Immediacy behaviors. Trust me, you know all about them. OK, sure, we're not all familiar with this technical jargon, but believe me, immediacy behaviors are used by each and every one of us in our relationships.
Defined by our friendly neighborhood textbook as "actions that signal warmth, communicate availability, decrease psychological or physical distance, and promote involvement between people," immediacy behaviors are something that every single one of us has recognized and used at some point in our lives. Unless you live under a rock and you've never met anybody. Simply put, these behaviors are how we get close to people!
Now, if we want to communicate closeness, we can implement any or all of these verbal and non-verbal behaviors. What are they, you ask? Immediacy behaviors include everything from our choice of words to the ways we address people, from our body movements to the eye contact we make. Each of these behaviors can be used in a way to communicate that we are becoming close(r) in relationship with somebody.
Now I'm not sure what sort of commentary to add to this reading. Chapter 6 talks about these behaviors as increasing intimacy, yet I can't seem to think that the wrong use of these behaviors will lead to anything BUT that. Take for example, the case of someone who just doesn't know how to act in social situations. Call him Coburn, call him anything you want, but this guy is just really bad at that whole "being normal" thing. Sure, this guy's been close with people, but often immediacy behaviors that work in one relationship certainly don't work in another!
How will our friend use immediacy behaviors like making excitable hand gestures and telling jokes? Well, he might use these to try to demonstrate a spontaneous and fun-loving sense of self -- it may be attractive and draw some people to him who want to be his friend. However, those same behaviors could repulse others... "Did he just tell that joke? He's so stupid, I would never want to be friends with him!" Sure, it's a drastic example, but I think it demonstrates that some behaviors can be used to draw people closer, but can actually tend to push others away. Don't believe me? Try making intense eye contact with the next random person you meet. Do that, and I guarantee the relationship will last all of 5 seconds. You're not really gonna draw too close to that person... In fact, you'll just be pretty damn creepy.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Interpersonal Communication #5
Because chapter 5 was oh-so-lengthy, I get to write 2 blog posts about it! Could life get better?!?! Yes, if I had Oreos and peanut butter as I write this, it could. Alas, whole-grain Goldfish will have to do. Turns out, Ch. 5 has some really great stuff to cover, specifically regarding how relationships intensify.
Now I know I already wrote about breadth and depth of self-disclosure, but there is another theory about relationship intensification that stands out. The "Turning-Point Approach" is worth writing about, for a number of reasons. First, it's a unique way to look at our relationships. Second, I have a kick-ass example to write about. And third, it's true. Probably... I guess it's up to you, and that's why they call it a "theory." Nevertheless, it certainly seems to resonate with many of my relationships.
"Alright, get to the punchline," you're probably saying. Well, the TPA--that's a technical term coined by the experts that I now like to use--states that there are many different, specific events in our relationships that are crucial to our relational development. Hence, they act as"turning points" in our relationship, for better or for worse. For instance, your first kiss with someone or the first time you meet the family... each is a specific event that has the possibility of propelling the relationship or even terminating it.
Now, I think this seems pretty logical. I know from experience that it's pretty tough to not let any sort of major events affect your relationship in any way. Therefore, it is my belief that the theory seems pretty resonable. To illustrate this point (here comes the kick-ass part you've been waiting for), I want to talk about the Bryant Players' show that I went to see last weekend. (OK, I admit, it's really not as great of an example as I've been trying to hype).
In the show--titled "All in the Timing"--the audience observed a young couple developing a relationship over a short period of time in which each action had a specific consequence to the relationship. While the show serves simply as a small example of a much smaller-scale relationship, it was still very interesting to see the different effects on the central couple's relationship. The witty and clever script gave the actors different lines and actions that affected the relationship. The best part: every time one of the actions was made/lines was said that made the relationship take a turn for the worst, a bell was rung to signify the character must "try again" with a different turning point that would develop the relationship instead of hurt it.
Sure, this example is slightly out of context, but when thinking about the Turning-Point Approach, it seems to fit perfectly. Regardless, I now know that it's certainly a big turning point to ask a girl to marry you on your first date -- and it's certainly not a good turning point.
Now I know I already wrote about breadth and depth of self-disclosure, but there is another theory about relationship intensification that stands out. The "Turning-Point Approach" is worth writing about, for a number of reasons. First, it's a unique way to look at our relationships. Second, I have a kick-ass example to write about. And third, it's true. Probably... I guess it's up to you, and that's why they call it a "theory." Nevertheless, it certainly seems to resonate with many of my relationships.
"Alright, get to the punchline," you're probably saying. Well, the TPA--that's a technical term coined by the experts that I now like to use--states that there are many different, specific events in our relationships that are crucial to our relational development. Hence, they act as"turning points" in our relationship, for better or for worse. For instance, your first kiss with someone or the first time you meet the family... each is a specific event that has the possibility of propelling the relationship or even terminating it.
Now, I think this seems pretty logical. I know from experience that it's pretty tough to not let any sort of major events affect your relationship in any way. Therefore, it is my belief that the theory seems pretty resonable. To illustrate this point (here comes the kick-ass part you've been waiting for), I want to talk about the Bryant Players' show that I went to see last weekend. (OK, I admit, it's really not as great of an example as I've been trying to hype).
In the show--titled "All in the Timing"--the audience observed a young couple developing a relationship over a short period of time in which each action had a specific consequence to the relationship. While the show serves simply as a small example of a much smaller-scale relationship, it was still very interesting to see the different effects on the central couple's relationship. The witty and clever script gave the actors different lines and actions that affected the relationship. The best part: every time one of the actions was made/lines was said that made the relationship take a turn for the worst, a bell was rung to signify the character must "try again" with a different turning point that would develop the relationship instead of hurt it.
Sure, this example is slightly out of context, but when thinking about the Turning-Point Approach, it seems to fit perfectly. Regardless, I now know that it's certainly a big turning point to ask a girl to marry you on your first date -- and it's certainly not a good turning point.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Interpersonal Communication #4
Ugggghhh, I literally just wrote this 4th blog post, then went to publish it. Then, it told me there was an error, and it couldn't be posted (and I lost the entire post I had just written). As such, this new post I'm writing is much shorter than it should have been, because I don't have the time or energy to write it all over again. What a pain in the ass. Procrastination FTW!
Anyway, two blog posts in one day! I am a procrastinator, so now (just days before these posts are actually due), I am finally getting around to reading and journaling. Chapter 5 is tonight's discussion -- seems to give me enough to talk about, as the bulk of the chapter discusses self-disclosure in our relationships.
Now, looking at this topic, I can think of plenty of awkward situations to mention that relate perfectly to the chapter! haha... now, I need to come up with the most interesting, weird, or relatable one. Before I get ahead of myself, I must explain what I mean by self-disclosure in relationships. Basically, it means the amount of things you're willing to reveal about yourself, depending on the different level of relationship you have. Self-disclosure will reach a greater depth (more intimacy) and breadth (wider range of topics you reveal) as your relationship grows from superficial to social to a core rleationship.
Obviously, I'm not going to go up to the cashier at the grocery store and say "my girlfriend broke up with me, because she says I don't listen, I'm afraid of commitment, and I smell. (disclaimer: this DID NOT happen. really.) No, this is a superficial relationship; thus, I'm more likely to go up and disclose very little, but instead ask "Hey, what do you think of all this snow we've been getting?" or "Seen any good movies that are out lately?"
On the other hand, as a relationship becomes social, self-disclosure becomes a little more intimate and has a broader range. We start to reveal more about oursleves. Asking for advice about a class or revealing an experience that made you grow stronger can be improtant to growing those relationships... Eventually, they may grow to your closest, core relationships, where self-disclosure is at its greatest. Furthermore, I can have superficial conversations with one of my core relationships, but I'm not limited to just that -- I have a greater depth and breadth of self-disclosure (which is usually mutual for one of these types of relationships). For instance, if I wanted some advice about whether or not to trasfer schools, or I wanted to confide in someone about a recent friend problem, I could do that with someone that I've known and disclosed more to over time.
Of course, there are those times when people you don't know very well (or even at all) cross a whole lotta boundaries in a very short time -- like when I get hugged by random strangers on "National Hugs Day" (which I am almost positive has to be a fictitious Facebook event for high school students). All of this talk brings me to my funny story for the day. When someone discloses way too much about themselves in a very short amount of time, it can be very awkward, and will either turn very funny or incredibly uncomfortable. Take this instance from a few months ago:
As an RA on campus, I often have inebriated residents come up to me to do one of two things: either tell me how much they love me or tell me how much of an ass I am. However, on this particular weekend night, a student who I had never seen before thought it would be a bright idea (drunk as he was) to come up to me, tell me that he planned on having sex with as many girls as he could that night, then proceed to ask me who the best girls to bed on campus were... WTF? First of all, who is this loser? Second, what kind of question is that? Thirdly, at a school of over 3,000 students, what makes him think I'm qualified to answer him? I told him that he should head back to his own room, since his night was probably over, and I didn't want him causing a ruckus that could get out of hand. He then decided it was the perfect time to start crying, lean on my shoulder, and tell me that none of his girlfirends had ever liked him... Hmmm, gee, I wonder what made him think that...? Apparently, for him, drunk self-disclosure knew no depth or breadth. Go figure.
Anyway, two blog posts in one day! I am a procrastinator, so now (just days before these posts are actually due), I am finally getting around to reading and journaling. Chapter 5 is tonight's discussion -- seems to give me enough to talk about, as the bulk of the chapter discusses self-disclosure in our relationships.
Now, looking at this topic, I can think of plenty of awkward situations to mention that relate perfectly to the chapter! haha... now, I need to come up with the most interesting, weird, or relatable one. Before I get ahead of myself, I must explain what I mean by self-disclosure in relationships. Basically, it means the amount of things you're willing to reveal about yourself, depending on the different level of relationship you have. Self-disclosure will reach a greater depth (more intimacy) and breadth (wider range of topics you reveal) as your relationship grows from superficial to social to a core rleationship.
Obviously, I'm not going to go up to the cashier at the grocery store and say "my girlfriend broke up with me, because she says I don't listen, I'm afraid of commitment, and I smell. (disclaimer: this DID NOT happen. really.) No, this is a superficial relationship; thus, I'm more likely to go up and disclose very little, but instead ask "Hey, what do you think of all this snow we've been getting?" or "Seen any good movies that are out lately?"
On the other hand, as a relationship becomes social, self-disclosure becomes a little more intimate and has a broader range. We start to reveal more about oursleves. Asking for advice about a class or revealing an experience that made you grow stronger can be improtant to growing those relationships... Eventually, they may grow to your closest, core relationships, where self-disclosure is at its greatest. Furthermore, I can have superficial conversations with one of my core relationships, but I'm not limited to just that -- I have a greater depth and breadth of self-disclosure (which is usually mutual for one of these types of relationships). For instance, if I wanted some advice about whether or not to trasfer schools, or I wanted to confide in someone about a recent friend problem, I could do that with someone that I've known and disclosed more to over time.
Of course, there are those times when people you don't know very well (or even at all) cross a whole lotta boundaries in a very short time -- like when I get hugged by random strangers on "National Hugs Day" (which I am almost positive has to be a fictitious Facebook event for high school students). All of this talk brings me to my funny story for the day. When someone discloses way too much about themselves in a very short amount of time, it can be very awkward, and will either turn very funny or incredibly uncomfortable. Take this instance from a few months ago:
As an RA on campus, I often have inebriated residents come up to me to do one of two things: either tell me how much they love me or tell me how much of an ass I am. However, on this particular weekend night, a student who I had never seen before thought it would be a bright idea (drunk as he was) to come up to me, tell me that he planned on having sex with as many girls as he could that night, then proceed to ask me who the best girls to bed on campus were... WTF? First of all, who is this loser? Second, what kind of question is that? Thirdly, at a school of over 3,000 students, what makes him think I'm qualified to answer him? I told him that he should head back to his own room, since his night was probably over, and I didn't want him causing a ruckus that could get out of hand. He then decided it was the perfect time to start crying, lean on my shoulder, and tell me that none of his girlfirends had ever liked him... Hmmm, gee, I wonder what made him think that...? Apparently, for him, drunk self-disclosure knew no depth or breadth. Go figure.
Interpersonal Communication #3
Chapter 3's topic: attraction! And, it's Valentine's Day today -- oh boy! Let's talk about attraction. No, really, let's talk about it, because it pisses me off to be alone on Valentine's Day. Today, I described this blessed holiday to a friend: it's like Christmas, full of joy and happiness, and you love to enjoy it and give/get presents, and you love watching other people enjoy it too. However, this Christmas, you get nothing. Sure, it's a great day for many people, and you know in the back of your mind that someday, at some point, you'll love Valentine's Day. But for now, you get coal. Screw you, Cupid!
Moving on from my rant... attraction takes many forms, and we can be attracted to people for many different reasons, whether those reasons are physical, relational, sexual, chemical, or, yes, fatal. Dun-dun-duuuh! Oddly enough, I realize that I have never really bothered to classify anything that I feel as attraction, besides a small crush on the cute girl who sits two seats over in class. My textbook, though, wishes to teach me something different. Attraction is not just sexual tension, but the feeling we get when we desire a relationship with someone -- not necessarily a romantic relationship, but any type of relationship. This means I'm attracted to everyone who I want to be friends with, who I want to learn or gain something from, or who I desire to "get to know."
So let's go over some of these types. First on the agenda, we've got social attraction. I get this one -- it means that I'm attracted to the people in the Bryant Players, because I want to hang with them and I love to act on stage like thy do. Next, we've got physical attraction. Let me tell you, when I see a striking pair (of eyes, that is), I know that something draws me to that girl who glances my way. Thirdly, sexual attraction -- must I explain this one?
Next, relational attraction... it means that you're attracted to someone because you can't stand the thought of not being "in a relationship," and that person seems like they'll fill the need rather well. Now, as much as I mope about V-Day, I can't say I've ever felt this one, because I am more of a commitment kind of guy. We've also got chemical attraction, which gives us a physical sense that the other person is interesting (we simply get a chemical flow in our veins that causes a reaction in us). And let's not forget about fatal attraction, where a wedge is driven in your relationship by the very same qualities that attracted you to that person. When I first met a buddy of mine, I thought it was so "cool" that he had an "I-don't-care" attitude, but when we actually became friends, he really bugged the crap out of me when he just literally couldn't care less about anything.
The last type of attraction, though, is the one I want to talk more about: task attraction. No, it doesn't mean you're attracted to cleaning the bathroom, because that job looks Oh So Fun! It means, there is a task you have as a goal, and you're attracted to someone else merely for the fact that they can help you reach your goal. Ummm, can I point out this is USING people... kinda of a jerk move. Theoretically, though, let's say I'm guilty of doing this. Not saying that I am (though I defnitely am)... I just want to examine if a task attraction always counts as using someone, or if it can actually develop into a good relationship. I think the answer is yes, it can become more than just a usurious relationship; however, I think it would really suck for the other person to find out that you were only attracted at a "task" level initially.
Thinking of this makes me think of about 1,001 romantic comedies (oh great, I've still got V-Day on the brain). Now, before I give my example, I've got to do some "corrective facework" and make my excuse: growing up with 5 sisters means that I've seen them all, from The Notebook to The Wedding Singer to Legally Blonde to Mamma Mia! So, in honor of this festive day, I'm going to give an example, using one of the movies that I can actually stomach (hey, growing up the way I did, you've gotta learn to like 'em -- when it comes down to renting a movie, I certainly get overthrown on my Die Hard choice).
In 27 Dresses, Katherine Heigl's character is a (frazzled, organized, and cliched) typical rom-com woman, who is so selfless that she's been her friends' bridesmaid 27 times, but has yet to be the bride (cue: Awwww!). The (charming, cynical, and cliched) typical rom-com guy is a reporter who needs one big story to fill the wedding section of his paper, and then he'll finally get his big promotion. Hence, reporter-guy is initially attracted to our friend Katie, since he realizes she can be his ticket to a pay-raise and front-page story. Of course, heroine Katie eventually finds out that he is essentially using her, but--after a 5-minute montage of moping and a split-second-but-actually-few-months-long breakup--comes to her senses and realizes that he's her true love. Reporter guy is ecstatic, because his "task attraction" has now become "sexual attraction" -- and that, my friend, is Hollywood's formula for an instant romantic comedy! Just add chocolate and pop music, then stir until it is sufficiently sweet and sickening.
Bottom line, Hollywood has taught me some things about attraction. Namely, attraction doesn't always (read: never does) work the way it does in the movies, but attraction certainly can take different forms. Now let's drink to being single on Valentine's Day.
Moving on from my rant... attraction takes many forms, and we can be attracted to people for many different reasons, whether those reasons are physical, relational, sexual, chemical, or, yes, fatal. Dun-dun-duuuh! Oddly enough, I realize that I have never really bothered to classify anything that I feel as attraction, besides a small crush on the cute girl who sits two seats over in class. My textbook, though, wishes to teach me something different. Attraction is not just sexual tension, but the feeling we get when we desire a relationship with someone -- not necessarily a romantic relationship, but any type of relationship. This means I'm attracted to everyone who I want to be friends with, who I want to learn or gain something from, or who I desire to "get to know."
So let's go over some of these types. First on the agenda, we've got social attraction. I get this one -- it means that I'm attracted to the people in the Bryant Players, because I want to hang with them and I love to act on stage like thy do. Next, we've got physical attraction. Let me tell you, when I see a striking pair (of eyes, that is), I know that something draws me to that girl who glances my way. Thirdly, sexual attraction -- must I explain this one?
Next, relational attraction... it means that you're attracted to someone because you can't stand the thought of not being "in a relationship," and that person seems like they'll fill the need rather well. Now, as much as I mope about V-Day, I can't say I've ever felt this one, because I am more of a commitment kind of guy. We've also got chemical attraction, which gives us a physical sense that the other person is interesting (we simply get a chemical flow in our veins that causes a reaction in us). And let's not forget about fatal attraction, where a wedge is driven in your relationship by the very same qualities that attracted you to that person. When I first met a buddy of mine, I thought it was so "cool" that he had an "I-don't-care" attitude, but when we actually became friends, he really bugged the crap out of me when he just literally couldn't care less about anything.
The last type of attraction, though, is the one I want to talk more about: task attraction. No, it doesn't mean you're attracted to cleaning the bathroom, because that job looks Oh So Fun! It means, there is a task you have as a goal, and you're attracted to someone else merely for the fact that they can help you reach your goal. Ummm, can I point out this is USING people... kinda of a jerk move. Theoretically, though, let's say I'm guilty of doing this. Not saying that I am (though I defnitely am)... I just want to examine if a task attraction always counts as using someone, or if it can actually develop into a good relationship. I think the answer is yes, it can become more than just a usurious relationship; however, I think it would really suck for the other person to find out that you were only attracted at a "task" level initially.
Thinking of this makes me think of about 1,001 romantic comedies (oh great, I've still got V-Day on the brain). Now, before I give my example, I've got to do some "corrective facework" and make my excuse: growing up with 5 sisters means that I've seen them all, from The Notebook to The Wedding Singer to Legally Blonde to Mamma Mia! So, in honor of this festive day, I'm going to give an example, using one of the movies that I can actually stomach (hey, growing up the way I did, you've gotta learn to like 'em -- when it comes down to renting a movie, I certainly get overthrown on my Die Hard choice).
In 27 Dresses, Katherine Heigl's character is a (frazzled, organized, and cliched) typical rom-com woman, who is so selfless that she's been her friends' bridesmaid 27 times, but has yet to be the bride (cue: Awwww!). The (charming, cynical, and cliched) typical rom-com guy is a reporter who needs one big story to fill the wedding section of his paper, and then he'll finally get his big promotion. Hence, reporter-guy is initially attracted to our friend Katie, since he realizes she can be his ticket to a pay-raise and front-page story. Of course, heroine Katie eventually finds out that he is essentially using her, but--after a 5-minute montage of moping and a split-second-but-actually-few-months-long breakup--comes to her senses and realizes that he's her true love. Reporter guy is ecstatic, because his "task attraction" has now become "sexual attraction" -- and that, my friend, is Hollywood's formula for an instant romantic comedy! Just add chocolate and pop music, then stir until it is sufficiently sweet and sickening.
Bottom line, Hollywood has taught me some things about attraction. Namely, attraction doesn't always (read: never does) work the way it does in the movies, but attraction certainly can take different forms. Now let's drink to being single on Valentine's Day.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Interpersonal Communication #2
Identity. Apparently, everyone builds one by disclosing information, including personality traits, habits, likes/dislikes, and many other things. In reading chapter 2 of my textbook, I found it fascinating to hear of theories, such as the "looking-glass slef" and others. But one of the most applicable and interesting things was learning about "corrective facework."
So what does that mean, you ask? Well, let's start at the very beginning ("a very good place to start..." Shit, now I have that stupid Sound of Music song stuck in my head. Moving on!). Our identity is defined by how we present ourselves and what we want others to think of us, but also the feedback we get of what others actually think of us. Hence, if something is said or done that we don't like--because we don't want that to be our identity--we try to slap a band-aid on it to "save face," so to speak. This is what corrective facework means.
There are different types of corrective facework (or so I read... I wouldn't really have bothered to give my actions labels, but my textbook tells me to). These can include apologies, accounts (trying to justify what happened), humor, avoidance, aggression, and remediation. Now, if anybody other than someone knowledgeable in the Communication field were to read this, it would look like jargon. Hence, allow me to explain with an example from my own life (and an irritating example at that... Why must I re-hash situations that pissed me off the first time? Anyway, rant over):
When I think of traits that I consider to make up my identity, a few come to mind: devilishly handsome, insanely boring, hopelessly romantic, genius, incredibly shy, athletic, sardonic. Ok, so anyone who knows me knows that I'm kidding... Many of these do not apply, but there is one trait that I consider a key aspec of my identity: my organization skills. I have always been (and, had it not been for this situation, probably would have always continued to be) a freakishly organized person. However, at the start of last semester, I had way too much crap that I moved into my dorm room, and I couldn't find the time to get everything put away. As such, I had a gigantic pile of papers, clothing, and assorted paraphernalia in the center of my room for much of last semester. Believe me, this pile of crap (approximate diameter: 5 feet) occupied as much of my mind as it did my room, yet I had nary a second to spare to actually sort through it and clean it up. Bear with me, this story has a point.
Things get interesting when I realize how much this pile actually affected my identity. All last semester, friends would come over and say things like, "Wow Coburn, you are so disorganized!" and "Coburn, do you ever clean?" As much as I tried corrective facework--whether I told them that I was planning on cleaning that night or I had just gotten sick and had no energy to be organized--I started to realize that this pile was single-handedly commiting identity theft! Was I really an organized person? I was certainly not being validated by others who knew me, so maybe that meant I was actually someone different than I thought I was.
The corrective facework I tried started with excuses, but it moved to humor as the semester went on. "Oh, I'm thinking of putting a blanket on the pile and letting people use it like a beanbag chair," or "Yeah, that pile is so organized that your brain can't even understand what it's seeing"... Alas, all was to no avail -- I eventually turned to aggression. Thanksgiving rolled around, and my once-organized self was now incredibly threatened by what friends were saying. I no longer felt like "organized" was a part of my identity, as my "corrective facework" had been anything but. So I grabbed a big plastic bag, picked up all the papers and shit, threw everything into the bag, and marched out to the dumpster. Problem solved! :)
I should stop writing now, though. I haven't been able to find my watch in months, and I can't think of what I could have done with it.
So what does that mean, you ask? Well, let's start at the very beginning ("a very good place to start..." Shit, now I have that stupid Sound of Music song stuck in my head. Moving on!). Our identity is defined by how we present ourselves and what we want others to think of us, but also the feedback we get of what others actually think of us. Hence, if something is said or done that we don't like--because we don't want that to be our identity--we try to slap a band-aid on it to "save face," so to speak. This is what corrective facework means.
There are different types of corrective facework (or so I read... I wouldn't really have bothered to give my actions labels, but my textbook tells me to). These can include apologies, accounts (trying to justify what happened), humor, avoidance, aggression, and remediation. Now, if anybody other than someone knowledgeable in the Communication field were to read this, it would look like jargon. Hence, allow me to explain with an example from my own life (and an irritating example at that... Why must I re-hash situations that pissed me off the first time? Anyway, rant over):
When I think of traits that I consider to make up my identity, a few come to mind: devilishly handsome, insanely boring, hopelessly romantic, genius, incredibly shy, athletic, sardonic. Ok, so anyone who knows me knows that I'm kidding... Many of these do not apply, but there is one trait that I consider a key aspec of my identity: my organization skills. I have always been (and, had it not been for this situation, probably would have always continued to be) a freakishly organized person. However, at the start of last semester, I had way too much crap that I moved into my dorm room, and I couldn't find the time to get everything put away. As such, I had a gigantic pile of papers, clothing, and assorted paraphernalia in the center of my room for much of last semester. Believe me, this pile of crap (approximate diameter: 5 feet) occupied as much of my mind as it did my room, yet I had nary a second to spare to actually sort through it and clean it up. Bear with me, this story has a point.
Things get interesting when I realize how much this pile actually affected my identity. All last semester, friends would come over and say things like, "Wow Coburn, you are so disorganized!" and "Coburn, do you ever clean?" As much as I tried corrective facework--whether I told them that I was planning on cleaning that night or I had just gotten sick and had no energy to be organized--I started to realize that this pile was single-handedly commiting identity theft! Was I really an organized person? I was certainly not being validated by others who knew me, so maybe that meant I was actually someone different than I thought I was.
The corrective facework I tried started with excuses, but it moved to humor as the semester went on. "Oh, I'm thinking of putting a blanket on the pile and letting people use it like a beanbag chair," or "Yeah, that pile is so organized that your brain can't even understand what it's seeing"... Alas, all was to no avail -- I eventually turned to aggression. Thanksgiving rolled around, and my once-organized self was now incredibly threatened by what friends were saying. I no longer felt like "organized" was a part of my identity, as my "corrective facework" had been anything but. So I grabbed a big plastic bag, picked up all the papers and shit, threw everything into the bag, and marched out to the dumpster. Problem solved! :)
I should stop writing now, though. I haven't been able to find my watch in months, and I can't think of what I could have done with it.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Interpersonal Communication #1
To start off my Interpersonal Communication class this semester, I am assigned to write a blog that documents my thoughts on the weekly readings -- weird? I think not. I'm actually kind of excited, as it gives me an excuse to blog again. Since I just got the textbook in (ugh, finally!), even though the semester started a couple of weeks ago, I am a little behind; hence, I'll be writing 4 blogs before next week. Anyway, that's enough of an introduction for my followers. Let the commentary commence!
Upon reading chapter 1, I am struck with quite a few interesting thoughts. Namely--since this chapter specifically deals with defining the various principles amidst our relationships--I am left thinking about my own relationships. The chapter starts off defining three different types of relationships we can have: "role," "interpersonal," or "close" relationships, each defined by a specific set of characteristics.
Now, as any friend/family member/acquaintance/boss/classmate/co-worker/rival/minion/etc. of mine knows, I am someone who values relationships. For whatever purpose they serve, I feel there can be a benefit to each individual one. However, that's not to say I've ever cared to put a coherent thought into how to classify my relationships. The guy who looks at his watch and tells me the time is as much a "friend" to me as the chick who can never seem to get my coffee order right at Dunks (seriously! I'm not at Starbucks, there's no extra soy shit to pump into my drink. I simply asked for it to be light!). But I digress... the point is, I've never bothered to classify these relationships. But, as luck would have it, I get to classify them now! What joy!
Role relationships can classify the aforementioned interactions that I have on a daily basis; but I guess I never realized how many I had! Every time I communicate within one of these types of interactions, I am aiming to fulfill a goal that I have (find out the time, get a light coffee, etc). Once the goal is met, the relationship is over. Kaput. Goodbye. That's all folks... Actually, I guess that's how it is supposed to work. However, I feel that a good percentage of my role relationships eventually morph into interpersonal relationships.
For me, it's difficult to understand where my relationships morph. Sure, I can distinguish which ones simply fulfill a role (and, yes, I do feel more powerful after reading this chapter! :D) versus which ones involve repeated interactions that mutually influence us. But I notice that many of my role relationships have started to morph into interpersonal relationships. Granted, for every one "role relationship" that morphs, five more pop up to take its place -- damn things are like cockroaches. Again I digress...
Take, for instance, my relationship with Marge, the lunch lady outside Salmo. She takes my ID card and swipes it so that I now have access to all of Salmo's delicious glory (excuse me while I puke). That's it. That's her role. Let me into the dining hall. BUUUUT, I've been here at Bryant for 5 semesters, and our repeated interactions have made me, y'know, kinda friends with her. She lets me into the dining hall and asks me about her day; I ask her about her day, tell her a funny story or two, or tell her to just hang in there. Once, I was even so nice as to buy her a book of crossword puzzles one day (hold your applause please). Voila! It seems my relationship has morphed! That's not to say that it's a close relationship, though.
Irreplaceable close relationships, for me, are few and far between. Sure, I have my family and a few friends who are as close as family, and I definitely have a lot of friends. But reading this chapter sort of made me think about all of my friends -- I'm really involved in a lot on campus, but am I really close with a lot of people? Can I honestly say I get a lot of my needs fulfilled by students who I wave to in the dining hall or classmates I study for finals with? I don't think so.
But now this brings me to a big question of my own: where do I draw the line between interpersonal and close relationships? I don't want to give so many of my friends the big ole' "middle finger of technical communication terms" by calling these relationships "interpersonal," instead of "close"... but at the same time, I don't necessarily think I'd share many secrets or heavily confide in more than just a handful of people I know. I guess this is something I'm going to have to think about and discover more as the semester goes on...
Upon reading chapter 1, I am struck with quite a few interesting thoughts. Namely--since this chapter specifically deals with defining the various principles amidst our relationships--I am left thinking about my own relationships. The chapter starts off defining three different types of relationships we can have: "role," "interpersonal," or "close" relationships, each defined by a specific set of characteristics.
Now, as any friend/family member/acquaintance/boss/classmate/co-worker/rival/minion/etc. of mine knows, I am someone who values relationships. For whatever purpose they serve, I feel there can be a benefit to each individual one. However, that's not to say I've ever cared to put a coherent thought into how to classify my relationships. The guy who looks at his watch and tells me the time is as much a "friend" to me as the chick who can never seem to get my coffee order right at Dunks (seriously! I'm not at Starbucks, there's no extra soy shit to pump into my drink. I simply asked for it to be light!). But I digress... the point is, I've never bothered to classify these relationships. But, as luck would have it, I get to classify them now! What joy!
Role relationships can classify the aforementioned interactions that I have on a daily basis; but I guess I never realized how many I had! Every time I communicate within one of these types of interactions, I am aiming to fulfill a goal that I have (find out the time, get a light coffee, etc). Once the goal is met, the relationship is over. Kaput. Goodbye. That's all folks... Actually, I guess that's how it is supposed to work. However, I feel that a good percentage of my role relationships eventually morph into interpersonal relationships.
For me, it's difficult to understand where my relationships morph. Sure, I can distinguish which ones simply fulfill a role (and, yes, I do feel more powerful after reading this chapter! :D) versus which ones involve repeated interactions that mutually influence us. But I notice that many of my role relationships have started to morph into interpersonal relationships. Granted, for every one "role relationship" that morphs, five more pop up to take its place -- damn things are like cockroaches. Again I digress...
Take, for instance, my relationship with Marge, the lunch lady outside Salmo. She takes my ID card and swipes it so that I now have access to all of Salmo's delicious glory (excuse me while I puke). That's it. That's her role. Let me into the dining hall. BUUUUT, I've been here at Bryant for 5 semesters, and our repeated interactions have made me, y'know, kinda friends with her. She lets me into the dining hall and asks me about her day; I ask her about her day, tell her a funny story or two, or tell her to just hang in there. Once, I was even so nice as to buy her a book of crossword puzzles one day (hold your applause please). Voila! It seems my relationship has morphed! That's not to say that it's a close relationship, though.
Irreplaceable close relationships, for me, are few and far between. Sure, I have my family and a few friends who are as close as family, and I definitely have a lot of friends. But reading this chapter sort of made me think about all of my friends -- I'm really involved in a lot on campus, but am I really close with a lot of people? Can I honestly say I get a lot of my needs fulfilled by students who I wave to in the dining hall or classmates I study for finals with? I don't think so.
But now this brings me to a big question of my own: where do I draw the line between interpersonal and close relationships? I don't want to give so many of my friends the big ole' "middle finger of technical communication terms" by calling these relationships "interpersonal," instead of "close"... but at the same time, I don't necessarily think I'd share many secrets or heavily confide in more than just a handful of people I know. I guess this is something I'm going to have to think about and discover more as the semester goes on...
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