Hello out there! Are you there? Just let me know you're OK. Please!!
The other day I had three active text message chains blinking on my phone. Three different people were communicating with me at the same time — and I was keeping up. Just. I was monitoring their responses, composing my own, keying them in, sending, and waiting for the next reply. All the while marvelling at what texting enables us to do. Too much, maybe, but sometimes it’s kind of fun.
I don’t always like juggling so many communication balls in the air, but that morning I was well caffeinated and enjoying the challenge — and keeping the three different chains separate and clear one from the other, which isn’t always the case. But today it was.
I’m a communicator. I like connecting with people, having conversations, making meaning with others, sometimes making plans, often merely keeping the thread of relationship alive between us. A quick text asking, ‘How is it going over there?’ or ‘Awful weather today, isn’t it!’ is enough for that.
Which is why I am perplexed when a relationship (personal or professional) is not honoured with even the tiniest amount of connection. A quick text. A short note. A brief update on social media, maybe.
For example —
I follow the news via CBC, both radio and TV. I appreciate many of the reporters and hosts for the quality of journalism they provide, and I particularly admire the host of a late afternoon political show on the TV network. I often have it playing in the background as I begin to wind down the day while preparing dinner; the over-the screen company for me is lively, informative, and often whip-smart — because the host makes it so. When he announced he was taking a few weeks off, I wished him well from my side of the screen and tried to put up with his replacements, but few of them could fill his shoes. As the weeks went on and the host did not return, the CBC fan page on Facebook blew up with concerned viewers wondering what was going on with our beloved host.
Crickets.
No response from the network. No announcements on the show. Nothing. A void of information from an organization that is about nothing if not information — and that relies on the pull of its journalists and hosts to keep the audience watching and listening.
Then, more than six weeks into the hosting void, I happened to catch a brief update from the host on social media explaining that he was on medical leave and that he would be back in April.
I exhaled, was relieved, and moved on.
That’s all it took. A short update acknowledging that “his” viewers were wondering where he was and giving us what we needed: Communication. None of us wanted gossip or personal and private information. We were simply concerned and we wanted — needed — to know whether our favourite political-show host was alright! And why wouldn’t we? We have a relationship with him.
Relationships that are voluntary, built on genuine interest and appreciation, require nurturing; communication is a form of nurturing and of respect. Sure it can go awry, but I’m not talking about that in this case of the TV show host. I’m talking about a relationship that is essential in order for him to do what he does and to be who he is on the CBC network. Without viewers eager to tune in five days a week to watch “talking heads” dissect the politics of the day, his show ceases to be what we have helped make it. So I don’t think it’s too much to want to know where he is and whether he’ll be coming back. His absence is felt in our daily life, leaving big shoes to fill. I’ll be glad when he returns.
Just as I am glad when the friend I have texted with something benign and ordinary or with something unusual and urgent sends a reply. The thread that connects us has been tugged, and I feel it.
I feel the friendship, alive and well.
They are there.
I am here.
Yet we are with each other, in that moment.
Together, in this big unsettled world.
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Your reflections are so pertinent to our world today. I think it is not so much the content of the response we get from folks, whether it be good news or bad news, or critical or supportive of something we have proferred. Just receiving a response tells us that person cares, and so often that is all we are wanting. Take a look around at all of us, so attached to our computers and our phones, most of us just looking for that acknowledgement that we still exist in someone else's mind.
ReplyDeleteHasn’t communication changed during my lifetime! Someone should write a book. You, not me.
ReplyDeleteI love texting.
I hate phone calls that last longer than a couple minutes.
I prefer en face.
And if there must be a phone call, I like a text first to ask if it’s convenient. My precious children are all in a different time zone And their favorite times to call are when I’m doing dinner or when I’m in bed!
But at least they call.
I have developed quite close relationships with people to whom I’ve never spoken. That is. Fine from my side! I used to write and receive long letters, but now that form of communication seems to be a dying art; the last of those friends has died. Really.
I wish now I’d saved all those letters and e mails. Sigh
I so enjoy your communications (maybe because we think alike?). The other day I told Canada Writes, ‘I use my Facebook page as my own personal newspaper’. I’m a magazine columnist and not very often do I receive a response from a reader but sometimes it catches me unawares and brings me joy. I was giving out free tickets to the once a year trade show that my publisher puts on. I walked into a local thrift shop where I thought perhaps the volunteers would appreciate and use the gift. I spoke to the volunteer manager. As I was explaining to her who I was and why I was doing it, she said, “oh I know exactly who you are, I read you and the magazine each edition.” And she grabbed the magazine out of my hands, turned to my column and pointed at my photo, “this is you!” That was a day that I will never forget. When I am writing my column now, it gives me someone think about.
ReplyDeleteThanks for this. You reminded me I hadn’t texted my friend in a bit and got right to it.
ReplyDeleteLove a good long spontaneous phone call, lying on the couch, or driving in the car, or walking the streets. Hate hate hate texting --- ping ping ping - intrusive! If you have to write something, send me an email!
ReplyDeleteOne would think with all the options to communicate, there would not be such a lack of it! I only text to see if available for a quick chat on phone, or sending a very short message...never a conversation...so much gets lost and confused. And you describe very well how one can have a relationship on this side of the screen. It made me smile. Thank you Amanda!
ReplyDeleteThat is so strange that CBC wouldn't let their viewers know. It wouldn't need details, just a heads up for their worried fans. I have a friend who only reaches out when she needs something, an answer, a vent, an ear, and once she gets what she needs, she ghosts me. I see that she's read it, but she chooses not to respond anymore, like a, "conversation's over." I believe she sees it as a find way to be. If it was me, and I was wanting to leave the conversation, I'd end it like a letter. "I got to fly, I hope you have a great week," instead of ghosting. It frustrates me incredibly and I give very little to this relationship now--she is also the friend who told me to keep my writing as a hobby and not quit the job that was sucking the life out of me. haha! I have plenty of fabulous people in my life. ☺️ - Jenn
ReplyDelete