My 9-year-old son and his 8-year-old buddy have worked out the meaning—or possible meanings—of the f-word. Here are their guesses:
- Go knock your head on a brick wall
- Money
- Dumb
- Shoot
It’s fun to think about what meanings children, as well as adults, consider to be “bad”, and to ask ourselves what we really mean when we say a word… and that in a few years (or less), my son and his friend will probably have the occasion to reevaluate this list.
This past week, I have been at both the giving and receiving ends of some very poor communication.
Dishing it out: I asked for backup support with a project, but neglected to mention a specific time the support would be needed. To make matters worse, no one had the mental bandwidth to reply with a clarifying question, so the email wasn’t answered until it was too late.
Being dished: After spending half a week on a project, all preliminaries were junked when the project owner mentioned requirements that should have been in the initial request.
We’re all busy. When we are the source of a request, it’s important that we either do the work of providing all key details, or clearly state what details are needed from the other person. When we’re the recipient of an unclear email, it’s up to us to ask for missing details, and to make sure we get them.
One tool I use is a quick checklist:
If you get the feeling a note (either that you’ve received or are about to send) is unclear, re-read it and jot down the questions that come to mind (they will). If you’re having trouble coming up with questions, give yourself a “who-what-where-when” kick-start: Does the message name all necessary names? Does it explain exactly what’s happening, or what’s needed? Do you need to know more about where or when? (Sure, you learned that years ago, but did you use it in your last memo?) Once you start a list like this, it’s surprisingly easy to know when you’re done.
And once you’ve jotted down those questions…
Are the questions for an email you’re sending? Answer what you can, and ask for help with the others.
Are the questions for an email you’ve received? Reply to the sender with a numbered or bulleted list of questions. Don’t glob the questions into a long paragraph, but break them out into easy-to-answer pieces.
And remember to be patient with yourself and others. We are all busy; Communication is one of those things that will never be perfect, and could always use a little improvement.
This article purposely leaves out the nuances of more complex communications, such as those that seek to inspire change or address organizational issues. If you’re looking beyond the simple project memo, see Ken Milloy’s thoughtfully assembled 11 Laws of Internal Communications.
Check out the beautiful page announcing the New York Times social network beta, MyTimes. It only displays if you haven’t already signed up, so I’ve placed a screenshot here:
I continue to admire this site for its super-clean handling of massive content. Just look at how much they manage to tell you in a single graphic which, once again, both expresses and expands the NY Times visual identity.
Birth is personal, miraculous, mundane. Mothers and fathers have been profoundly transformed by the experience of having a child as far back as human beings can remember, and yet we accomplish it with no training or even forethought.
Now consider cliques, teams, buddies, clubs, tribes, neighborhoods and nations: Community is just as fundamentally a part of our humanness, whether we connect for shared needs, shared desires or shared meaning.
I’m confident that, like birth, communities have been happening since at least the dawn of human consciousness… that they, in fact, came before self-awareness, and that to avoid community requires great effort.
Now that we are focused on it, now that we want so much to consciously create it, it has somehow become (for many) a Herculean Undertaking.
Look at what has happened to modern Western childbirth and perhaps we can find clues of pitfalls to avoid when seeking to create and/or tap Online and otherwise-conscious communities.
More to the point, however, is that in retrospect, the social network—the development of web communities—was inevitable, because it is what we do, and to a great degree, it is who we are.
At my favorite wireless café/laundromat, the washing machines are (understandably) in an adjoining shop to the café, so customers who use both services must leave their table to check on their clothes. Recently, I settled down with computer and coffee on a comfy couch, not far from another laundry/café customer, and got going with a project. After awhile, she asked me to watch her stuff while she went next door. Next, it was my turn. The other customer simply looked up and nodded as I moved passed her. I smiled, understanding that I didn’t have to say a word—my computer would be safe.
When I came back, there was a third person, seated near my spot on the couch, who looked at me sheepishly and confessed she had accidentally sipped my coffee. She offered to buy a replacement, and all three of us shared a laugh while our new café companion described how the first had looked up and gasped, attempting to warn her of her mistake (but not quite in time).
When I got up to leave, the first customer was over in the laundromat. I couldn’t wait for her, so the second took over the “watch”. I popped into the laundromat to let the first customer know what was going on, and exchanged a hurried, but friendly, goodbye.
This is a big city—it’s unlikely any of us will ever meet again. It was a short-lived community of three, begun and ended with grace, and some other nice human qualities.
As we involve ourselves in the art and science of creating online communities, it’s important to remember that human communities surround us, and are born and re-born constantly, with or without Web 2.0, PHP or Ajax. They are a natural, abundant and profoundly renewable resource.
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