Troubleshooting Communication

Photo from omstrategy.com

   
   
    I am terrible when it comes to my cell phone. It is often about to die, already dead or missing. It is not uncommon for me to selectively answer text messages. In fact, I cannot stand texting. In my face-to-face interactions with people, I find that text messages serve as an unwelcome interruption that demands immediate attention. People get so upset when you do not answer their texts, but I prefer to just get a phone call. If I lost my phone for a week, I would feel absolutely liberated. I imagine that if cell phones were not a vital necessity to live and work in America, I would not even have one.
    
    I do see the perks in people being able to reach one another 24/7, but I like to be unavailable sometimes. In a field where communication is the bread and butter, I cannot afford to abandon this situation without rectification. Public relations is communication. So, I am trying to get it together quickly if I hope to succeed in the workforce. If I want success in all my relationships, communication is the key.

     What is good communication? The website goodcommunicationskills.net explains, "The modern world today, calls for high scale effective communication skills in order to win the heavy competition in all spheres of life." Although I agree with the site, it addresses how to develop good communication skills by “making eye contact” and other verbal and body cues that occur when people interact face-to-face. That's not my problem. It is this new era of communication that is difficult for me. I find myself in a Catch 22. I am articulate in person but aloof online when I need to be consistent across all platforms.

     One poignant argument that the site makes is that communication is essential to management functions. This year, that is exactly where I found myself, managing a royal court of 14 members and having to make sure each of them was “in the loop.” It has been a struggle to say the least to change my ways and adapt to sharing information with so many so frequently without overkill. I do not want them to stop thinking that the messages I send are important, so I have to make sure that I am concise and relevant in all that I say. I’m sure you can guess the mode through which most of our communication takes place: text messaging.

   Now, I am changing my ways to be a better communicator. I send a text message to all the women on the court every morning to keep them on track with whatever tasks we have to complete. I have talked to my father about getting a BlackBerry, so I can answer my e-mails more expeditiously and send out texts to a group larger than 10. I vow to make it my business to master the "matrix" of Internet and mobile communication.

     My generation will not leave me behind.

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A Tribute to the Greatest Connector I know

His friends would probably say it was his smile. His family members would claim it was his good looks. If you ask me, I think he just had a special gift.

Whatever “it” was, Braxton Daryl Johnson exuded it from every fiber of his being. He had a particular ability to make everyone love him. He was one of those radiant personalities who lit up the room with his presence and caused hearts to flutter when he smiled.

He told me a few years ago that his likeability was the secret to his success in the car-selling industry, which helped him garner the title “salesman of the month” for three months in a row at Gem Mazda. “If you get people to like you, they’ll buy anything from you, including a car,” he rightfully boasted, celebrating his accomplishments.

Braxton was always that way. Everywhere he went, he became “most popular” or homecoming king and a household name among his peers as well as adults. There was not one place in Tampa I could go where people my age wouldn’t know him. It was this specific attribute about him that made me avoid going to whatever high school he attended. I knew I was doomed to be “Braxton’s little sister” for the rest of my teenage existence. “And I wanted a boyfriend!” in my 15-year-old mind.  No one would dare cross the line and risk his friendship with Braxton by dating his little sister.

By the time Braxton left for college, he had attended two elementary schools, two middle schools and two high schools. He ran track, played baseball, started as a punt returner in football and did a brief stint in the band. With three additional siblings, a mother who was an infamous radio personality, and a father who published a black newspaper in the Tampa Bay area, he had no choice but to take the spotlight and to own it until his own light went out.

I remember the day of the funeral and how people of all colors and ages came out to support my family. I saw old teachers, neighbors, friends and people I had just about forgotten. But nobody forgot about Braxton. The day he died was the day I was able to see the network he spent 22 years creating reveal a beautiful mosaic of effortless diversity. It was clear to everyone in the church that Braxton never saw color.

My brother, even after his death, never ceased to amaze me. I did not know about the people he bailed out of jail or let stay with him or brought to God or helped get through a hard time. His life was miraculous. And because he was a great Connector, I know his legacy will live to the end of time, because the people who love him will continue to share it.  

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