Why Every Great Communicator Is a Great Listener First

I still remember sitting in a crowded conference hall one summer during a media and journalism program. One of the most respected journalists in the country had come to speak to us about what makes journalism truly great. She said a lot of insightful things that day, but there was one line that stuck with me, and probably always will.

She said, “The best communicators start off as great listeners.”

At first, I didn’t really understand what she meant. I thought being a good communicator was about how well you could speak, how confident your voice sounded, how clearly you could express your point, how engaging your story was. Listening didn’t seem like the main skill. But as I got more involved in journalism and began doing interviews and stories myself, I realized just how right she was.

The best stories I’ve ever told were the ones I almost missed, because I wasn’t just hearing the words being said, I was listening for what wasn’t.

One of the most eye-opening experiences for me came when I met a woman named Sylvia while volunteering at a local food pantry. It was a hot summer day, and I was helping distribute watermelons door-to-door for families in need. When I got to Sylvia’s door, she smiled politely but said very little. I asked her a few casual questions about the food program, but she looked down, avoiding eye contact. For a moment, I considered moving on. But something about the silence made me pause.

Instead of filling the quiet with small talk, I decided to wait. And after a few seconds, Sylvia began to speak, not just about the food she received that day, but about her entire experience living with food insecurity. She told me about the challenges she faced affording fresh produce, how rising costs made it impossible to buy healthy food, and how many families she knew were struggling silently. She said most people stopped talking about it because they felt unheard.

That moment changed everything for me. I realized that so many stories go untold not because people don’t have anything to say, but because no one’s listening long enough for them to say it.

Since that day, I’ve learned to appreciate the power of silence. Sometimes the most meaningful parts of a conversation happen after the question, in that pause when someone decides whether or not they can trust you with their truth. Listening isn’t passive, it’s active, intentional, and deeply human.

In journalism and storytelling, listening transforms how you see the world. It turns interviews into conversations, subjects into people, and stories into something living and real. When you really listen, you’re not just collecting quotes, you’re understanding emotion, context, and depth.

That summer conference taught me about the power of words. But Sylvia taught me something even more valuable: that the stories worth telling often come from the moments when you stop talking. Every great communicator, I’ve come to believe, starts there, with open ears, open eyes, and a genuine willingness to hear before being heard.