Words That Warm

There are words that strike and there are words that warm. Words have this magical power to transform the energy within us, around us, and between us. One of my favorite heroes, Maya Angelou became one of the most intentional wordsmiths of our time yet when she was a child she chose silence when words felt unsafe. She understood the power of words deeply. To her, words mattered because they shaped safety, they shaped belonging, and they shaped humanity. She once said “Words are things. You must be careful, careful about calling people out of their names…Someday we’ll be able to measure the power of words. I think they are things. They get on the walls. They get in your wallpaper. They get in your rugs, in your upholstery, and your clothes, and finally into you.”

Think back to a time when someone told you words that felt like a warm hug. Not a polite comment or a passing “nice job” but words that landed right in your heart center––unexpected, specific, and true. Words that warmed you from the inside out and stayed with you long after they were spoken. Maybe they came at exactly the moment you needed them. Maybe they named something in you that you hadn’t yet learned to see for yourself. Those moments change us.

At Acton, we believe those moments don’t have to be accidental, they can be practiced. Learners regularly practice feedback––warm and cool––as part of daily life. They offer warm-cool-warm critiques on writing and projects, celebrate character through Friday Character Callouts, and engage in honest reflection during Journey Meetings with peers, parents, and Guides. Still, we’ve noticed something important…while learners are often quick to critique, truly seeing the good –and naming it out loud–takes practice. Warm words are hard.

So, during this session’s Art of Etiquette Quest our team leaned into something deceptively simple and profoundly human: the art of a genuine compliment.

This session all learners played a game called Compliment Carousel. Round and round the music played and learners moved. When the music stopped one learner offers a compliment using a simple framework: “_______, I noticed you_______. I appreciate that because _____. I call that [character quality].”

Before the game there were groans, hesitation, and awkwardness yet in true Acton fashion learners tried anyway. The first round was a bit clumsy and tricky to come up with ideas. The carousel spun again and compliments grew clearer, eyes started lighting up, and learners stood taller. The second round, the music started and when it stopped learners publicly complimented across the carousel while others listened. It was during this round that the room changed. It felt warmer, fuller, safer, almost as if the space itself was glowing and so were the learners.

Learners shared…

“I noticed you help your friends with their work even when you have your own to-do list. I appreciate that because I wouldn’t have got all my Math percentage and I really counted on you. I call that generous.”

“I noticed you check in with me when I’m down and we play Chess. I appreciate that because it makes me feel better. I call that kind.”

“I noticed you share a lot more in discussions. I appreciate that because you have good ideas. I call that brave.”

This is what makes Acton special. Yes, learners work hard and learn how to work. Yes, they build skills, systems, and projects. But just as intentionally, they practice being human––noticing goodness, naming it, and offering it out loud. They practice gratitude, care, and how to make others feel seen.

This Etiquette Quest wasn’t about creating perfectly mannered children. It was about cultivating awareness of how we show up, how we gather, how we care for one another, and how small acts of thoughtfulness shape belonging. Learners also practiced writing handwritten notes, invitations, and thank-you cards– learning that personal touches matter and that words chosen with care can become gifts in themselves.

As we move deeper into winter, a season that can feel cold, dark, hurried, and full, warmth matters more than ever. I invite you to practice offering warmth first. Share an artful compliment with your child. Write a note or say the thing you notice. Watch what happens, not just in them but in you, and in the space between.

Words that warm have the power to change a day and sometimes they change the world.