are we all speaking our own language?
Since I moved to New York, I’ve been unintentionally gathering evidence for this little suspicion I have: we’re all speaking our own language. Communication is, for lack of a better word, “off”- and I’m talking about the conversation that happens between two native English speakers. With so many interfaces for correspondence these days, from i-phones, blackberries and sidekicks, to texting and email, to good old-fashioned phone calls, why is it so difficult for two people to get on the same metaphorical page?
Mis-communication in the work place can be a serious hindrance in fulfilling day-to-day tasks. I’m somewhat of an expert in manners of communication, or so I might claim. I mean, my job title does contain the word “coordinator.” Though, truth be told, more often than not, it feels like I’m assuming the role of “translator.” For example, my day in the office a couple of weeks ago consisted of back-and-forth emails with a client (with practically the entire world cc’ed on these emails) and for some reason, we could not for the life of us understand each-other (and I suppose no one on emails understand enough to chime in, either.) What started out as a simple request became the biggest headache I’ve ever had on a Monday afternoon. As clear and concise as I tried to convey the issue, the responses I was getting felt as if they were directed at another client entirely. Eventually, we got on a call, opened up every relevant Excel file and PDF doc, and slowly read aloud row numbers and column letters to get down to the nitty-gritty. “Oh, ok… we’ll send that right over.” A revelation indeed! Was I really that unclear the first 70 times I described the problem?
While transmission lines are so easily befuddled, once both parties are seeing eye-to-eye and an intelligible connection has been made, there’s a sense of calmness, or euphoria. After an experience like the above, I resolve to adhere by several guidelines in my next attempt to reach out to others. Like, use less words when trying to convey a problem to others- the less words to misinterpret, right?
And at times, the frustration turns to comedy. In a recent train of emails with inter-department co-workers, while one co-worker attempted to explain a situation, in what I’m sure other tech-y people would understand perfectly, many of us quite literally did not understand a single word. How could a bunch of independently coherent words seem so confusing; I re-read and re-read the sentence until I saw another email top my Inbox. “That sounded like Charlie Brown wrote the email” one of my other co-workers wrote. THANK YOU! Another intelligent being corroborating my confusion and we could all laugh at our inability to understand.
Could all this confusion be a painful result of our inevitable multi-tasking? Suffice it to say that our “multi-tasking” doesn’t align with the “multi-tasking” of others. So how do we get on the same page as our colleagues when their number one priority is at the bottom of our to-do’s and vice versa? Even after I self-analyze and resolve myself to be more thorough, more anticipatory of others, etc., and put these methods into action- the result remains the same. Given all the perfect ingredients: the proper words and the right timing, the outcome is almost always the same- confusion. Some might take more time to clear the dialogue hurdle than others, but perplexity is certainly not a rarity. Is there an end in sight?
The face-to-face interaction might be where the most understanding occurs. Or at least, we feign understanding of others in their physical presence. I haven’t quite figured out why- to dodge awkwardness and humility when proven wrong? Do we really understand each other that much easier when in the physical presence of another? Or is it all a front we put forth, to get behind our blackberries and laptops to ask the real questions, and admit the heart-wrenching, “I don’t understand.”
Recently, I was at a poetry reading by poet and author Ben Okri. Okri stated, “no two people have the same reality.” Are we doomed to live in our own little words? Doomed sounds all too apocalyptic, maybe the hope lies in the little moments of understanding…you know what I’m saying?
