Understanding Communication

“My songwriting is like extending a hand to the listener.” - Dave Grohl

People were angry. Young men were dying. Segregation had found ways to hang on. Riots raged from California to New Jersey and from Michigan to Mississippi. Men were taking their first steps into space and women weren’t allowed to run in the Boston Marathon. A President had been killed and a civil rights icon was about to be. 

Aretha Franklin was nineteen years old in 1966 when she got dropped by her record label. The needs of her two boys, aged 5 and 7, intensified the pressures. Up to that point in her life, things had been difficult. Her mother died when she was 10 and, with an overbearing father, her life had not been her own.

In her quiet moments she reflected on a budding, but struggling career. She worried about her responsibilities as a mother and battled the forces of a traumatic childhood. At a personal level all she wanted was a little respect. Respect from her record label. Respect from her father. Respect from society. 

Despite the decision by Columbia Records, she could, however, sing. She sang gospel throughout her life and her profile had been boosted by her father’s very public role as a well-known pastor. Things weren’t easy though and she needed a break, in every sense. 

Since its original release in 1965 by Otis Redding, Aretha had performed the song “Respect” as a filler in her small-ish concerts. She added her own flavor, her own feeling and her own twist on the lyrics. She sang it well. His song, her soul. 

The original lyrics were written from the perspective of a man coming home from work and asking for appreciation from his wife and family. The song achieved some commercial success rising to respectable places in the charts. 

However, Otis Redding’s recording of the song was a bit slow, a little bland and not very unique. It wasn’t inspiring. Importantly, for that time, it didn’t touch the deepest levels of the uncertainty people felt but couldn’t express. It didn’t provide a voice for what they knew to be true but couldn’t necessarily explain. It didn’t communicate more than words.

Tosh Newman discusses how to craft and communicate a message with Jackson Grown Leader Fellows. He shares his personal story about the loss of a friend and how he has captured audiences with an important message about suicide prevention in the song “Heaven don’t need you yet”.

Communication is most often thought to be synonymous with “telling”. A boss sends an email telling an employee to do a presentation. A mother calls upstairs and tells the child to put his toys. A company, like Ford, makes an advertisement and tells its potential customers why their vehicle is the best. In each case and from each perspective, information was communicated. 

To what extent though do we define the success of communication through a lens of what is heard compared to what is told? Perhaps, not often enough. Are we judged on the immediate outcome (ie the delivered presentation, the clean room or the bought item)? Boxes checked.

Or, do we adequately appreciate the recurring outcome (the presentation redefining a company’s strategy, the child appreciating cleanliness or the passive car shopper becoming a lifelong Ford customer)? Did the audience feel it?

Communication is about helping that audience understand something new about itself, about what it could be instead of what it is. 

On Friday March 14th, the Jackson Grown Leader Fellowship explored communication as a dual act requiring both telling and inspiring. It concluded that telling something meant little if it wasn’t heard, felt and considered by the listener. 

In preparation for writing their speeches to deliver at the 2nd Annual Challenge to the City on May 12th, the Fellows met with local songwriter Tosh Newman and United Nations speechwriter and communications professional Jon Mark Walls. 

For the first time, many of the Fellows were encouraged to think about communication as an act of placing an audience in a story. It encouraged making the audience feel what they had not felt, inspiring the audience to think what they had not thought and consider what they had not considered. Fellows began to reflect on communication as an act of being heard as opposed to telling. 

One year ago, singer and songwriter Tosh Newman, a graduate of Jackson Central Merry High School, experienced tragedy. He lost a good friend to suicide. The causes were as drawn out and complex as the result was blunt and, tragically, simple. As he wrestled with the loss of the friend, his wife urged him to communicate what he was feeling. So, he wrote. He sang. A message emerged: “Heaven don’t need you yet”.

In his coping, Tosh was able to articulate feelings of compassion and a depth of understanding that goes beyond written lyrics. It is a message to those who have struggled with suicidal thoughts as well as those in the support networks around them. Given that 20% of people have had these thoughts, it is a message of support that needs to be both told and heard. 

During the meeting he spoke about how to capture an audience, the importance of keeping an audience’s attention and how to ensure that a message was understood. On stage with his guitar, Tosh sang “Heaven don’t need you yet” for the Fellows. It offered an example of how a powerful message can be communicated in a way that is powerfully non-abrasive and non-threatening. He offered tips on creating structure, repeating the core idea throughout the delivery and engaging with the audience on a personal level. 

For a 19-year-old African American woman in the 1960’s with two children, Aretha had a deep, very understandable need to feel respected. The complexity of the social, economic and political dynamics created an environment where this message resonated beyond her individual context. 

The audience was listening and they felt it at a personal level. It was felt by young men who could be drafted to go to war in Vietnam but could not vote. It was felt by women trying to establish themselves in the workplace. It was felt by African Americans continuing to struggle under a lack of enforcement of the Civil Rights Act. 

After signing with Atlantic records shortly after being dropped, Aretha began a new album in January 1967. Then, on Valentines Day, she recorded her version of what Rolling Stone would name the number 1 greatest song of all time: “Respect”.

The reframing and repositioning of the song to be sung by an African American woman was a powerful adjustment which created a powerful message. People heard it. More importantly, people felt it. Everyone felt it. 

On May 12th, the Fellows will speak at the 2nd Annual Jackson Grown Challenge to the City. Having worked hard with subject experts and professionals and bringing together new skills in speechwriting, communication and public speaking, Fellows will stand in front of leaders from across the community. 

Having worked with the team of mentors at Jackson Grown, the goal will be to go beyond telling. That is a relatively easy box to check. The Fellows aim to ensure that the audience will experience the message, that it will be heard and understood. Topics will range from how to improve public spaces and the need to improve mental health services to offering new opportunities for youth and taking steps to further address hunger. Most importantly, they will communicate their own personal stories, reflect on their experiences and invite attendees to come along with them on that journey.


Indeed, communication is the art of being heard. Otis Redding’s rendition of “Respect” was listened to and made a dent in the charts. It was a good check in a fairly difficult box. Aretha Franklin's version of the song however redrew the box. Her message was heard. 

We see that whether in a speech or a song, effective communication relies on bringing the audience into a new space. Whether it is in a boardroom, a play room or a car showroom, it is about more than the immediate request (making a PowerPoint, picking up toys or buying a car). It is about helping that audience understand something new about itself, about what it could be instead of what it is.

  

Jon Mark Walls