Dear Jamaican Men and Dear Jamaican Women: A Word

Social Media platforms such as Twitter and Facebook, can get very noisy. And, when people are passionate about certain issues, even more so. The good thing with the way these platforms are, however, is that you can take in the information or points of view one at a time - if at all. You can always opt not to check out the issue being discussed or the contributions from other authors. When you're good and ready, in your quiet place, you can peruse and scroll to your heart's content.

Some folks have mastered the art of speaking passionately via these media without having their points misinterpreted. The quick posts come a-mile-a-minute, saying exactly what they wish to say. That's good. What is even better, is being able to engage respectfully with people with whom they do not share a particular point of view. I've seen such well-mannered exchanges between folks at opposite ends of a spectrum. On Twitter. The zoo-like, mean streets of Twitter! Such admirable exchanges are a thing of beauty to read. They always remind me that, even though we are behind computer/phone screens, we can be civil. All is not lost.

The Art and Joy of Words
But, some of it is. I've shared a bit of a quote by C.S. Lewis in a previous post regarding the "art and joy of words." There is more to the quote, and, in its entirety, it gets to the heart of what makes saying or writing "exactly what you wish to say" a sometimes uncomfortable thing. A part of the struggle is not about whether you will offend. No. Such an outcome in today's world is, to wit, expected. For, as long as you create/write/say/stand up for/take a position on something, people are gonna pull up their soapboxes and criticize your work/opinion/position, etc. That's a given. It's not even the fear of being labelled a pariah. The part of the struggle that spells discomfort is the knowledge that there are those who will not pause long enough to listen or read through; who will not try to understand a conflicting (worse, less than savoury) point of view. In articulating your own thoughts, you come up against opinions set in stone, which is a part of a bigger stone - a wall, if you will. And, when this meets that, there's little point in adding to the noise. But, a thing that need be said can do no other than to find an outlet.

"Often when he was teaching me to write in Greek the Fox would say, “Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that is the whole art and joy of words." A glib saying. When the time comes to u at which u will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the centre of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you’ll not talk about joy of words." - C.S. Lewis

These thoughts came to mind last week as I witnessed the unfolding of a sexual harassment awareness campaign on Twitter. (As you know, with Social Media, campaigns are no longer solely the purview of organizations and their marketing teams. Anyone can start a conversation and, if it catches on, it goes viral - takes on multiple shares or retweets - in no time.) A Jamaican man suggested the use of the hashtag #DearJamaicanMen on Wednesday, July 22. The idea was to help make people aware of the verbal (and sometimes, physical) harassment many Jamaican women are subjected to as they go about their daily lives.  And so they did - and how! The tweets were authentic, passionate, no-holds-barred. I had to take it in, in pieces. Many tweets were being published in a short space of time and it was a lot to take in. Women recounted episodes upon episodes of unwelcome advances; crass behaviour; crude language, and the like, from those men.

The Medium. The Message.
One of my concerns was how to now go about reaching and changing the habits of those men. After all, as that Jamaican proverb goes, "Wha bawn inna kid, dead inna goat." Or, "you can't teach an old dog new tricks." But, we have to believe that there are exceptions to the rule. After all, would we then be saying that people...adults, are unteachable? That's not what adult-learner-based courses presume. How, then, do we go about impressing what is acceptable behaviour upon these minds, and making it stick? Social media provide such avenues.

Is the target group on Twitter? Perhaps there's a presence, yes. The campaign raised awareness, and it was also a call-to-action. Twitter may have been a great starting point. But, needless to say, other media - including (if not especially) word-of-mouth - are critical to the cause.

Respect Due
It would not only be a rather tedious one, but, as well, a very frustrating exercise for Jamaican women to keep reminding/correcting those men each and every single time they are confronted with such crass approaches and, in some cases, inappropriate touches/sexual harassment. Every. Single. Time. This might give the impression that women are saying they meet upon these offences ten times per day. In a word, no. In another word: Thatisnothepoint. What is real, however, is that meeting upon such an offence even once a week is too often. The frequency is one thing; what comes out of the mouths of those men is another. Worse, the touch. The question is what makes them think it is okay? The answer(s) may be varied and may make sense to them. Want to know which answer will not make the cut? "I did not know any better." So, knowing better is one thing. Doing what they do is another. Doing what they do because they know they will face no consequences is yet another.

Those men, in most cases, are strangers to the women they call out to or try to touch or hold. They don't know them from Eve! But, as the saying goes, "Respect due!" Human to human, respect is due. The ugly truth is (although the physical appearance of the truth is irrelevant) we don't always get the respect we deserve. And it is folly to think that we are going to get it from some perv or crass so-and-so on the street. We have zero control over the words that come out of a person's mouth. As crass and crude as they are, trying to control another's words is like trying to take just the right amount of air from a bubble. Even speech writers will tell you they're never 100% successful. (The client/boss will ad lib - sometimes ad nauseam. Smh.) But touching? Nay nay! I get the feeling I should include these reminders a few times in this post; sprinkle them around like Parmesan cheese:

Touching a woman in a sexual way
Without her consent
Is never okay.

It does not matter if she chooses to walk the street clad solely in nipple covers and a skin-toned thong. It. Does. Not. Matter. No one has a right to touch her in a sexual way because she chooses to walk the street half or 90% naked. Whether her elevator goes all the way to the top is another matter entirely. Dressing and showing a lot of skin is not my thing. It's how I was brought up and doing so makes me uncomfortable. But, again, people choose how they want to dress. It is not an invitation for non-consensual sexual touch. So, if one of those men decides to reach out and touch in a sexual way (and, given the context, we're talking without the woman's consent), it just got real. Not only is that scary, it is sexual harassment and it should be reported to the police. I know. I know. "But, this is Jamaica," you say. I know. I know. For one, there's no anti-crass legislation, and, for two, our judicial system is backed up with cases from Whappie killed Phillup. And the jury is still out on that. So, for the system to be "burdened" with these "cho-a-nuh-nutten-dat" cases of sexual harassment, may not be a welcome notion for the long arm of the law.

What also came to mind is that some Jamaican women make it bad for others, in seeing nothing distasteful or wrong with these kinds of approaches. By extension, they encourage this kind of behaviour. Sadly, the message some men get is that it is okay. Encouragement might also come from certain songs/chunes and the like. (That debate continues. Talk amongst yourselves...) As we have called on the men we know to relay to the one or two breddrin they know who fall in the those men category, my dear Jamaican women should also have a word with the one or two sistren we know who encourage "this kind of behaviour". There's a campaign on for good manners in Jamaica. Yes, it's now requiring a movement. There's also the Respect movement. I'm not sure whether there is offline presence, however, Respect Jamaica is all about the message of having and showing respect for one another. Respect for self; respect for others; respect for life. It goes for both men and women. R-E-S-P-E-C-T is a two-way street.

Sigh. For now, it seems "the crass we have always with us." Hopefully, not for much longer. Wouldn't it be great if we could run them out of the gene pool? Just saying. While we work on getting to that point where the awareness and lessons about impact lead to a change in mind and behaviour, let's try not to let it consume us. By the way, if we have to start demanding respect from the men in our lives - the men who really matter - then, Houston, we have a problem.

Self-defence
We are often advised not to take the law into our own hands. In a physical encounter that threatens to hurt you or take your life, defensive action is reflexive. No one has to tell you to try to defend yourself. I'm not going to stay too long on this point because (1) I don't know too much about this (2) The Internet, movies and self-defence classes abound, and (3) The little that I do know, I ponder. Yeah. I imagine that it would be helpful to be mentally prepared for any "light" or serious encounter. We're not able to stop bullets with our teeth. However, it is not sufficient to simply walk with key in hand as I sometimes do - depending. It is important to be prepared to use that key in a way that will incapacitate the person who's physically harassing or attacking you. For instance, you could plan to apply a side kick to an attacker's knee. Would you be mentally prepared to hear it crack? And, knowing you've done some damage to render him immovable, hightail it out of there instead of being paralyzed with fear? How are you with the sight of blood spewing? It is also advised that you make a sound; a shout, even a guttural noise of some sort when fighting off an attacker. So much adrenaline is coursing through you, you need a release. I understand that that is one of the reasons police officers shout their commands: "Hands up!" "Get down!" And so on. If all that is pent up, you might suffer a mild stroke. (The noise you make may even alert someone.) In some jurisdictions, if you apply more force than necessary beyond simply defending yourself, you may end up in court. The goal, as is often said, is to get out of that situation alive. You may get hurt. After all, the person is trying to overpower you. But your goal is to get out with your life. So, be mentally prepared to hurt or outsmart the person enough to achieve that goal.

Needless to say, that goes for anyone - not just women.

Touching a man in a sexual way
Without his consent
Is never okay.

I searched for and found a lil something to get those thoughts a-flowing. This one goes out to my Dear Jamaican People:

(Image found via Google search. If it's yours, I'd be happy to give credit.)

Foreseen Response
But, the messaging continues. Those on Twitter still do. And, like all messages, they earn feedback/responses/criticisms. One of the ones many saw coming was the #DearJamaicanWomen hashtag. It would have been naive to think that that was not going to happen. It would also have been naive to think that people won't and don't appropriate their own meanings to linguistic constructs and even end up turning the original on its head. Again, no control over that. Plus, it's Twitter. The similarity of the workings of the human mind is on fine display. Create an "original" hashtag and you discover it has already been used dozens of times. Also, it may have been used to convey an entirely different thought or used within an entirely different context altogether. So, you put something out there and hope for that folks will stick with the theme.

Upon the creation of the new hashtag, I figured, as many others must have, that the two would not be comparable. Statistically, women are way more on the receiving end of these unsavoury comments  and approaches than men. But, I also figured that the users of the DJW hashtag would use it to express their annoyance with some habits of Jamaican women. That happened. And, believe it or not, they had a right to do it, as the women (and some men) did with the DJM hashtag. My interpretation of that move was: "We know it can't compare, but this is our chance and avenue to express our concerns and annoyances." The subject matter was not the same - and they knew it. But, some of them also came from a place of what was real to them. True, there was little regard to time and place and courtesy/netiquette. However, should their views be discounted or should we close our ears to what they were saying because their views didn't fit the theme; the timing? Some of them tried to turn it into a positive for Jamaican women. And a few of them were just plain stupid. And crass.

Literary Tropes
One comment was that those men should not have to see these women as their family members before showing respect. However, it may very well take a comparison between other women and their mothers, sisters, aunts..., to trigger a change in thinking and behaviour. For some folks, their tropic (trope-ic) view of the world is heavily based on metaphors. They are better able to grasp a concept through association using specific analogies. (Similar to this is metonymy - association based on general understanding. "The beautiful game" is a widely accepted reference to football.) Another trope is synecdoche (not the place in New York). This is where people tend to refer to the part for the whole: "Oh, you've got a new set of wheels!" Or, the whole for the part: "The long arm of the law finally caught up with you!" (Instead of saying the police stopped you for speeding.) Where was I going with this? Yes. So, perhaps, for some of those men, metaphors/associations would resonate more with them. We would like them to exhibit a change in behaviour; get to a higher level. Are we dictating how they get there? Or should we appreciate that they would be choosing to change; making an effort, and that that's a starting point for them?

Ladies and Gentlemen
The task is a challenging one, but it is necessary to begin - if we have not already begun - to raise our little girls and little boys to be ladies and gentlemen. If we don't take the time to do it, they will be raised by wolves. We could leave them to the (societal) elements, be über-liberal in a hands-off approach and simply hope for the best. And it's fine to talk about being prudish, until the day you realize it's your son or your daughter who's being a menace to society. Yes. The same wolf-esque society to which he/she was left to be groomed. As was told to us as students at Wolmer's Girls', "What you will be, you are now becoming."

Here's the thing: Values and principles remain a thing. And, here's another thing: People differ in their definition of values and principles, etc. It's as though we all make it up as we go along. We've made such a descent, and are now we've found ourselves up that creek - without a paddle. But, we gotta find a common standard, man. We all must be able to agree that this kind of behaviour is unacceptable; is wrong. Why can't we all just get along? (Sorry. It's been a long post.)

Decency is not just something to do to get something in return. You could "Good morning, Miss," til you're blue in the face, it doesn't necessarily mean the woman will hand over her telephone number. No, just be decent because it makes you a better you. It helps you on the journey to living a fulfilling and rewarding life - in Jamaica or in Australia or wherever. (I was gonna say "successful life", but the definition of success is not the same for everyone.) You may have heard the saying, "We hire for aptitude. We fire for attitude." Yeah. That.

A Word: Respect
The conversation continues, no doubt, online and offline. The message needs to get through to minds and hearts, and a huge part of that message is Respect.

(Note: Thanks to sis, Durie, for her feedback on the draft of this post. Much appreciated!)


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Water to the Rescue

This is pretty good timing. It's summer. In a few weeks, the temps will start falling - sharply. Over the years, I've noticed that whenever the temperatures move sharply in either direction, I develop those horrible, horrible facial appliques: cold sores/fever blisters/night fever. Yeeaaah.

Most people who get these cold sores get them on their upper lip. In my case? On. My. Nose. You heard me. And, it's not like I get to stay home while this thing manifests itself all over my face. (Which is what it feels like.) Nooo. I still gotta go outside; talk to people; go to work and attend meetings.

Apart from the fact that those things are painful and annoying, they are terribly unsightly. You walk around thinking everyone is looking at that...that thing on your face!

So, imagine my relief when I heard about Abreva. All that was required was to apply a bit to the area at the first tingle. As a matter of fact, they made it sound like we should kinda anticipate when it was gonna turn up, and apply it preemptively. But, first tingle was a good gauge. I bought it - almost $20 for a 2g tube! - and tried it for few seasons. It didn't remove it overnight, but, through frequent application (I'm almost sure I applied more often than instructed), it didn't last as long. The thing stayed put and started drying up after about four days instead of six or...fifteen. Again, how it felt.

Then, one day, I happened to be talking to my mom about something or other. She mentioned that she always keeps a glass of water by her bedside to have some during the night. I started doing that. It wasn't until some time after a change from one season to another, that I realised I had not been afflicted with a cold sore! If what I had felt after using the Abreva was relief, what I felt after "using" the water was sheer joy!

It's been almost two years and I have not had another cold sore since starting my nightly water regimen. I have a glass of water before bed and another when I get back from the loo in the middle of the night. It's like clockwork, now. There are a few other health benefits, too. And, not to mention, as a friend of mine said once when I was letting some thoughts get the better of me, "Oh, have some water. I know it relaxes you." It does. And, I still smile at that.

"Talk to your doctor to see if water is right for you." Yeeaaah. That's not an ad we're gonna see anytime soon, is it?



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Train Wrecks Are Hard to Watch

Ask me what I'm doing.

Glad you asked. Apart from writing this post, I'm watching highlights of the Brazil vs Germany World Cup match I watched in its entirety earlier this afternoon. Now, I don't know what has happened to me of late. I tune in during the day. (My work gets done. Led the Annual Report project this year and was told that it was the first time it was submitted up the ladder by the deadline. But I digress.) I watch the matches and get home and tune in to watch the Adidas Prime Time highlights on CBC. Who is this? And what has happened to her?...me?

I'm not a huge fan of any sport. Cricket, football, wrestling (yes, it's real - enough) and track and field were part of my childhood. These days, I don't find myself in "I gotta see this game!" mode, ordinarily. But, I do get into the spirit of things once I start following a game. It was like that with Canada and hockey during the winter Olympics. It's contagious, man!  This year, I decided - well, @MizDurie and I decided - we'd root for Argentina. The decision was made rather quickly and without fanfare. We thought we should carry a team and we went with Argentina. In making our announcement, we tweeted/RT'd asking folks to scoot over on the wagon. (Funny. People say "wagonist" as though it were a bad thing.)

The first couple of games they played had us wondering. I noticed a few people asking whether other teams' wagons had room! Lol! But, as I said to one person, I stick. Well, so far, so good. Argentina has made it to the semi finals and they play the Netherlands tomorrow.

But today. Today was not Brazil's best day. The rate of my tweets about the unfolding massacre could hardly keep up: In minutes 11, 23, 24, 26, 29, 69 and 79 Germany fired off those goals like they'd brought tanks onto the field and were executing with precision. It was one of the most devastating onslaughts I have ever witnessed in the sport. And, to think, at this level! In Brazil's own office! Those Germans were scoring in poetry and celebrating in prose.

Of course, Twitter was doing what Twitter does - being hilarious and, occasionally irreverent. There was simply shock and awe and disbelief all around. After the...match - and I use that term loosely - newspapers the world over screamed similar headlines, all underscoring the horror we had all just witnessed. Here's a report on FIFA's website for Brazil coach Scolari's response. The cameras picked up Brazil's supporters in tears. Correction. Supporters were bawling. Players, too. There is crying in football. It was hard to watch. Correction. It was really excruciating to watch. Finally, in the 90th minute, Brazil got one in. Summed up quite aptly by the commentator, "I've never seen a less celebrated goal in all my life. The Brazilian supporters don't know whether to laugh or to cry or to cheer or to ...groan." I imagined by then, for the Germans, the thrill of victory had waned a bit. Brazil's agony from the sheer terror of defeat? Not so much.

The catastrophe was like a train wreck - hard to watch but we couldn't look away.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Could I Make It In Kindergarten?

Most schools have, by now, let out for the summer break. My almost Two year-old nephew's school...day care...early childhood...place (I really gotta brush up on this for future reference) is no exception. I got wind of his report card and the little fellow mastered all areas. Cool.

The areas under evaluation, however, got me thinking. Koko, so affectionately called, is almost Two. He has mastered the motor skill of scribbling spontaneously. Uh-huh! Question is, have I mastered the skill of scribbling spontaneously? Intrigued as to where this evaluation of my motor, cognitive and social/language skills would lead, I decided to take the plunge and consider a few areas in each category. Could I make it in kindergarten? Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it. Try it.


Motor Skills

Can feed self with spoon: For the most part, yes. I have a pretty good idea how wide I've opened my mouth to receive self-fed food.

Able to drink from a cup with lid/without lid: Well, which is it?! And, have they never heard of straws?

Walks up/down stairs with help: Did I mention that I fell up the stairs the other day? No? I fell up the stairs the other day.

Begins to run: Happy to say, yes. But, what is a respectable, face-saving distance at which to stop?

Scribbles spontaneously: Ace this! Catch me in a meeting. Any meeting.


Cognitive Skills

Begins to participate in make believe play: Around here I call it dreaming. So, yes. It is integral to writing.

Enjoys taking things apart: Have we met?

Wants to explore surroundings: That I do. A.k.a., travel more of the world.

Can/will follow directions: Can't promise outright. It depends.

Points to 3 or 4 body parts when asked: Can't promise outright. It depends.

Enjoys looking at the same books: Yes. And, occasionally, reads them!


Social Skills/Language

Exhibits mature jabbering: But a wha dis Faada? What the heck?

Responds to yes/no questions regarding wants and needs: Yes. Sometimes. Okay, for the most part.

Refers to self by name: Get out!! I used to do that?

Gets angry and has mastered temper tantrums: This one's a trap! A classic "Have you stopped beating your wife?"

Acts shy around strangers: Define "shy".

Engages in parallel play (alongside other children): Never! Okay. Kidding. I've been known to play.


Your turn.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Loyalty Schmoyalty: Which Team's Winning?

My sis, Durie, called to find out how Kiki, our 5yo niece, was coping with the fact that Greece was losing the match last Saturday. See, they had both decided to root for Greece. (I don't know why. Let's move on.) Colombia, though, was leading by two goals on that third day of World Cup 2014. Her mother - our sis - kindly informed her that Kiki had switched over to root for Colombia. She said Kiki had asked her, "Mommy? Where are all the blue people? I'm only seeing yellow!"

When Durie got her on the phone, Kiki quickly explained, "Well, I did start out cheering for Greece, but then Colombia was winning, so I started cheering for Colombia."

I cracked up when I heard that. What made it funnier was the thought that Durie, nestled in her neck of the woods, was thinking she had company in the misery of Greece's predicament. Only to find out after that fateful call that she was "compwetely and utterly awone." (Moulin Rouge)

But, it also got me thinking. The child was innocent and direct in her decision to go with the winning team! After all, who wants to be on the losing side? And, at what age or phase, or under what circumstance, does a sense of loyalty kick in? Sure she could stick with the losing team but...whyyy? In a later conversation with Durie, she said she imagined Kiki thinking, "What's in it for me?" Lol!!! The child had no ties whatsoever - and no qualms about going with the winner.

It was, undeniably, a fascinating thing to behold - a sense of duty and obligation (even if it meant enduring the misery of losing) vs. I'm-switching-to-the-winning-team. And for what? As sis asked, why do we feel so duty bound to stick? Perhaps it is to answer that call to belong; perhaps it is to be regarded as someone who can be relied upon.

In growing up, you definitely win and lose. For, how many of us, truth be told, would like to simply ditch a choice we made - not necessarily re World Cup - and go with a (more) winning option? But, we're all grown up now. Ours is not the luxury to change choices at the drop of a hat because, well, we understand that there may be ripple effects or consequences. There are people's feelings to consider; the job you want to keep; the mortgage to be paid; relationships you want to hold on to; the peace with which you want to go to bed, and so on. People are drawn to - and hold in higher regard - those who can be relied on; those who are there for you not only in the good times. These loyal folks are the ones, who, when you've given your best and haven't quite made the mark, are with you to support you and tell you all is not lost; better days are ahead; the light at the end of the tunnel is not the train coming - and whatever other cliché they can think of. I do see that coming out in my niece. She already has a well-developed kind and supportive way about her.

Our loyalty journey may very well start in our affection for our loved ones. We start with family - our first social group - and show our support as an expression of love. We want those we love to do well. If our little sister enters a 100m race, even if she places second, we don't suddenly start supporting the neighbour's child who placed first, do we? I said, "Do we?" I'm cracking up here because when I suggested that our niece might've continued her support if she'd had had a relative on the team, Durie said she wasn't so sure!

Where the football was concerned, however, Kiki hadn't budged an inch by the Argentina vs Bosnia-Herzegovina match the following day. I sat next to her as the teams played on and casually asked, "Which team are you rooting for?" Without missing a beat, "Which team's winning?" Lol!!!

Can hardly blame her. The lesson on loyalty can wait until after the World Cup. After all, she doesn't have a mortgage.

Yet.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

A Frame of Reference

As I sat surrounded by members of my immediate family, aunts, uncles, and cousins, I couldn't help but think how things have changed over the years. Much has changed. And yet, so little has.

There's a line in the "Sunscreen Song" as it's popularly called, that says, "The older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young." I've loved that "song" (speech set to music, really) since it was released in the late nineties. That line, as so many others in it, rings wise.

Amidst the older folk, I thought back to my early years. Who would've thunk it? A little girl growing up in the hills of upper Clarendon in Jamaica; life taking the curves and turns it has; situations and circumstances playing out as they have, would be where she is today! The Lord has ordered my - our - steps to the present moment. So far, what a ride!

Life now is far different from those early years. But, the principles and legacy of values from those who've gone before, still stand. Whenever we get together, there are bound to be comparisons between generations as to features that bear a striking likeness - whether they be physical features or mannerisms or the way we walk or the inflections in talk. It's usually fun. They make it entertaining.

I realize I'm being vague. It's on purpose. I don't want to make this post about a series of family events. That'd be TMI. :-) Simply wanted to share that it's nice to stop and think, now and then, about where we're coming from and appreciate how far we have come. Sometimes we beat ourselves up because we haven't yet achieved this or done that. The truth is, every day is a struggle. And we're all - well, most of us, I'm wont to think - trying to make the best of it. Pretty sure we'd nod in agreement that we've come a long way and we're doing well. The late Professor Rex Nettleford once said, "We must have a frame of reference upon which to plot the new things that are upon us." How true. Those moments when we pause to reflect on our early years will help give us perspective.

The past few weeks have also given me an opportunity to serve. It's a blessing to be called upon to perform in a care-giving role; to be needed in that way and to carry out that function well. God has given me that strength and ability and it is an honour to be used in that way. As one aunt said today, "I get the feeling she enjoys doing it, you know!" I nodded in agreement, "Yes, I do, actually!" Someone once prayed for me that every thing I put my hands to will be blessed. His prayer continues to be answered in the affirmative.

What's that Bob Marley quote? "If my life a fi mi alone, mi nuh want it."


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

"We Shape Our Tools And Then Our Tools Shape Us."

"We shape our tools and then our tools shape us."
- Marshall McLuhan


Funny thing, how humans are. I like watching how the tools people shape, in turn shape them. The how and how fast they...we...are reshaped by the trappings, incisions and sculptings of our own instruments and devices. It's organic. It's fascinating. Correction: I love watching it.

Sometimes the reshaping unfolds with such organic poetry in motion, drawing us in with stealth and charm, we don't see it coming and, too soon, we can't look away. It's not always poetic, however. And, I imagine, that'd depend on the kind of poetry you're into. It's not always in motion - I'm thinking rhythmic. But, it is always organic.

Our new tools shape us and compel us to take on new norms. And, especially when these tools are tools of communication, and space abounds to interact with other humans, the new norms and unwritten rules grow quickly.

The premise upon which these norms and rules are built is simple - simple and strong and timeless. They are borne of, and rely on, the distinctiveness and predictability of the human condition. We need to belong; to be a part of something or someone. We need to feel we matter. We need to know that what we do has value - and so on.

Enter, Social Media. Specifically, those spaces that give users opportunities to vote/like/fav others' posts/images and what not. I imagine that's, like, all of them, right? I'm here, and on Twitter. Two platforms. That's about as much input from folks in cyberspace I choose to allow in my sphere. I've popped over to Instagram to check out pics when a few tweeps share an IG link - and I care. I'm no longer on FB - too psychologically demanding. (We've talked about that, yes?) Even comment sections in online newspapers allow readers to rate the quality/value of their fellow readers' thoughts. At every turn, if you wish to express an opinion or share a thought, you may expect to be rated/judged/marked.

Some rely on this. Some - it would seem - live for the sort of adulation showered upon them in these open spaces. The struggle for validation is real. It is such a waste of the person one is, but, it does happen.

What fascinates me, though, is that the rules are made up and applied as we go along - and how. We start using the tool and we institute our own rules - unknown to anyone else - regarding how we're going to "do this thing." Soon, as interactions and fans/friends/followers multiply; as we note their own rules and interact accordingly, something begins to happen. A general consensus and understanding begins to take shape about how we interact and why we now interact the way we do. A quick example is the fav/star button on Twitter. In the beginning, it was used primarily for that. You hit the star if the tweet was a favorite. Over time, people began to fav tweets for many reasons. I now do it for three reasons: I want to read it later. (It's easier to find in your favs than to go hunting it down in your tweep's, or, worse, some stranger's timeline.) I want to acknowledge someone who's mentioned/tagged me, but I don't want to have a convo. I want to end a convo with a tweep but without words. So, again with the acknowledgement bit. Oh, four. I actually like the tweet. Heh heh.

Look, there's no Twitter commandment that says thou shalt not steal tweets. Yet, people copy others' tweets and tweet them as if they were their own all the time. And if someone repeatedly does that, persons will not like it and they are likely to unfollow or block that user. Why? For the same reason you'd not want to associate with a thief, or someone who plagiarizes, in real life. It may be an online space, but associations and interactions are real and moving - for the most part. The bots and spammers get no love whatsoever. We get in. We pick up on little cues and norms. We figure out what's what, perhaps with some guidance along the way. Pretty soon, we find our comfort zone in how we want to "do this thing." Who people are in real life is what they come to the online space with if they are genuine in their interactions. Just give 'em time. It'll all come out in the wash. That's why the norms are so easily established. And the new norms - unique to that particular online space - arise partly because "the medium is the message" (McLuhan) and also because...humans.

What's also interesting is how some folks, over time, move away from their, well, their "original persona" as followers and such, grow. After all, one is now popular and has influence. Some go the route of commenting in a more, 'ow you saay, responsible manner. Others, not so much. It is true that these spaces can and do entice us to assume a different persona from the one we started out with, especially when we're chasing popularity. Who's to say which are the true colors?

I just recalled a lil quote by President George "Dubya" Bush during an interview after he'd left the presidency: "If you chase popularity, you're chasing a moment. You're chasing a poof of air." Thought I'd share it. You're welcome. :-)


The Quiet Zone
Several months ago, GO Transit introduced the Quiet Zone on the top floor of every coach of all their trains during rush hour. Now, prior to this designated Quiet Zone, any car of most GO trains were near deathly quiet. Well, I understand there was one line that had folks talking loudly in the evenings. Looks like people complained. GO did a pilot project with that particular line. And the rest is what we have here.

Before the Quiet Zone, on the Lakeshore West in the mornings - and evenings, come to think of it - you could hear a pin drop. There was the occasional conversation but these were few and far between and in hushed tones. The majority of commuters were plugged in or reading or catching a snooze.

Then came the Quiet Zone. Signs went up. The Customer Service Ambassadors (CSA) included it in their welcome announcements. All was mostly well with the world. That is, until a newbie or two, oblivious to the signs and announcements, would start talking. I'd sit in amusement as I watched other passengers squirm or give the person the look. As a matter of fact, I've even seen folks who could no longer contain their angst triggered by someone having a quiet phone conversation, get up from their seat, or turn around in their seat, and direct the talker's attention to the sign. Or, say to the transgressor, "This is the Quiet Zone, you can't be talking on the phone." Yeah. That happened.

Fact is, the sign in the QZ says short telephone conversations are okay; use your ear piece to listen to music and make sure it's not loud enough for anyone else to hear. That sort of thing. But, you know, now we have become accustomed to the Zone being deathly quiet. The least bit of interruption of the silence, and folks will get up and leave the Zone. I kid you not. I have seen that happen, too.

GO Transit created the Quiet Zone tool for the comfort of passengers, when most of the passengers were already comfortable and accommodating of a bit of ambient noise. Now, passengers have been programmed to expect Bose headphones quiet and many are now easily irritated when they hear a pin drop.

Because...humans.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro