Why it’s very good to talk

It’s the school holidays at the time of writing this column and I, too, have been out and about more than usual. Somewhat guiltily and much to the irritation of my youngest daughter, I am a self-confessed people-watcher – it’s endlessly interesting and very enlightening – but recently, a little more perturbing than usual. My fascinating visits to a variety of places on the London to-do list have been punctuated by sneaky cups of coffee, a casual supper and a very nice (shared) cream tea. Over the rim of the cup or wine glass, I’ve spotted a large number of seemingly silent families. This observation and social comment is nothing new, but just seemed to be even more abundant and obvious. I am sure that you can picture the scene: mum, dad and one/ two/three children around a table eating ‘together’, but no conversation, no eye contact, each with fork in one hand, phone in the other and eyes on screen.

On another day, one small boy with dad in tow walked past us in a department store. He was busily chatting to his father (hurray!), but in his hand was a newly bought container of fresh pineapple and in the other a wooden fork shoved unceremoniously into his mouth.

Now, I do admit that these anecdotes sound like the rantings of a grumpy middle aged woman. Perhaps they are, but they have, more importantly, caused me to consider the results of my people watching in a more professional context. Every week, we take calls in the voice from parents who are concerned about the quality of their child’s comprehension exercises: their essay writing, their vocabulary, verbal reasoning and indeed their interview technique. We can obviously offer them suitable and high-quality tuition, and help on how they can best support their child at home. Whilst all this can be, and is, very helpful, the obvious can sometimes be missed. Ultimately, the benefits of family conversations over a shared meal are enormous. I am not unrealistic and, indeed, have lived through the demands of both parents working and three children with active extra-curricular and busy social lives in our own home. Equally, I have seen, both as a parent and professionally, that learning to listen, to share different views and express opinions, to hear new vocabulary naturally – and to laugh together – over a shared meal are hugely valuable, both socially but also academically.

Throughout history, the sharing of meals – the breaking of bread – has been a vital part of society. I am probably preaching to the converted, but let’s start a campaign to sit round a table to restore the value of family meals, even if only at weekends and in cafes and restaurants: put down the phones and let’s talk to each other – and, you never know, you might even save money spent on tuition.