Helen Washington

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how to ask better questions

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Ecclesiastes 3: 11 (NIV)

With the presence of falling leaves, our family has begun to experience a few milestones and  “last” things surrounding Caleb’s senior year.

We have walked our feet across a soccer field to celebrate seniors’ night, opened and closed umbrellas watching the final game, and applauded during a Covid (unfriendly) soccer banquet.

We have strolled campuses both near and far, checked off senior portraits, and by week’s end,  a cap and gown will be ordered.

It is all a part of the senior year line-up. 

It is all a part of gradually releasing a precious soul into the next steps in life.

It is about surprisingly not crying when assumed and finding my voice catch out of nowhere.

It is all about cheering more than worrying. 

This is our third time traversing this final year of high school with a child emerging into adulthood. Each time has been different yet carries the same sense of baffling wonderment about arriving at this juncture.

Each day,  I remind myself how apt it was to choose the words “be present” to carry me through this passage of time. 

As much as the emphasis of this space is about one person completing their education, I have found myself in need of additional schooling in the area of asking questions.


Early in the fall, I happened to be in close proximity to two sets of parents having a conversation. I wasn’t eavesdropping, I promise.

The first set asked the second set about their child’s college plans. The parents spoke with great enthusiasm and energy as they rattled off a list of schools, then reciprocated the question. Now it was the other set of parents turn to speak into the air a different list and as each name was uttered, I could visually see the listening parents’ shoulders begin to sag and the air seemed to seep slowly from their balloon of joy. The conversation continued for a few more moments but there was suddenly a different edge to the collective tenor. 

The question is natural and reflexive. After witnessing this parental exchange and heightening unease,
I came to the determination, I need to ask better questions.
We need to ask better questions, ones that unite without creating fissures.

What if we replaced “What colleges are you applying to?” with “How is the senior year going?” 

Not everyone wants or will attend college. 

By asking an open-ended question, more possibilities arise to learn about the student in question. Maybe they have their first job or have discovered a new hobby. Maybe they are the first chair in their orchestra. Or perhaps can’t hide their excitement about being in-person at school after endless months before a screen.

Who knows what will be discovered by asking a question meant to connect without erecting a barrier.

What if we replaced “Where do you work?” with “What is the best or most challenging part of your day?”.

Not everyone is paid for their work. But most people work hard every day.

What if we replaced “When are you going to have a baby?” with “What adventures do you enjoy?”

Not everyone desires to be a parent or they may, but it has come with challenges. 

What if we stopped asking “What neighborhood do you live in?” and inquired with curiosity, “Where is your favorite go-to restaurant?”. 

Not everyone’s zip code accurately depicts the richness of the community.

I am challenging myself to stop asking knee-jerk questions and to be more creative, thoughtful, and kind. 

Each of these types of questions has caused me to think about my life.

I had no idea at 18, the answer to the default questions lofted my direction.

I had thoughts and hopes and faith, all in infancy.

I could never have imagined the conditions and route of the path I would tread upon.

Every answer escaping my lips was simply my best guess or a wish, an attempt to be the architect of my life. 

Upon reviewing my history, I am confident a building of my own making would not have survived the quakes of life as I would have drafted straight lines when a curve was warranted. 



How can you reword the questions you ask others this week?


What questions cause you to cringe? 


How can you be an agent to change those cringe-worthy questions into bridge-building inquiries?


May the questions launched this week be ones that cause the hearer to lean in opposed to drawing back.