Lesson MMS-2

Welcome! Please consider how your attitude affects your and other students' experiences of the lesson. 

Be respectful, come prepared, and show interest to have the best possible educational experience. 

Lesson goals

Learn about ... and to ... and understand what ...

Lesson activities

Basic: warm-up

Intermediate: introduction lecture

Advanced: ...

During this lesson, you will:

  • Identify Monroe's Motivated Sequence in speeches in order to improve listening comprehension.

Lesson outline

Basic exercises: homework, warm-up and vocabulary

Intermediate exercise: listening

Advanced exercises: discussion and writing

Exit ticket and homework.

Basic exercises


Time for the activity: 5 minutes

  • In groups, tell each other about your homework. What did you do and how was it?

  • Then, summarise your experiences and prepare to share them with the rest of the class.

Speech discussion and vocabulary

Time for the activitites: ~5-10 minutes

You are going to watch the speech "Love letters to strangers", which key themes are:

  • letter-writing, social media, strangers, love

What do you think the talk will be about? Try using some of the vocabulary from the speech.

  • Scribble - klotter

  • Unkempt - misskött

  • Sucker-punched - oväntat slag

  • Tucked - stoppa, (away) undanstoppat

  • Dozens - dussintals

  • To pose - ställa eller lägga fram

  • Morph - morf eller förvandla

  • Rural - lantlig eller rustik

  • Scriptings - skrivelser

  • Efficiency - effektivitet

  • Strategist - strateg

  • Unearth - avslöja

  • Ripple-effect - ringar-på-vattnet-effekt

  • Doodle - krumelur

Intermediate exercise

Listen to Love letters to strangers

Time for the activity: 5 min video + 5 min discussion

While listening, take notes on:

  1. What attention-grabber did the speaker use?

  2. What is the need (problem) that was addressed?

  3. How was the need satisfied?

  4. How was this visualised?

  5. What was the recommended action?


I was one of the only kids in college who had a reason to go to the P.O. box at the end of the day, and that was mainly because my mother has never believed in email, in Facebook, in texting or cell phones in general.

And so while other kids were BBM-ing their parents, I was literally waiting by the mailbox to get a letter from home to see how the weekend had gone, which was a little frustrating when Grandma was in the hospital, but I was just looking for some sort of scribble, some unkempt cursive from my mother.

And so when I moved to New York City after college and got completely sucker-punched in the face by depression, I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I wrote those same kinds of letters that my mother had written me for strangers, and tucked them all throughout the city, dozens and dozens of them.

I left them everywhere, in cafes and in libraries, at the U.N., everywhere. I blogged about those letters and the days when they were necessary, and I posed a kind of crazy promise to the Internet: that if you asked me for a hand-written letter, I would write you one, no questions asked.

Overnight, my inbox morphed into this harbor of heartbreak -- a single mother in Sacramento, a girl being bullied in rural Kansas, all asking me, a 22-year-old girl who barely even knew her own coffee order, to write them a love letter and give them a reason to wait by the mailbox.

Well, today I fuel a global organization that is fueled by those trips to the mailbox, fueled by the ways in which we can harness social media like never before to write and mail strangers letters when they need them most, but most of all, fueled by crates of mail like this one, my trusty mail crate, filled with the scriptings of ordinary people, strangers writing letters to other strangers not because they're ever going to meet and laugh over a cup of coffee, but because they have found one another by way of letter-writing.

But, you know, the thing that always gets me about these letters is that most of them have been written by people that have never known themselves loved on a piece of paper. They could not tell you about the ink of their own love letters.

They're the ones from my generation, the ones of us that have grown up into a world where everything is paperless, and where some of our best conversations have happened upon a screen.

We have learned to diary our pain onto Facebook, and we speak swiftly in 140 characters or less.

But what if it's not about efficiency this time? I was on the subway yesterday with this mail crate, which is a conversation starter, let me tell you. If you ever need one, just carry one of these.

And a man just stared at me, and he was like, "Well, why don't you use the Internet?"

And I thought, "Well, sir, I am not a strategist, nor am I specialist. I am merely a storyteller."

And so I could tell you about a woman whose husband has just come home from Afghanistan, and she is having a hard time unearthing this thing called conversation, and so she tucks love letters throughout the house as a way to say, "Come back to me. Find me when you can."

Or a girl who decides that she is going to leave love letters around her campus in Dubuque, Iowa, only to find her efforts ripple-effected the next day when she walks out onto the quad and finds love letters hanging from the trees, tucked in the bushes and the benches.

Or the man who decides that he is going to take his life, uses Facebook as a way to say goodbye to friends and family. Well, tonight he sleeps safely with a stack of letters just like this one tucked beneath his pillow, scripted by strangers who were there for him when.

These are the kinds of stories that convinced me that letter-writing will never again need to flip back her hair and talk about efficiency, because she is an art form now, all the parts of her, the signing, the scripting, the mailing, the doodles in the margins.

The mere fact that somebody would even just sit down, pull out a piece of paper and think about someone the whole way through, with an intention that is so much harder to unearth when the browser is up and the iPhone is pinging and we've got six conversations rolling in at once, that is an art form that does not fall down to the Goliath of "get faster," no matter how many social networks we might join.

We still clutch close these letters to our chest, to the words that speak louder than loud, when we turn pages into palettes to say the things that we have needed to say, the words that we have needed to write, to sisters and brothers and even to strangers, for far too long.

Thank you.

Advanced exercise

Group discussion

Time for the exercise: 10 minutes

Sit in groups, discuss the questions, take notes on your answers and repare to share your answers:

  1. When was the last time your wrote a letter by hand?

  2. What benefits do you think could come from handing out random love-letters?

  3. How would you feel if you received a love-letter from a stranger?

What would you tell in a love letter to a stranger?

Time for the exercise: 20 minutes

By yourself, write a letter:

  1. Write those ideas in a short letter (50-100 words)

  2. Record what you wrote on Flipgrid (Teams or QR-code).

  3. Put your letter in an envelope and then place it in a pile.

  4. When you leave the classroom, take a random letter.


Read about Monroe's Motivated Sequence and study the Quizlet.

Exit ticket

Today made me think a lot about ...