adamyntium

Category: people and relationships

  • How to lift up your laid-off friends

    How to lift up your laid-off friends

    There’s practically no wrong way (or time!) to reach out to someone who has been laid off; they’re almost certainly going to be happy just to hear from you.  But there’s also an option to be a super-awesome supporter 🙂

    By now we likely all know someone who was recently laid off and, understandably, we want to reach out in a respectful & effective way.  Often, though, we may not be quite sure what to say.  Or, worse, we procrastinate getting in touch and then later feel awkward about writing a ‘belated’ short note of support.

    Today I realized that fitness classes –  one of my ‘happy places’ – are actually instructive in this context!  Many of them have movements delineated as “Level 1” “Level 2” and so on, with level 1 being the minimal but important foundation (showing up and making even a small effort).  When reaching out to others, just the basic action itself (level 1) is meaningful and worthwhile!

    So with that said, here’s how I think about ‘levels’ when it comes to messaging someone who’s been laid off:

    Level 1: Say something. Anything. And at any time!

    EXAMPLE:
    “Hey, just wanted to let you know I miss you, and I’m really sorry about the situation!”

    I can’t imagine that any laid-off person is going to be ungrateful if your wording isn’t super-eloquent.  And I practically guarantee you they’re not going to turn up their nose because you wrote 6 weeks vs. 6 hours after they were axed. They’ll just be happy to hear from you, period. In fact, maybe even waiting a bit is a smart move — especially if you weren’t especially close — since laid off folks can get deluged with well-wishes initially but then weeks later… crickets.

    Level 2: Explicitly ask how (and when) you can help

    EXAMPLE:
    “Hi, [name], I’ve been thinking of you! Please let me know what I could do that’d be most helpful right now (or later)!”

    Note that this is a small but significant improvement over the more generic-sounding “I’m here if you need anything” or “Happy to help in any way I can”… because it’s more actionably worded:
    – It encourages vs. just casually welcomes the person to request help
    – It invites them to be specific about what they need
    – And it also makes it clear that you’re eager to help… even if they just want space now and help later!

    Level 3: Describe specific things you have valued about that person and/or suggest how you can help them

    EXAMPLE: 
    “Hey [name]! I’m really sorry about this crappy layoff situation. We all miss you and were reminiscing about how awesome you were for our team. You did such an incredible job retaining the [x] account with your smart, actionable ideas. And your presentation skills were amazing; I’ll never forget when you pitched to [exec] and got immediate approval for that huge project when no one else could win her over!

    I’m happy to write you an endorsement here about any of that, or even encourage [exec] to write one for you… would that be helpful? I also have some high level contacts at [other great company], let me know if you’d like me to connect you with one of them! Or just tell me what I can do for you, even if it’s just taking you out for drinks or mini-golfing or something; I’d love to see you!”

    I personally always found notes with specific examples to be really heartening because this accentuated that I was, indeed, a valued member to the team due to particular skills I brought to the table vs. just a nice person or someone who “worked hard”, etc.  Future employers will care a lot about the former, not so much about the latter, and being reminded that we are future-employable is great for peace of mind 🙂.

    You can choose any of the above options depending upon your relationship with the person, the expected incremental impact of your help, and, yes, the amount of time and energy you have at the moment.

    Just write something! Simply knowing that you thought of them will often make someone’s day.  (Hmm, that probably applies well beyond the layoff context as well, but I digress!)

    Ah, but where to send the message?

    LinkedIn is usually a safe and reasonable option in this space, but here are some other options:

    • Text:  Company directories may include phone numbers of employees who opted in to publishing them.  
    • Email:  You can often find someone’s email address via their web site if they have one or even via a plain web search.
    • Social media:  e.g., Twitter, Reddit, Facebook, or Instagram DM.  Do check whether the respective account is active vs. dormant, though.  A message sent to, say, an IG account that hasn’t been updated in 4 years is unlikely to be read.
    • Friend:  “Hey, [mutual colleague/friend], do you know a good way I can get in touch with [person]?”

    And lastly, after sending a message, realize that there’s a huge variance in what (and when) you could hear back!

    You might receive a heartfelt outpouring of emotions (from confused to sad to angry), a brusque “Thanks”, or even nothing at all.  Know that this is more of a reflection of that person’s current state of mind and energy level vs. what they feel about you or your note.  Take comfort in knowing that you did a good thing (thank you! 🙂)

    If you’ve been laid off, you almost certainly have your own take on all of this!  Does the guidance above match your preferences?  If not, how would you encourage folks to reach out?

  • So THIS is a *tiny* glimpse into being a minority…

    So THIS is a *tiny* glimpse into being a minority…

    She walked into the class and noticed right away that no other students looked like her.

    All men.  Many seemed to already be acquainted, or in a few cases, fast friends.  Clearly they’d been through similar classes before.

    And halfway through the class, her fears were realized; everyone was more experienced than she was.  More skilled.  More at ease.  More confident.

    She stumbled again.  What was she doing here?  She didn’t belong, and of course everyone knew it.

    What were they thinking?  Were they amused at how out-of-her-element she was?  Annoyed that she was taking up space that could have been filled with someone more competent, someone that belonged here?

    Were they staring at her?    No, wait, they were pretty much ignoring her.  For a moment, she was unsure whether she wanted to blend in or be just wholly invisible.

    And yet she came back to the class again the following week.

    “Hi,” she stammered to a couple of the guys.  Hmm, had she just interrupted their conversation?  Did they even hear her?  No response.

    Others were immersed in their phones. Let’s see, greet the new girl or read more Facebook posts?  Clearly no contest.

     

    She thought about not going back.  All those guys probably would probably be happier anyway if a lone girl wasn’t invading their space.  They’d feel more free to be themselves, to make guy jokes, to share guy gossip.  And she just wasn’t doing very well in the class anyway; she wasn’t cut out for this.  Yes, it was interesting, yes, the subject matter was fun, yes, she had just as much right to be there as anyone else.  But why persist where she wasn’t wanted?

     

    …

    Plot twist!  This was actually about a guy in a class that was otherwise 100% female-attended.  The class? A weekly ujam dance fitness workout.  The guy?  Me.

    Even crazier?  I was actually thinking and experiencing everything described above.

    Absolutely ridiculous, right?  I’m a white, middle-class guy who was taking a totally optional, pretty inconsequential group exercise class.  My livelihood wasn’t at stake.  This wasn’t about a college education or a job or anything else critical like that.  Not to mention that this was just a once-a-week thing.

    And as I thought about how embarrassingly ludicrous my feelings were, a lightbulb went on in my head:  Holy crap, these feelings… these worries… this discomfort… this was just an extremely tiny taste of what a lot of my black / Hispanic / female friends have faced regularly in their lives.  First day on the job as a software engineer.  At tryouts for a symphony orchestra position.  Attendee at a tech conference.  Faced with a sea of white faces–often predominantly male–wondering how others are judging them.  Oh, that Hispanic guy must be on the cleaning crew.  That woman is obviously booth babe, not a mechanical engineer.

    Every fricking week, maybe even every damn day they’re faced with crap like this.  And don’t even get me started about online harassment :\.

     

    On one hand, I laughed when I thought about how silly my “aw, poor Adam, feeling insecure in a gym class!” feelings were.  But then when I realized that this was just a very, very, very watered-down taste of what my friends regularly dealt with, it was no longer funny.  Just sad.

    Thankfully, I truly believe that–at least in the U.S.–the ‘younger generation’ is far more open-minded and embracing of diversity than the generations that came before it.  Interracial couples, close friends of different races, not just tolerance but full-on acceptance of gay marriage, and so on.

    But we shouldn’t have to wait for all of us old(er) farts to die off.  We should find a way to make more people feel welcome in every aspect of life, not only in hugely meaningful ways, but in small, mundane ways as well.  I’ve often winced when I’ve heard the phrase “check your privilege,” frankly, but perhaps we could all question our assumptions, force ourselves out of our comfort zones (in what we read, think, and do), and do our best to recognize how our preconceptions and fears can be hurting other people.  More positively, we could make more of a daily effort to be genuinely welcoming to individuals who don’t look like us.

    And yes, in the meantime, I’ve been continuing to go to ujam.  I still sometimes wonder whether people are secretly laughing at my body roll attempts (or my more literal body rolls), but now I smile when I consider how such trivial discomforts have sparked me to think a bit bigger… and to finally write another blog post here :).

    P.S. — Seeing the latest Disney movie, Zootopia, almost certainly played a role in spurring me to write this. What an amazing film in all respects, in no small part due to its sly, funny, and deeply thoughtful take on race relations, diversity, and related issues.  GO SEE IT!

    P.P.S. — My friend Rachel sent me a link to this cartoon which I think speaks volumes:

    racial-hurdles

     

    Anyone know where this is from? I’d love to link & give full credit (and yes, I Googled!)

  • People on Pedestals: Just Say No

    Question:  Why is sex on TV bad?
    Answer:  Because inevitably someone falls off and gets hurt.

    Okay, so that isn’t entirely relevant to this post, but now that I have your attention…

    Question:  Why shouldn’t you put people on pedestals?
    Answer:  Because inevitably, someone’s gonna fall, and you’ll both get hurt.  In another striking similarity, the whole situation is just painful for all involved.

    *  *  *

    Chapter 1

    I’m on an online dating site (yeah, yeah, get over it, you’ve likely been there, too).  One day I came across a profile of an attractive, deeply interesting, clearly talented singer-songwriter who seemed to be either a professional or semi-professional musician.  Wow!  As a pianist/composer myself, I generally connect well with and am very much interested in female musicians… and this one lives nearby me, too!  In the back of my mind, I was thinking… hmm, there’s something oddly familiar about this woman, but no matter.  People often say I look familiar, too; ‘sthe way of the world.  And the Bay Area is a surprisingly insular, small place in many ways, complete with highly overlapping Friend circles.

    Pushing beyond any self-doubting and/or procrastinatory tendencies, I wrote her a friendly message, mentioning that I’m a (admittedly mostly lapsed) musician, that I enjoy going to music performances, and I’d love to catch a show of hers sometime, yadda yadda.  Then I hit send.

    Of course, it was immediately after that that the nagging familiarity and curiosity got the better of me.  A few Google / Google Image searches later… kablam!  Holy crap, not only is she a famous artist, but I’ve attended her performances before.  Rightly or wrongly (almost certainly the latter with the benefit of hindsight) I felt like a total dolt, and wrote a quick followup message saying as much.  “OMG, can’t believe I didn’t recognize you” blah blah blah, “so embarrassed!” blah blah blah.

    She never wrote back.  Gee, that’s a surprise.  Who likes being put up on a pedestal, raise your hand!  No, no, not who loves the idea of being placed on a pedestal, but rather… who is already on one who isn’t damn sick and tired of the nervousness, the (in)sincere adulation, the awkward conversations, and so on?  I’m going to bet… not a soul.

    *  *  *

    Chapter 2

    Once again, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have gone out dancing that night.  Sure, it’s convenient — just a mile from work, and a 10 minute drive home from there.  Sure, it’s like that TV sitcom bar Cheers, where everybody knows my name and is (usually, I hope!) glad I came.  And yeah, admittedly I’ve found that — even when I’m in a pretty rotten mood — I’m better off lindy hopping than staying home and sulking.

    But this night was different, I suppose.  I was cranky, klutzy, and generally a touch on the asshole side of sarcastic.

    I decided to sit out a few songs and just take in the fun music, wait for a song I was guaranteed to gel with, etc.   Immediately to my left turned out to be some warm, good smelling pizza that was not mine.  This made me even more cranky, and perfectly primed to be a jerk when the owner of said food returned to claim her edible booty.  Yeah, she looked like a regular… couldn’t place the name, but I know I’d seen her before, probably danced with her.  Why not give her some crap? 🙂

    Me:  “Hey, you bring enough for everyone?”
    Her:  “Uh?”
    Me:  “Clearly not.  Well, fine, you’ll just owe me a dance later then.”

    Let me interrupt this to emphatically note to all aspiring & current social dancers that the above is…
    – Not a good pickup line
    – Not an appropriate way to fill your dance card
    – Not even remotely amusing

    As I said, I was cranky, and clearly in a non-witty frame of mind.

    Her:  “Oh!  Sure.  But I have promised this dance [to person she’s pointing to].  May I dance with you later?”
    Me:  “Of course, as long as you wash your hands after eating the pizza first”
    (Even then, the realization hit me that I was by this point indubitably being an ass)

    Surprisingly and undeservedly, she caught me later and asked me to dance.  Just a few moments in… whoa… look at that styling!!!   Okay, dammit, think… think… where do I know her from?  And why on earth did I stubbornly bypass the standard mutual-introduction ritual at the beginning of this dance? (probably because I was too embarrassed to risk an, “Adam!  We’ve danced for the last eighteen weeks and you’ve forgotten my name again?!”)

    By this point, I was definitely realizing that something was amiss.  Okay, somethings, plural.
    – She was far from the beginner I initially mistook her for.
    – My dancing was getting worse, not better throughout the course of the evening and sadly in particular throughout the course of this seemingly very long song.
    – I didn’t know if she was actually bored, but I sure wasn’t taking advantage of any of her amazing creativity, and if I were her, I’d have been bored stiff.

    At the end of the dance, I finally asked her for her name.  And then it was all I could do to avoid literally slapping my forehead.  As it turns out (yeah, I’m sure this is a shocker), she’s not only a highly experienced lindy hopper, but an internationally renowned one.

    I know now that that glimmer of recognition was likely from watching many of the dance videos she’s in online, including ones from major competitions she’s aced.

    I started to profusely apologize, but then caught myself.  I’d be even more of an asshole, I quickly and surprisingly realized, if I was super-nice to her now that I figured out she was a “celebrity” of sorts.

    And indeed, my remaining shred of smart intuition at that moment served me well.  We chatted for a bit after the dance, and she even filled me on where she was dancing next and didn’t seem in the least bit offended by my unwitty growliness.

    If anything, she was perhaps delighted that — for once — someone didn’t recognize her on the dance floor,  someone was asking her to dance without knowing of her status and fame.  She might even have been pleasantly amused that someone was being a tad jerky rather than obsequious in a first meeting with her.

    *  *  *


    Epilogue

    Was this entire blog post simply an excuse to post two random not-keenly-connected AdamAnecdotes?  Possibly.  I wouldn’t put it past me.

    But I instead prefer to think of these as humorous-but-cautionary tales, with handy directives and really good morals.  Namely…   Do not put people on a pedestal.  Everyone craves genuine connection, and it’s hard to connect when you’re down here and they’re up there.  And everyone is a multi-faceted human being, much more than the sum of their [movies / competition wins / etc], and they’re probably fed up with always having people chat them up about the obvious “famous” stuff, especially when they just feel like unwinding and being, well, a regular person.

    Obvious?  Sure.  But just wait until you’re face to face with Justin Bieber Vanna White 42 Cent Alan Smythie and see if you aren’t reflexively inclined to dumbly blurt out, “I loved you in…”

    Just say no.  Practice ahead of time.  You never know when you, too, will end up on a surprise allegorical date with a supermodel! 😮

    P.S. — You can probably piece together the identify of these two famous women.  Please, for the love of dog, be kind and don’t mention either of their names in the comments.  I’m embarrassed enough as it is, and there’s no need to make them embarrassed, too.  Thanks 🙂

  • Giving rather than offering

    Earlier this week, I was stuck in a queue on a couch at work, in between two friendly Googlers I’ll call Hanz and Gretel.

    Waiting, waiting, waiting, with more waiting to come.  There was a beer and baklava party downstairs, so I thoughtfully (I thought) offered to bring back both H&G some treats.  Both, after a brief pause, smiled and declined.

    I went, I saw, I brought back and ate while I continued my waiting with no Godot in sight.  Shortly thereafter, Hanz went downstairs and brought back two plates… one for himself and one, indeed, for Gretel.


    Gretel joyously beamed, warmly thanked Hanz, and dug in.

    I was puzzled and frustrated, and unceremoniously blurted out, “But… but I offered to bring some up to you just a few minutes ago!”

    In between bites, Gretel gave me a kindly but decisive look.

    “Yes,” she asserted, “But Hanz actually brought me some.”

    *  *  *

    I’ve pondered this situation and dialog again and again over the past few days, and I think the lesson learned is a simple but profound one.

    Don’t ask, do.

    Applies to so many things in life, and often takes little effort but means a lot.

  • Fashion vs. fit

    A friend of mine recently posted a note (sorry, not publicly accessible) asking people what they thought about fashion.  She’s quite the fashionista… and sadly, I am not.  Here, for your reading pleasure, is the comment I wrote in response to her note:

    *  *  *

    Sorry, but I pretty much think negatively of “fashion.”  I see the stuff people wear on catwalks, for instance, and I want to laugh or gag or both.  I see what “fashionable” people wear, particularly ones who push the envelope, and I think… gah, if my friend/family-member wore something like that, I’d hide in embarrassment.

    Now in contrast, there’s the concept of fit, which I think is very important (and is something I darn well should be paying better attention to).  Often times, I see what would otherwise be very attractive folks, for instance, wearing clothes that either accentuate a body flaw or failing to wear clothes that accentuate their body strengths.

    As a personal example:  I’m pretty short for a guy, so I should apparently not be wearing flashy belts or horizontally striped shirts or other stuff that separate the visual vertical flow of my body, causing me to look shorter.  On a related note, hats and haircuts and glasses and such really ought to be selected according to fit rather than according to the latest fashion to account for differently shaped faces and so on.

    These fit considerations, IMHO, are enduring, whereas fashion (or at least my perception of it) is less based in aethetical science and more based upon, ZOMG, [insert name of horrendously overrated actor] is wearing [article of clothing or accessory], so I MUST wear that!!!!!!!!1

    In fact, if anything, I find that a slavish attention to fashion results in far too many people looking really awful whereas if these same folks instead focused on better fitting clothing (a custom tailored suit, for instance), they’d look 100x better.

  • Fall from grace – inevitable?

    We create, we destroy.  We build up, we tear town.

    People, companies, and relationships amongst them all.

    Perhaps on a small and personal scale, it may be possible to maintain strength and joy.  I believe it is.  But can this work on a bigger, louder canvas?  I am not so sure.

    How many greats have escaped a fall?  Whose big names or brands have soared to great heights, never to have their wings melted and the fall begin?

    If you agree that this trajectory is inevitable, should it be? If you disagree, name names 😀

    In the meantime, here are two songs—one more serious, one quite humorous—to set the mood.

  • Dear FB, Twitter – We want narrowcasting, not just broadcasting!

    Earlier this week, I wanted to send a Facebook message to my dancer friends in the Bay Area  to invite them to a local event.  I ended up manually sifting through my entire friends list, since there’s no way to invite or message an intersection of friends.  Similarly, I wanted to post a twitter note to my Google buddies in a particular geographic region, but Twitter doesn’t support any sort of useful narrowcasting, either.

    Basically, social service nowadays seem hellbent on having us share our lives and connect with more and more people.  I don’t want that, and I’m betting a lot of you feel the same way:  we want to deepen our relationships with our current friends, share details of our lives with the friends who are most likely interested in those particular details, and so on.

    A lot of the brouhaha over FBs aggressive more-sharing push has been over privacy, but in the rush to protest “ZOMG, I don’t want my mom to know THAT!” the complementary concerns of narrowcasting have been largely ignored.  I’m personally a lot less worried about someone finding out something I don’t want them to know about, and far more concerned about burning out my friends with info they find irrelevant and uninteresting.

    Is it not madness that I can’t post a note joking about a local politician just to my Mountain View  friends?  This highlights one of a great many situations in which there are no privacy issues (I’m not trying to keep my bad sense of humor a secret from my friends in Europe), but rather that my friends outside MV aren’t likely to care about this topic.  And worse yet, these friends will likely stop reading my posts altogether unless I either post less overall (a bummer!) or magically somehow write entries that are appealing and relevant across my diverse group of friends (pretty impossible).

    *  *  *
    I think I speak for most of us non-hermit’y types in noting that:

    • Our sphere of acquaintances and friends is growing at an astonishing rate… due to the awesome people we meet online, at work, via friends, from family members, etc.
    • We have an innate desire to stay in touch with many of these folks and to share interesting and relevant stuff with them.
    • Relationships are not symmetrical, nor are the related communications desires!  I may hang on the every brilliant and witty word of a friend, but she may be, um, less fascinated with my mutterings (while still wanting to keep in touch with me overall)
    • There should be easier ways for us to finetune who (and what groups) we share with and who we hear from… beyond the scope of privacy considerations.
      • For instance, it’d be awesome to be able to tell our computer: “I want to share this musing with my friends who love hiking and are within 20 miles of Mountain View” or, conversely, “Highlight messages from friends who live nearby me and aren’t talking about politics.”

    But alas, services like Facebook seem to be lately more concerned about giving people a megaphone than letting them share and filter more effectively.  They’re amplifying and extending the noise, which from what I gather, is more likely to alienate people than have them maintain Facebook as part of their daily routine.  And that’s a shame.

    *  *  *

    What do you think?
    – Do you share my interests in narrowcasting?
    – Or do I have an unusually large addressbook and/or overly geeky demands re: sharing and filtering?
    – Are you familiar with any services that are helping folks connect more deeply vs. broadly?

  • A heartwarming story about bridging the culture gap

    A heartwarming story about bridging the culture gap

    A gaggle of giggling young teens — pre-Facebook — pesters this cranky, lonely guy, and asks him… everything.

    Luxembourg, 1998. On a whim and with zero preparation, I’d decided to spend a weekend there, only to face crappy weather and a lack of available nearby hostels. After much schlepping, I wearily ended up in Echternacht at a hostel teeming with a gaggle of giggling teenage kids.

    They ate dinner at their reserved table, and I ate — alone and lonely — in the opposite corner. We largely ignored each other, but they’d occasionally glance over as if to ask:

    “What is that weird, tired looking guy doing at OUR hostel?”

    Restless, I wandered the cobblestone streets to find something to do or see. Before long, I heard a familiar set of young voices behind me. Great :\. I continued walking, but somehow still wasn’t escaping their nattering.

    Almost as if in a cartoon, the young’uns instantly piped down when I peered back at them. Imagine my surprise then, when one of the girls broke from her group and shyly approached me.

    “Hallo!”

    …she said, not quite sure of herself, but with quiet yet visible support from the others.

    Still shocked, I blurted out an un-matching American “Hi there.”

    She smiled broadly, and told me she was from Germany, which I’d already guessed, but then…

    “Are you… by yourself?” she asked? I nodded, even more unsure about where this was headed.

    “Do you want to be our friend?”

    Ah! Such sweetness and innocence and courage! I could have hugged that kid right there.

    Instead, though, I delved into one of the most honest and memorable conversations I had during my time Europe.

    The friends of this girl, Christina, immediately sensed that I did welcome a chat with them. And so, as they approached, they fired off a sometimes cacophonous bunch of questions in German for Christina to translate to me, and then waited eagerly for my response and acting-spokeswoman Christina’s translation.

    A few of the initial questions were admittedly ignorant but nonetheless amusing in their simplicity:

    “Do you [Americans] really eat at McDonald’s every day?”

    and

    “Are all the streets in the States very big?”

    and

    “Do you always go to the beach?”

    It was quickly clear that most of what these kids knew of America they had gleaned from imported American entertainment. D’oh! Baywatch was super-big in Germany, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised at the perception that America is just one big beach flanked with fast food outlets.

    Before long, the kids got braver with their English and started addressing me directly. I figured this was a good time to shift gears a bit.

    “So what do you think of Americans?”

    …I asked.

    They responded eagerly: “Creative!” “FAT!” “Sportive!” “Lazy!” “Funny!” and “Friendly!” But then, one of the boys had a different take.

    “Americans don’t like Germans. They’re friendly to themselves but not to us. From the War.”

    I should have been prepared for this. I’d been living in Germany for a bit and the issue of the Holocaust often came up. People — especially college kids — often wanted to know… What did Americans think of Germany? Of Germans? Of the War? And why? Was it fair to perpetuate the Guilt? Those that brought up this subject with me often did so almost randomly, over beers and fries, with intensity but respect.

    This same curiosity, combined with innocence, was so clearly present in these young kids. On one hand, they saw America as everything “cool”… but still so distant geographically and emotionally. There was a marked admiration for, yet confusion about and partially even disdain for Americans, perhaps no different than that reflected by our own general ignorance of other cultures.

    But here there was such a heartwarming yearning from them to connect to me, to connect with the America I was an impromptu representative for. They continued asking me questions for nearly an hour, and drew closer to me all the while.

    “You are nice!” gushed one of the girls out of the blue, prompting some bantering in German that I understood more than they realized. Not long after this, Christina — by now pretty emboldened and unshy — asked, “Can I have your address?”

    “Sure,” I replied, amused and flattered, though I couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

    “Because Julia likes you!” Christina replied with a huge grin, followed by a horrified look on a quickly clued-in Julia, “And she won’t ask you!”


    Silly kids. Playful, wondering, movie-watching, tall, short, blonde, brunette, crush-having, sneaker-wearing kids.

    At that moment I was reminded… that deep down we’re pretty much all the same, everywhere. There’s a child-like curiosity and goodness in everyone that never really dies. Sometimes it gets hardened a bit or repressed or shouted over, but it’s still there.


    I had been tired and lonely and frustrated before I met these kids. And of course I’ve had quite a few rough days since then. But when life accentuates separation and distance, I look back on my encounter in Luxembourg and similar experiences and am reassured that friendship and understanding are still inherently valued. And though I never did hear from Julia, thinking of her and her friends still makes me smile.

  • On public displays of affection — but not that kind

    Today, we send and receive notes publicly in a way that seems shocking when viewed by communications standards just a decade ago. Expressions of friendship, social plans, etc.

    “I miss you!”…
    “Hey, are you going to Fred’s party tomorrow?”…
    “Save me a dance this Wednesday!”… etc.

    Why do we like this, why do we post rather than e-mail? Bonding? Convenience? Insecurity? Is it just an extension of the old “You’re the greatest!” scribblings we got in our high school year books? 🙂

    I feel torn about this.

    On one hand, I must confess to being oft-delighted by both the chance to quickly share warm feelings or make arrangements with friends and acquaintances all over the world, many of whom I might not otherwise have a chance to more formally or personally converse with.  But on the other hand, this almost seems like a narcissistic and lazy version of friendship, and a behavior that’s not particularly seemly in someone who is nearly four decades old.

    I’m almost past feeling bad about not handwriting letters anymore.  I still feel awful that I have unreplied-to e-mails in my inbox from dear friends that I’ve put off for “when I have time,” yet here I am writing a blog post.

    Have we become a culture of relationship snackers?  Has the ease of publishing, of communicating, of virtual hugging (not to mention cow-throwing) resulted in an exciting and perhaps overall-positive broadening of our social circle… but at the expense of deepening relationships?

    What do you think?  Why are we so drawn to this micro- and public communicating?  What does it mean for us?  What does it mean for relationships?

  • Facebook’s Frustrating Friending… and my reluctant choice

    I have over 500 Facebook friends.  That’s a statement to help you understand my predicament, not a badge of honor.  Of these, a handful are close friends, a big bunch are “regular” friends, a ton of ‘em are colleagues with which I have varying degrees of social contact and interest, and an even larger ton are “acquaintances or less.”  From that latter category, I still value many of those admittedly “weak ties.”  I may not know someone well, but perhaps she and I connected strongly even after just a brief meetup.  Or… maybe I don’t chat with that one fellow much anymore, but he used to be my best friend in high school and I still care about how he’s doing.

    But then there are the other “friends.”  People I met once at a conference and exchanged pleasant pleasantries with.  Someone from college who was the girlfriend of an acquaintance.  Or someone who… uh… who is that guy?

    *  *  *

    The biggest and most painful flaw in Facebook’s friend-system is that it assumes that two people in a “friendship” see the relationship in the same way… and thus have the same interests (or interest level) in both sharing and learning about each other.  I have no doubt that there are people I’m interested in hearing about (and from), but who absolutely couldn’t give a rodent’s posterior about my latest blatherings or photos.  On a related note, I have work buddies that I enjoy chatting with, but would probably not to subject them to my occasional angst, drinking photos, dating whines, and so on.  As a friend of mine once commented, “You don’t want to see your boss in Speedos” or, more intellectually, many people understandably feel uncomfortable sharing or reading “out of social context.” You get my point.

    *  *  *

    Sure, Facebook’s “friend lists” can ameliorate some of these issue a bit.  But not completely.  And the UI is so awkward, so confusing, so annoying, it almost makes setting up friend lists more trouble than they’re worth.

    What Facebook needs to do is break the friend-reciprocity requirement.  Just because I’m interested in following a person’s photo stream or reading their latest musings doesn’t mean they want to be forcefed AdamInfo.  More specifically, Facebook needs a “subscription” model, just like what we have for blogs, on Twitter, on Friendfeed, and—for crying out loud—in real life. 

    Each person has two rights in this far-more-ideal non-reciprocal friends model:
    1) The right to set privacy boundaries, dictating who (individually and/or by group) can access what aspects of their space (profile, activity stream, etc.)
    2) The right to follow or subscribe to whatever or whoever he or she wants, subject (of course) to any applicable privacy boundaries mentioned in #1… WITHOUT the other person having to indicate the same level of interest.

    There’s also a #3, which I find to be a strongly desirable albeit not required component of this model:
    3) The right to more keenly control sharing, so that it’s aligned intelligently not only with the interests of the sharer (as in #1), but also with the interests of the potential reader (related to #2).

    #3 might seem redundant, but it’s not.

    *  *  *

    A hypothetical example:

    Pat has buddies Fred and Jen.  Fred and Pat are fast friends.  In contrast, Pat has a crush on Jen and want to know everything about her, but she doesn’t have the same interest in Pat.

    – Clearly, Jen’s gonna want #1 here.  She doesn’t want Pat to see her stuff at all, so she either blocks him or gives him limited privileges. 
    – She may, however, want to keep tabs on the fellow to see if he’s spreading rumors or going from creepy to threatening, so she takes advantage of #2 above.

    Under the current model, the latter part wouldn’t be reasonably possible.  Jen would have to friend Pat, and wouldn’t that be awkward?! (and potentially hazardous, by sending absolutely the wrong statement).

    So then we have Pat and Fred.  As fast friends, they really want to follow everything of each other.  There should be a system, perhaps not only algorithmic (which I believe FB already has in place) but optional-manual as well, which enables the two to indicate, yes, turn on the firehose; let me know when my best friend sneezes.  Again, Facebook has some functionality along this line, but it doesn’t scale well within an account, it’s confusing, and it’s basically a pain in the ass.

    This is where #3 comes into play.  Facebook should enable folks to more easily share smartly… e.g., “pushing” those conference photos or blog entry on technology to colleagues, but not gym buddies or high school chums.  Of note, this is NOT the same as privacy; I’m not suggesting that this should be used as a substitute for effective privacy controls or filtering, nor even that the untargeted folks in the above scenario couldn’t view those items if they wanted.  But rather, it’s an issue of respect and priority; it’s less that those folks would be offended and more that they’d be simply bored.  What I’m calling for is a sharing that respects not only boundaries, but likely interests.

    *  *  *

    And lastly, we return to the most painful part of Facebook’s current friending model:  the increasing noise to signal ratio.  In other words, when I view my homepage feed, a lot of it is uninteresting to me.  And, alas, I miss tidbits about friends that I am interested in hearing about.  Yes, again, I could use friend lists (and do), but this doesn’t help streamline many other reading or transactional activities on FB; I still have to wade through 500+ names when recommending friends to friends, for instance.

    So today I’m finally making that hard choice:  I’m being selfish and reclaiming my addressbook.  I’m removing a not-insignificant-number of folks from my Facebook addressbook (read: de-friending them) not because they stole my girlfriend or poked my eye out with a bb-gun or made me lick Grand Central Station with my tongue (though, indeed, all of those would be good reasons for de-friending), but rather because we don’t really chat so much any more or have drifted apart or never really chatted much socially in the first place,  etc. etc. etc., and the benefit of those weak ties is outweighed by the collective—I hate to use this word—clutter.

    Offended?  Blame Facebook.  Or, better, yet, if you’re bummed that I’ve de-friended you, do one or both of the following:
    – Contact Facebook and let them know that it’s high time they update their friending system to improve sharing & privacy and reduce awkwardness.
    – Follow me on FriendFeed (and, obviously, feel very welcome to engage in conversation with me there).

    *  *  *

    Thanks for your understanding :-D.  Also, why not share your thoughts below on how Facebook Friending works?