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13 de setembro de 2014

How You Can Network Genuinely With Just One Phrase


One thing I'm going to start doing on this new LinkedIn blog is occasionally share articles about professional and everyday work life: how we deal with co-workers, teachable moments on the job, practical job advice and professional development they can't teach you in schools, colleges, conferences or seminars. The kind of stuff you learn through trial and error: life experience as it relates to the workplace.
This Medium essay from Paul Ford-- one that my Media Twitter circle fell absolutely in love with and shared like crazy last month-- is the kinda thing I'm talking about here. It's called"How to Be Polite" and it's not nearly as lecturing or preachy as its title or its header image, shown above, might make it seem.
In the essay, Ford-- a media strategist and former contributor for NPR's All Things Considered, Harper's and New York magazine-- puts forth a modest proposal.
When you are at a party and are thrust into conversation with someone, see how long you can hold off before talking about what they do for a living. And when that painful lull arrives, be the master of it. I have come to revel in that agonizing first pause, because I know that I can push a conversation through. Just ask the other person what they do, and right after they tell you, say: 'Wow. That sounds hard.'
Why should you do this? "Because," Ford writes, "nearly everyone in the world believes their job to be difficult."
Absolutely knocked me out. Not because this had never occurred to me before. But because the moment I read it, I understood how something like this could-- and probably would-- pan out wonderfully in a casual conversation with strangers, even co-workers and editors. I'd dismissed sentiments like 'Wow. That sounds hard,' in the past because I thought it'd be kinda corny or kiss-up to say, at best. At worst, it could be taken as sarcastic and condescending.
So I tried it out: in the workplace, on planes, trains and in automobiles; on vacation, in restaurants, at parties and concerts, concentrating on saying, "That sounds hard" as matter-of-factly and coolly as I can, with the slightest touch of passing empathy. Even if I don't entirely mean it at the time. And I can confirm it absolutely works. It's spooky how well it works. Co-workers I see rarely and never really speak to at length when I do, warmed immediately, their gaze softening. I felt perfect strangers, even, warming to me. An editor-- one whose work I adore, who has been so helpful to me over e-mail and desperately want to pitch just the right thing to-- tweeted in surprise this month that itworked for her, too.
The more I said, "Wow. That sounds hard," the more it made me think of a passage of dialogue from David Foster Wallace's sad and powerful novel The Pale King, published after his untimely death.
The next suitable person you’re in light conversation with, you stop suddenly in the middle of the conversation and look at the person closely and say, 'What’s wrong?' You say it in a concerned way. He [or she]’ll say, 'What do you mean?' You say, 'Something’s wrong. I can tell. What is it?' And he [or she]’ll look stunned and say, 'How did you know?' He [or she] doesn't realize something’s always wrong, with everybody. Often more than one thing. He doesn't know everybody’s always going around all the time with something wrong and believing they're exerting great willpower and control to keep other people, for whom they think nothing’s ever wrong, from seeing it.
I've never tried "What's wrong?" on a co-worker or stranger because it seems a little too personal and, frankly, the possible answers to that question could be terrifying. I've kept that inquiry to my closest friends and family. But my experience with "Wow. That sounds hard," is starting to convince me that "What's wrong?" would be totally okay and not-scary to ask.
But one question at a time. I recommend a sincere "Wow. That sounds hard," highly in the workplace, at name-tagged networking functions or with anyone you get into a pickup conversation. It's the ultimate ice breaker. If you feel the conversation grinding away and you haven't asked them what they do for a living, ask them. Listen-- make sure you listen-- and then, no matter what they say, respond with that. You'll be stunned where it can lead you and the people you're talking to.
Paul de Revere is a freelance journalist who's work has appeared in Rolling StoneTimeand NPR, among other outlets. He has reported from four countries overseas, published in Russian with the Вечерняя Москва (Evening Moscownewspaper. He splits his time between his native Florida and New York City. He always welcomes solicitations for writing opportunities or simply to chat. Feel free to send a message here on LinkedIn or, better yet, get in touch with him on Twitter.