Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Networking Is Not What You Think


Contrary to popular belief, being a Good Networker or Connecter Of People doesn't require you to be an extrovert, have a wide range of interests, or attend copious amounts of networking events.

It does, however, require one thing.
It requires you to
Care.

What does care look like, in this context?

To care is to:

1.    Ask good questions.

To care, you must listen. So yes, close your mouth - but then open it again to ask questions. Good questions, that is. Ones that go past How Are You, What Do You Do For A Living, Where Are You (Really) From?
Consider:
'What do you do for work?', followed by 'What is the best part of that sort of work?' 
‘How old are your children?', then 'What sorts of activities are they into?' 
‘What was the last good book you read?' ‘What drew you to it?’

First questions are asked out of courtesy. Follow up questions show genuine interest. We show we’re listening.  We can't connect with people – let alone connect them with each other - if we don't really know them. 

2.    Take note(s)

My dad is an academic. He’s not the typical 'life-of-the-party', nor does he have any hat-tricks, Dad-jokes or famous dishes to share. But he is an excellent networker and never short of friends. And one way he does this is by taking notes.

Classic example: we join a tour group on family holiday. Dad chats to his fellow travellers. At the end of the day, he jots down people's names, plus one thing about them, in his notebook. So whilst the rest of us on day three still have no idea who we are sitting next to, Dad, after 24 hours, knows not just their names but that: Bill is an accountant, married to Betsy; Frank also has teenage daughters; This is Janet’s 60th birthday present (and by the way, we should organise a cake for her) and Gerald is into golf. Note that Dad doesn’t just remember these things, with some amazing super power memory. He knows them because he’s made the effort to record them with simple pen and paper, back in his hotel room.

I used to scorn this as a child, but now I confess I’ve taken up the habit. If I meet you at church, or a backpacker’s event, you'll probably feature in my phone or at the bottom of my Bible notes: ‘Michael - plays keyboard'. 'Isabel - has a ragdoll cat'. ‘Anna - blue hair, works with kids'. Call it creepy, or stalking – only if you can offer me a more effective alternative.

First, we get to know people, then we remember what we know. Only then we can connect others. 

3.    Courageously connect

Ethan showed me twenty Instagram pictures of his Friday night feast. Cathy told me about a new Korean BBQ restaurant in the city. I’m going to connect these two because it seems like they’re foodies - and I’m not. Isabel won’t shut up about her new kitten. Eric always talks about getting a cat, so I’m asking Isabel to brief him about pet ownership. Simon mentions he’s joined a futsal team but when I ask how its going, he says they always seem to be short on players. I know Juan is sporty – well..at least he said he runs. He’s also new to Melbourne. Perhaps he wants to fill in for Simon’s team? No pressure either way, I tell both of them.

I’m aware that none of this connecting may work. But some of it just might - and I will have done it without sharing ANY of their interests. I’ve just taken an interest in the people themselves, noting their interests.

Dare to Care

We live in an age of information overload. From news of war to celebrity breakups to the brunch your best friend is consuming right now, we’re hit with a stream of disconnected information. Our brains aren’t trained to take much in anymore, unless, of course, there’s a scandal or a heroic achievement. The problem is, most people we meet won’t have either on their record. Neither – lets face it – do you and I. Though we’re still worth getting to know, right? Yet just as we scroll through profiles on a screen, we scroll through faces at a party. As we jump from browser to browser, we skim from conversation to conversation.
Shallow; disjointed.

We need to reset; to retrain.

Sounds good on paper/my device, you say – but it’s just not that easy. And you’re right. Which recipe/weight loss program/Master’s degree is harder on paper than in real life?

Building connections with and between people means looking beyond yourself, to others: Rather than switching off in ‘boring’ conversations, you actually recall the content at the end of the night. You create a new Google note. You debate whether to send the seemingly random text, asking yourself: ‘Is this socially appropriate? Or social suicide?’

Wanting to connect people takes effort, risk and humility. It doesn’t always come naturally – but who says we have to be ‘naturals’ at everything we do? If it’s not natural, at least it can become less unnatural. If you’re not intuitive, at least learn to be intentional. There’s nothing wrong with a few tips in the toolbox and a framework to work from. Perhaps this post has served this purpose.

Our world doesn’t need more networking events. It needs more networkers. It’s crying out for connection. It needs care in this context.

Being a Good Networker or Connecter Of People not be your cup of tea. Even so, what question might you ask, what note might you take, what suggestion might you make, for the sake of others?


Friday, April 1, 2022

Gift


22 Feb 2022

In preparation for Christian Backpacker’s 5th Birthday picnic, I ordered a cake. (What’s a birthday without a party – and what’s a party without a cake?). I didn’t have many requirements: it had to feed around 20 people, have a splash of yellow and blue and the number ‘five’. In my hectic existence, that’d do.

But what I picked up from @imbuefoodandwine the day before the event didn’t ‘just do’. It was something not fit for a picnic, but a wedding: a chocolate cake with ganache filling and fondant icing that bore the name, colours and logo of Christian Backpackers. And it was ‘a gift - God bless your ministry,’ she smiled.

‘Hold it carefully, here, from underneath,’ she advised. Let’s just say, I was glad I’d done my squats and bicep curls at the gym that morning - such was its weight. I held it like a baby. I waited until there were NO cars in sight before crossing the busy road back to my car. For the next 24 hours, I guarded it with my life. I put it downstairs, out of the sun, away from the cat. I reinforced a transport box for it. I had nightmares of me squashing it, trying to put it back together and running late for the event (no kidding).

At the picnic-party, the cake didn’t fail to draw attention. Everyone ooohed and ahhhed, snapped pictures, had seconds and took pieces home in the paper cups.  Where did you get this? they marvelled.  ‘It was a gift’, I said, and we marvelled more.  

The food and our festivities made for a memorable night. But amongst it all, there was a slight misunderstanding.  The cake – in all its glory – wasn’t the real gift. The centrepiece of celebration wasn’t chocolate flavoured. Rather, it was the group itself: The community God brought together some 5 years ago, sustained to this day and laced with his grace. The gift was Christian Backpackers.

But how fitting a symbol of this reality was the weighty cake: Rich and sweet and carefully crafted.  Exceeding expectations and a sight to behold. A delight to partake of, with slices to spare. Not of my own doing but a gift to gently hold.  

That night, oh how we did ‘taste and see that the Lord is good….’ Ps 34v8