There were so many moments in my life when I had to say exactly the right thing—or someone was going to die. That’s not a metaphor. I’ve stood on rooftops with jumpers, my voice the last thread keeping them tethered to this world. I’ve told parents their children weren’t coming back. I’ve negotiated with men holding knives and women in absolute despair. I’ve had to be eloquent, empathetic, commanding, and utterly composed—while sirens blared, while my own heart broke.
So when I tell you that sometimes I still freeze in everyday conversation, I want you to understand—this isn’t about skill. This is about being human.
We stumble. We hesitate. We ramble. We go silent. We try to say what we mean, and it comes out sideways.
And I’ve been thinking: what if something could help us in those moments—not after, but during?
That’s the seed of what I’m about to show you.
I’m not trying to sell you anything. I don’t want your money. I’m not pitching a startup or launching an app. I’m putting this out there because I believe it should exist, and I don’t want to die knowing I kept this one to myself.
The Idea
A real-time, in-ear AI communication coach—powered by something like ChatGPT, running through your AirPods or whatever you already wear in your ears.
It listens to both sides of a conversation. It stays out of the way. But when you freeze, stumble, overshare, or veer into a ditch—it gently whispers you back onto the road.
It might say:
“You’ve said enough. Let it land.”
“Pause here.”
“Try: ‘I hear what you’re saying, but here’s how I see it.’”
“You don’t need to apologize. You’re doing fine.”
No scripts. No coaching voice. No clunky UI.
Just a soft, timely nudge from something that knows what you meant to say—and helps you say it before the moment passes.
Why This Matters
Because some of us have been silenced by trauma. Some of us speak too much when we’re scared. Some of us speak too little because we’ve been told we’re too much.
And some conversations—the real ones—don’t come with a rewind button.
This isn’t about improving performance. It’s about preserving dignity.
It’s about helping people say what they mean when it matters most.
And no, I don’t mean “boosting sales calls” or “increasing leadership gravitas.”
I mean a trans girl trying to come out to her mom. I mean a woman in a courtroom advocating for herself without legal representation. I mean a neurodivergent kid at their first job interview, trying not to say “sorry” after every damn sentence.
This technology shouldn’t be built to make people more palatable. It should be built to help them feel safe being themselves.
How It Would Work (In Plain Terms)
You wear your earbuds like normal (AirPods, bone-conduction, whatever).
It listens to you and the person you’re speaking to.
It detects pacing, tone shifts, hesitation, emotional spikes, awkward phrasing, confusion.
It responds with short, in-ear nudges or phrases: suggestions, corrections, soft reminders.
You stay in control. You can ignore it, silence it, or take the help when you need it.
Visual Mockup
This is just a basic concept. I’m not a UX designer. But you get the idea.
It’s subtle. Minimalist. It doesn’t interrupt or dominate.
It waits. It listens. And when you’re ready, it helps.
Ethical Boundaries
If you’re going to build this—and someone will—you need to follow some rules:
No surveillance. Don’t store recordings unless the user chooses to.
No behavioral profiling. This isn’t a f**king social credit score.
No monetizing emotion. Don’t upsell people based on their insecurity.
No bullshit. Say what the thing does. Don’t pretend it’s a therapist or a friend.
This is a tool for dignity. Not data collection.
It should serve the user—not the company that owns the servers.
The Whisper License (v1.0)
You can build this. I’m not going to. I’m not interested in control. But if you do build it, I ask one thing: do it right.
Here’s the deal:
You are free to build this concept, provided:
You prioritize privacy, consent, and non-exploitative design.
You don’t manipulate, shame, or “optimize” users for performance.
You don’t store or analyze conversations for third-party use.
You clearly credit the origin of this idea as: “Concept and original ethics framework by Emily Pratt Slatin (rescuegirl557.com)”
You don’t use this to increase “engagement,” “retention,” or extract ad value.
You give users the power to mute, pause, review, and delete everything.
This is not a legal document. It’s a moral one.
Don’t be a leech. Don’t be Meta. Build something with a soul, or walk away.
Final Words
Aside from having this idea, I don’t want credit. I don’t want clout. I don’t want a seat at your table.
I just want someone to remember that this idea came from a woman who once carried transplant hearts through gridlocked city streets, who talked people out of ending it all, who’s lived more lives than she ever thought she’d survive—and who still sometimes can’t find the right words.
This idea wasn’t born from ambition. It was born from longing.
Longing to help people say what they mean—and be heard, fully, without apology.
If this sparks something in you—take it. Run with it. Just build it like you care.
Because somewhere out there, someone’s about to have the hardest conversation of their life. And a whisper—just a whisper—might make all the difference.
—Emily Pratt Slatin (She/Her) emily@rescuegirl557.com Former Career Fire and EMS Lieutenant-Specialist, Writer, and Master Photographer. Proud lesbian. RescueGirl557.com Middletown Springs, Vermont, United States
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