Sunday, October 4, 2015

A521.8.4.RB_MedleyKim_No_Strangers_Here

No Strangers Here
            William Butler Yeats wrote, “There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t met yet” (QuoteHD, n.d.). McKay, Davis, and Fanning (2009) provide, “The world is full of interesting strangers” (p. 205). Potential friends and lovers pass by us in the halls, sit and eat with us at restaurants, wait in line with us, and even perform customer care services; yet, once eyes meet, or contact is made, we “shyly slide away” (McKay et al., 2009, p. 205). The obvious question is why? Why do we hesitate to break the ice? What is about “the art of beginnings” we fear (McKay et al., 2009, p. 205)? Do we fear what others will think, or, worse, do we fear rejection (McKay et al., 2009)?
            McKay et al. (2009) proffer fear is derived from one of two sources: an antiquated model from the 1800s that frowned upon contact with strangers without proper introductions; or, our “own self-depreciating internal monologue” that assigns self-imposed feelings of inferiority, untrustworthiness, and unattractiveness (McKay et al., 2009, p. 205). Further, Jacobs (2012) notes increasing social networks provide a safe haven for those whose internal monologue maintains an upper hand. Social media allows those who fear that initial contact to “listen… and chime in on” their own terms; yet, there is no substitution for face-to-face contact and the ability to “work the room” (Jacobs, 2012). Our ability to cope with our fear and experience an event as one of exhilaration that broadens our circle, rather than one that is a complete, and utterly “boring waste of time” begins with an understanding of why we fear contact and how we may overcome it (Jacobs, 2012).
            Although I have years behind me, and contrary to jokingly, snide remarks my family and friends would make, my fear of contact is not derived from the 1800s, although I do sometimes marvel at the fashions of the period; but, that’s a conversation for another time. A portion of my fear, which inhibits my ability to “work the room”, stems from how I was raised. My parents came from a generation in which children were preferred to be seen and not heard; and, they continued that tradition with their parenting practices. I can remember as far back as my early childhood. I would listen intently to the adults as they spoke; but, many times, my attempts to enter the conversation were shut down because of my young age. Often times, I was told to go play, or find something else to do while the adults visited. The other factor that contributes greatly to my present day inability is that of my height.
            My mother was short in stature. As I recall, she was 4’9”. As a child, I was always short for my age. During elementary school, and to some extend junior high, I learned to deal with my height by saying I had not yet reached my growing spurt. That argument worked until ninth grade, at which point most of my girlfriends had not only grown in height, they had started to mature in other areas one would expect from a ninth grade girl. I had not yet experienced these changes. Kids can be quite cruel at times. More often than not I was chastised and told to return to elementary school. In addition to being kept away from conversations, I was often kept from social sports, like four-square. Talk about feeling inferior and unworthy! Years of receiving the same response greatly affected my body language. Often times, I failed to make and keep eye contact. I moved away from people, did not smile, and kept my arms crossed (McKay et al., 2009). I did find friends. They were much like me in that the popular group found physical flaws with them, too. We were able to connect and are still in touch, today. For me, a room filled with people is much akin to the popular clicks from high school.
            With self-analysis complete, McKay et al. (2009) offer guidance as to how to avoid self-imposed judgmental labels. Reframing rejection, dealing with rejection, and planning to be rejected are but a few suggestions. Jacobs (2012) provides ten tips that marry nicely with McKay et al. (2009) and the steps needs to enjoy the art of conversation:
1)               Go with a purpose
2)               Use inside contacts
3)               Be a lone ranger
4)               Get the lay of the land
5)               Know your body language
6)               Break the ice
7)               Mind your handshake
8)               Use open-ended questions
9)               Easy on the business cards
10)           Be generous

I recognize my tendency to allow those old fears to impact my ability to work the room. Honestly, there are times I would be quite happy sitting, as I did as a child, and watch the others interact. It was amazing what I was able to learn by simply listening. Today, when I travel to meetings or gatherings, I choose which to attend, and I make it a practice to meet at least three new people, obtain their business card, and send a follow-up e-mail to them after the event. Many events are hosted by the local Chamber of Commerce. I have a dear friend who acts as not only my inside contact, he knows of my fear and will introduce me to many new people whom he knows. This helps me to avoid staying with people I know, throughout the event, and take on the mask of the lone ranger (Jacobs, 2012). Before breaking the ice, which according to McKay et al. (2009) is nothing more than “to start talking”, I take note of other groups and if their conversations appear to be private, or, if they are open to another joining in. With women, I can give a compliment by commenting on shoes, handbags, or their outfit. With men, humor, current events, and sports provide many icebreakers (McKay et al., 2009). I enjoy speaking with others. I enjoy listening. It helps me to ask open-ended questions, thereby learning more. I try to remember little things so that if I meet these same folks, I already have information with which to further our relationship. I am quite generous and enjoy helping others without expecting something in return (Jacobs, 2012). I think that goes back to my childhood, too.
            As I attend more and more events, the art of conversation and the ability to make that initial contact becomes easier and easier. My father used to tell me the way to Carnegie Hall was to “practice, practice, practice”. My ability to listen and willingness to share information about myself help me to finally engage in something I love, the art of conversation. Most of the working the room conversations remain at the second level of self-disclosure, “thoughts, feelings, and needs”; however, each time we share just a little bit more, relationships grow and fears disappear (McKay et al., 2009, p. 215). Yes, “waking into a room full of strangers can be intimidating”; but, when curiosity no longer leads to prying, the conversation is essentially finished and a graceful exit is sought (Jacobs, 2012; McKay et al., 2009). As for me, I fought for years to become a part of so many conversations. A little fear, although ever present, is simply not enough to deter me from making that connection and having that chat.


References
Jacobs, D.L. (2012, Feb 29). How To Work A Room Like You Own The Place. In Personal
            Finance Forbes.com. Retrieved from             http://www.forbes.com/sites/deborahljacobs/2012/02/29/how-to-work-a-room-like-you-     own-the-place/
McKay, M., Davis, M., & Fanning, P. (2009). Negotiation. In Messages: The Communication          Skills Book. Oakland, CA. New Harbinger Publications, Inc.
QuoteHD. (n.d.). Stranger Quotes. Retrieved from


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