ to choose from, to respond to two sentences spoken by a conversational role-playing partner. The first sentence was, ‘I was swimming yesterday when I spotted a shark.’ The second sentence was, ‘I saw an exciting movie on television last night.’

A.C’ s response to the first was ‘How lovely’ and to the second, unhesitatingly, ‘No way!’

A lot of this was brought to mind just the other day when I was sat leaning backward in the dentist’s chair, mouth wide open, cheeks padded with cotton and the dentist’s assistant busy beside draining saliva from my mouth via a tube; and the dentist, casual as you like, carrying on a conversation with me and waiting at suitable intervals for my interjections.

I mean, what could I say, really? Apart from issuing a few grunts which only stimulated the conversation further?

Kevin Martin is a journalist based in Sydney, Australia.