I recently attended a journalism conference where one of the breakout sessions was titled, “Intergenerational Communication in the Workplace.”
I sat grimly while a woman younger than half the clothes in my closet admonished me, as a Baby Boomer, to give up on personal interactions. I should get with the program, join my young co-workers in making things as impersonal as possible, she seemed to be saying.
She kept pointing out how Millennials, Gen X and now Gen Z do things differently.
“If they text, you text back. If they email, you email back,” she directed. “They do not like to use the phone.”
I’ve noticed.
Many people under 40 these days avoid human interaction in their day-to-day business.
They order practically everything online – food, underwear, concert tickets, cleaning products – partly from convenience but also, as many admit, because they simply don’t like to go places where they have to interact with clerks and rub elbows with other shoppers.
My own kids make good-natured fun of me because I still actually go to the bank to deposit my check.
But I LIKE to interact with people. It helps give me a sense of community, of shared experience, a feeling of “We’re all in this together.”
I can’t imagine never seeing Catrina’s lovely smile in the Burger King drive-thru or catching up on a bit of gossip with Deanna at the grocery store. It’s worth waiting in a short line at the bank to chat with my favorite teller, Elizabeth.
I think personal touch helps us build empathy. It forces us to see, to really look at, others around us, however different they might be. It can force us out of our bubble, make us take a look at what’s going on in our neighborhood, our community, our county or state.
And it serves another, more important purpose: Interacting with other humans is good for your mental health.
I wrote a story recently about a young woman who took her own life, and one of the points her grieving mother made was that her daughter seemed to feel isolated.
I’ve heard that many times from folks struggling with depression, and I think it may be a contributing factor to the general anxiousness many young people feel. They just don’t feel connected to anything or anyone.
Now, please understand: I’m not simplifying a complex issue, and I’m not scapegoating.
I just can’t help but contrast the good feeling I always got from shootin’ the breeze with red-haired manager Betty at Walmart versus the way I feel after I’ve self-checked my goods and meandered silently out of the store.
I like the fact that wait staff at half a dozen local eateries know my drink of choice. I’m proud and happy when someone in the DMV office asks, “How’s the new grandbaby?” or when the guy who helps load my topsoil at the garden center reminisces with me about his high school football-playing days with my son.
I stopped by a school book fair with my grandson on the spur of the moment; I didn’t have my wallet with me and he wanted a few things. I asked the librarian if she could hold them and I’d send a check tomorrow and he could bring them home then. But she knows me from way back, and she waved her hands in a “pshaw!” gesture and said, “Eh, he can take them now. I know you’re good for it.”
You’ll never get that kind of treatment from Amazon.
I joke, but I am truly troubled by what appears to be this growing trend toward isolation.
One of the things those who have had suicidal ideation have told me is, “Reach out and ask. Make the effort. Personal contact can make the difference.”
This seems at odds with what appears to be the prevailing mindset of so many today: “I want to be left alone.”
I think people who shun contact with others are missing out on something important. Maybe they don’t understand the way connectedness can lead to a feeling of wholeness.
I know I’m old and crotchety, but dagnabbit, I try to meet people more than halfway. I’m willing and eager to try new technology, new music, new slang. I’ve learned so much from my children and their contemporaries, and I’m trying my level best to keep an open mind about the concepts they’re teaching me.
I would respectfully ask them to afford me the same courtesy when it comes to this topic.
Go to the counter to order your meal or your coffee from a live human. Smile and say hello and ask after their day.
The smile you get in return, and the way it makes you feel, may be well worth the 37 seconds you save.
