Homespun wisdom

THIS column comes as a cusp between Mother’s Day/Women’s Month in May, and Father’s Day in June as we honor mothers and fathers whose experiences in life have shaped and influenced the next generation. Theirs are the hands that rock the cradle, gender equality-stated.

And with the generations, come those of us who have chosen to make communication our field of expertise and our profession.

The keyword that comes to mind is “homespun wisdom” defined as “simple and not learned from books,” “straightforward and easy to understand,” “makes sense.” (https://www.macmillandictionary.com/us/dictionary/american/)

Sometimes we get trapped in too many complicated thoughts, options and scenario building; too immersed in so much data, messages, trends, pressures, macro concerns, and minute and incessant details.

When this happens, it may be the best time to return to the roots of effective communication. And, that a way to stay calm and balanced, is still going back to basics and foundations, back to what we have learned or what our earlier generations have learned, in times left to our own humanity, without the devices of today.

Sometimes, especially in difficulties, we dismiss these inner, nagging albeit sensible thoughts that surface again and again, as lacking in science, substance or basis. We forget sometimes that our being human and being communicators still have a lot of unexplored dimensions, some explainable, others not.

Data and humanity

I FIRST encountered the term “homespun wisdom” from a Harvard-educated scholar and doctorate graduate with highest honors who was a senior executive in the company where I was. He was a scholar in culture, history and the arts. He wrote most excellently, was a history major, and was our company’s historian on top of his heading our diverse human resources group.

I thought of him as a renaissance man as he crunched numbers and understood the human spirit effortlessly together. It was he who would, in defining moments, acknowledge a piece of advice as homespun wisdom and proceed to resolve the issue with that in mind, parallel with the data.

He and I had common experiences performing in our respective school’s choirs as students, and having an interest in writing and editing, as at that time I was corporate editor and doing multiple publications and communication management. We worked together especially for special projects.

Impeccably mannered, honest and educated, he epitomized what we especially value today as a respect for the other, regardless of rank or stature in life. As we worked together, not once did he make me feel less in rank than him. He always addressed each employee with courtesy, always asking if a decision was a fair one. For someone who pored over voluminous documents, treatises, compedia and facts and data, I found it interesting that he recognized and valued homespun wisdom.

‘In time, you will.’ BACKTRACKING, as a child, I remember asking my mother, a former teacher, why she could cut paper straight without drawing a line as a guide. I would draw a line in pencil and still struggle with cutting the paper cleanly.

She replied, “In time, you will.”

And she was right, in time, I can now cut paper straight without drawing a line, although I still sometimes fold the paper a bit at times as a guide, but no longer with a pencil-drawn line. I used to ask her how she knew certain things and she would reply that experience counts and it would be over time.

For my part, I look back to the homespun wisdom that my 94-year-old Mom still clearly has as a cornerstone that keeps me grounded. Many times, I turn to that cornerstone for strength, drive and optimism. I remember her consoling me during one trying day, simply, with these words: “Tomorrow is another day.”

And so for life, I always look forward to the sunrise, for a new day to rise above adversities. She never put it dramatically, but her words, said with gentleness and quiet conviction, always give me strength.

Walking home at dusk

MY father never preached to us. Instead, he lived his life in moments I will always remember for the unspoken wisdom and kindness in it. He lived a life of service to others, even for those he didn’t know.

I remember we had just moved to a new home in a subdivision reached at the far end of a highway of cogonlined roads and sparse public transportation. One day, as the sun was setting, going home from school, we chanced upon two young boys and their female companion (their nanny/yaya) who were walking along the roadside. The boys were in their school uniform trying their best to keep pace moving forward, and their yaya was lugging along their school bags.

My Dad stopped the ride we were in and asked them where they were going. They said they were left by the school bus and decided to walk home, which was quite a long way! My Dad introduced us to reassure them of our trustworthiness, and offered to bring them home. While in our vehicle, we shared with them the snack we were munching on (which the boys ate with gusto, they must have been exhausted from the trek), as the yaya gave directions to my Dad to where they lived.

When we reached their home, the boys’ father opened the door and was so surprised to see us. Unthinkable today, but at that time, there were no cell phones, and it being a newer developed suburb, there were hardly any landlines! So when one left for school, one just had to trust that the kids would safely go home.

I don’t remember the names of the boys and their family, nor where their home was anymore. But what I do remember, now as a parent, was that heart-stopping and alarming sight of two small, elementary boys in school uniform walking home along a long, near desolate, cogon-lined highway as the sun was setting. They would not have made it back home in time before darkness set in. And the long stretch of road was bereft of streetlights.

My Dad didn’t pontificate to us about it. He just lived his life of service.

Thus, the homespun wisdom that words are words, but what we do in times of need and duress, especially for others, are what matter most. And that was what became an adage of sorts for me as a communicator and professional later on.

Thunderstorms

STILL back at our new home, there were hardly any other houses as the area was being developed. Our area was elevated and so when thunderstorms struck which seemed to be often in the rainy season, you could see the lightning cutting across the sky (there were no high buildings back then) and sometimes hear it hit the lone street light down the road. You could hear the angry thunder in its rawest and most terrifying level. Our place being a bungalow, you had no other level to filter the sound. And if the lights went off, you simply had to hang on until the thunderstorm ended. Unperturbed, my petite paternal grandmother would walk in her slow shuffle, and turn to me and say as the thunderstorm raged, “Just pray” and proceed to light a candle and calmly go to her room. And true enough, even before the lighted candle finished burning, the thunderstorms would end.

I remember those two words that I always turn to. Wisdom and courage from an 87-year old petite grandmother who would not be bullied by thunderstorms. A balance to turn to AS a communicator, especially in this age today of artificial intelligence that continues to spark anxiousness and questions on its role, impact and usage, it may be best to do both—study and understand these developments. Then, back it up with the basics, the homespun wisdom to take on the journey that this new world of data and intelligence is taking us.

It may be time to go back to the wisdom borne of experience, to the wisdom borne of reflecting on what has happened and picking up the messages and lessons it brings. It’s that sensible voice whether from parents, mentors, and even from the youth, that keeps us balanced.

PR Matters is a roundtable column by members of Ipra Philippines, the local chapter of the United Kingdom-based International Public Relations Association, the world’s premier association for senior communications professionals around the world. Ritzi VillaricoRonquillo, APR, IABC Fellow is a Consultant, Coach and Speaker on Business Communication and Strategic Public Relations with 43 years of experience in leading internal and external communication and PR in corporate, communities, academe and associations.

We are devoting a special column each month to answer the reader’s questions about public relations. Please send your comments and questions to askipraphil@gmail.com.