Posts tagged “connection

Down The Rabbit Hole We Go

I’ve developed a theory that if people can’t sit through a 30-minute meal without touching their phones, they are OSDs (Over-Stimulated Disturbances). Sounds a little like LSD, and appropriately so; our phones are quickly turning us into walking drug addicts.

But who am I to quip? I’m constantly responding to emails on the fly, tweeting,  connecting – it’s a part of work, daily existence.

Connection is a loaded word these days. Social platforms tout it as part of their mission. But what does it mean to truly connect? On Twitter, it means favoriting bursts of 140 snippets. In person, it means having the patience to listen to long, circuitous babbles that are often far less witty, relevant, or sharable.

It’s much easier to fall in love with the former.

One question I’m tackling at work is how to effectively use social media to enhance connection with an audience. Sounds nice in theory but in practice, virtual connection entails something entirely different from a meaningful in-person relationship. Just because I like Red Cross on Facebook doesn’t mean I will spend a dime or a minute of my time volunteering for a cause.

So, I’m going out on a limb and positing that the greatest function social media can serve is to get people away from social media, offline, and into the actual lives of others.

What I mean is that social media should spur offline activity. A company’s goal shouldn’t be to stick people in an unending spiral of Twitter-Facebook-Instagram-YouTube, repeat 100 times until dizzy. That quickly creates obsessive, neurotic, OSD mental cases (raise your hand if you’re one already – – me!).

From a business perspective, it’s no use to Oreo, for instance, to get people to watch its Daily Twist campaign 50 times if no one ever actually buys a box of Oreos.  But by showing the social value of doing so- rewarding users who buy a box and snap a picture of them consuming it in fun ways- Oreo creates a win-win situation. They make money, and you’re presumably happier because now you are having fun with friends.  That’s real social mixed with virtual interplay.

So, is this the modern-day version of connection? Virtual and physical worlds feeding one other, transposing offline activities to the online world, and vice-versa? I suppose so, since these days “it never happened if it’s not online”.

I say this with a bit of cynicism, but the truth is, it’s unrealistic to go anywhere these days without a phone notification calling our name.  Like it or not, our new definition of connection needs to take into account the ubiquitous gadget in the room, while finding a way to channel its use in a healthy way.

Social media is the digital version of junk food. It’s created a habit of mindless consumption. “Once you pop you can’t stop!” But no, we must stop. Lest we further descend down the rabbit hole and emerge into a society disconnected from our most basic human existence.

Set aside a phone and connect with reality. It’s about balance and there lies our challenge.

How do you use social media to enhance connection? Have you found it an effective, or distracting, tool? I’d love to read your thoughts in the comments below. 

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Day 11: Connections

About half the professional contacts I meet are through friends. In some cases, these people introduce me to their friends which then makes these new contacts friends of friends of friends, or something like that. At some point, you stop keeping track and accept that we’re all just sort of connected in some…connected…way.

There have been quite a few studies about the importance of weak ties in building powerful, diverse networks. This weekend was a perfect example of that. I had three separate meetings with people I knew through friends, for three separate reasons. Turns out all three of them knew each other, or at least of each other, unbeknownst to them . Despite being in different fields (journalism, fashion, web developing), and attending different schools, our interests have since converged through tech, thanks to its unique capability of crossing previously insular industries.

I love where I am now for the sheer opportunity to meet people. It’s not about collecting business cards or climbing the social ladder because quite honestly, that’s annoying and not even all that helpful. Building relationships is intriguing. I do it out of wonderment, wonder at seeing how all these linked tiny nodes organically evolve into a live, buzzing web of activity. When you have our greatest resource – people – at your disposal, the possibilities are endless.


Food is Good.

“Jia bung!”  This magic Taiwanese phrase had me running with dogged devotion to the kitchen table. Translating literally to ‘eat food’, ‘Jia Bung’ was a signal for family and guests to gather for a meal or social occasion. At five years old, I would gleefully respond to this open invitation with the only other Taiwanese phrase I knew, “Ho le!” (translation: “Okay!”)

Over time, my responses to food have traveled the continuum of ‘Ho Les’. As a child, I screeched enthusiasm for all types of food, everything from duck tongue to Kraft Mac-and-Cheese. At school, I envied my classmates for their classic Arctic Zone and metal American Girl lunch boxes; my flimsy handy sack was devoid of name brand. Better yet, it had my Chinese name scribbled on the front. When it came time to reveal the contents of our lunches, I would marvel at the other children’s DIY pizza kits (Lunchables), ingeniously packaged Go-Gurt, and the ultimate 5th-grade treat: Dunkaroos. I desperately yearned for a kangaroo-shaped cookie but 5th-grade social protocol required that I provide something in exchange. I bartered with my fried rice and shrimp chips, even offering my dried fish snack. Meeting no success, I was effectively shut out of the elite Dunkaroos club. Food was no longer a welcoming entity.

Enter puberty. I was hungry (all the time) and craved nothing more than my mother’s tofu and deliciously greasy noodles. Yet at the age when I thought looking good mattered more than eating good, my  ‘Ho Le’ gave way to teenage angst. “Ho le, ho le- enough!” I’d exclaim, as my Mom would scoop mounds of rice, fresh veggies, barbecue pork, dumplings, and egg tart onto my plate. Western standards of beauty trampled on my once-passionate desire for food. ‘Jia Bung’- the statement that once had me running to the table- no longer held sway. With an increasingly lackluster ‘Ho le’, my ties to family and culture, rooted in food, began to fade as well.

In college, I studied abroad in the country where eating is practically a national sport, Singapore. My friends would invite me on nightlong food escapades. At first, I respectfully declined, thinking that the sight of so many tantalizing food options would lead to gluttonous behavior. But after seeing pictures of friends looking abnormally happy with Malaysian curry and Chili Crab, curiosity got the best of me. I decided to heed the call of ‘Jia Bung’.  I went with a friend to a nearby food market, boasting more than 50 flavors of moon cake.  Against my better body’s warning, I said “Ho Le” to every single sample. In the midst of digesting moon cake number I-don’t-want-to-know, I began to worry about the weight I would gain, then realized…I didn’t care. I swallowed my weight inhibitions because I realized that life just wasn’t as tasty if I was constantly worried about my intake at the free buffet of life. Though I returned to the United States 8 pounds heavier, I would never trade those extra pounds for the vital life skills I acquired through food that year: exploration, openness to flavor, and acceptance of self.

Since then, food has become less about eating and more an outlet for learning the constructs behind it. After returning from Singapore, I reviewed restaurants in my college town, Gainesville, Florida, to taste the food and interview the minds behind it. I wanted to understand business owners and their motivation for starting restaurants. This obsession with food and its alluring power persisted. Since graduating from college, I have traveled for pleasure to several other countries – Italy, Greece, Austria, Poland, China – and sampled even more food. The dishes have been vastly different, but the lesson across continents has remained the same: food is good.

What I’ve learned about food is truthfully not much different from what I instinctively knew as a child. Simply, food brings people together. You don’t need a translator to detect when someone is pleased (or disgusted) with a dish. But more importantly, food can be a gateway to conversation, which means the direct value of food only goes as far as the first few bites.  ‘Jia Bung’ will get people to a common table, but it is just a starting point. The real value is in how you accept the food thereafter, whether with nonchalance, gratitude, or a hearty ‘Ho Le’.

 

 

Now in New York, I am surrounded by a myriad of food options. Last month I tried a cookie ice cream sandwich, aptly called “The American Dream”, at Brooklyn’s food festival Smorgasburg. It was an indulgent creation: vanilla ice cream and cocoa nibs, squashed between 2 cookies made of brownie, house-made sea salt and honey-sweetened peanut butter. Cocoa and peanut butter crumbs burst from the crevices of my mouth as the sweet and salty combination melted perfectly on my tongue. Sitting beside me was a friend from Belgium. As we earnestly bit into the American Dream, we talked about the city, our lives, and what lay ahead. We each held one half of the American Dream in our hands, relishing the taste yet knowing that our conversation and company were far more valuable than anything our stomachs could hold.

To me, this is the way food should be.  Food sustains our bodily needs, but it also fulfills a rich emotional connection with others. By dining together, we facilitate conversation, thus bridging the gap between cultures, languages, and people. While America is known as the land of opportunity for its many paths to upward mobility, let us also recognize the far deeper gateways to connection.  For all the advancements our society has made, there is still no better opportunity than the chance to connect with a fellow human being over a good meal.  I’ll say “Ho le!” to that any day.