Friday 12 August 2016

How I learned to stop worrying and love Facebook

I have, in the past, been guilty of disparaging comments about social media.  I have poured buckets of vitriol on what I saw as the enemies of Tim Berners-Lee's dream of the Internet - the voyeuristic and inflammatory nonsense, the sheer inaccuracy of so much of the content, the disproportionate amount of spare time people seem to have for dross-creation, and pointless online activities.  I can hardy bring myself to type the phrase "cat videos".  If I am honest, and I always am, those narrow views are still firmly held, with one exception.

Sit down and have a swig of that stiff drink - I'm going to praise social media, well one bit of it anyway.

I took the plunge and set up a Facebook profile after losing my last job.  It was, at the time, said to be a powerful marketing tool, and I was about to try and go into business for myself.  I failed to grasp, however that it was an excellent marketing tool for people who knew how to use it.  When I found out I would have to initiate and maintain all manner of online relationships and cultivate a client-base, I was scared rigid and immediately deleted my account.  My venture was doomed before it started.

It was years later, on a particularly cold and blustery day in May in the seaside town of Brixham, that the whole Facebook debacle came to mind once more.  We were in Brixham to dive, but the weather had scuppered us again (you get used to this as UK scuba divers) so we decided to head into town and check out the new "Pirate festival" (whatever that was!)  My husband and young son thought it was great... me, less so.  It appeared to be an opportunity for lots of people to dress up as pirates and hang around together.  There was to be a record attempt, that we could, apparently join in:  The largest number of pirates in one location.  You had to be sporting an eye patch and hook/sword to qualify, which we promptly bought from a local shop. Good fun and frostbite were had by all (I was a bit bemused by it all) and we all agreed to come back next year with better costumes.

Six years later and we have a crowded diary of historical maritime reenactment events to attend over the summer.  We have serious, period-correct handmade accoutrements and a broad knowledge of the politics, maritime history and society of the late 18th Century.  We know more than we probably should about gunpowder (black powder, in these circles) and the weighting of swords.  And we have tremendous fun pretending to fight some pesky fellows in red coats, amongst canon and musket fire.

I have also revived my Facebook account in order to 'keep in contact' with the fellow reenactors I meet.  I began using it merely to share photos of events, but it has become much more over time.  I have developed the beginnings of what could be called friendships.  I find I share a similarly eclectic sense of humour with many of them, an appreciation of history, costume or engineering with some, physical acting with others.  My interaction with them is made much easier by the prompts of facebook, and typing my responses gives me time to analyse what people might mean, and develop decent conversations.  I'm pretty sure I'm forming relationships, and I look forward to seeing how they continue.  Facebook also allows me to weed out those contacts that I do not have anything in common with, and I don't even have to risk a face to face.

I don't think it's uncommon for people on the fringes of society to find common ground, but I had underestimated the usefulness of social media in helping me and those like me, socialise.  I had considered it a waste of bandwidth, fit only for those with verbal diarrhoea or a bizarre need to publicise every aspect of their lives (however dull or offensive) to everyone else.

Of course there are those who would use this data for evil commercial purposes, but I guess most of us are just trying to keep in touch.  So thank you Mr Zuckerberg, and sorry for all the bad press!




A special sort of kind

I heard some excellent advice recently; this from someone who's judgement I have come trust in a remarkably short time.  He said : "Surround yourself with kind people."  This chimed with another piece of advice I read many years ago; a little snippet of wisdom from Ashleigh Brilliant: "Be kind to unkind people - they need it the most."

A little background....  A friend (and I use that phrase accurately for the first time in many years) was involved in a workshop/seminar about transactional analysis (TA)  which will probably be meaningless to many, but not so to psychotherapists of any ilk.  I first came across the idea years ago, after a recommendation from a psychiatrist led me to Eric Berne's book "The Games People Play" which seeks to demystify the mechanics of social interaction.  It did so, firstly, by identifying "Ego States" such as the 'Parent', the 'Child' and the 'Adult'.  The book was interesting, but I found the practise of using the theory to structure my interactions difficult and tiring.

I looked at the slides my friend was hoping to use during this workshop, and found them interesting. However, I didn't really see anything groundbreaking, mainly because I assumed, (incorrectly) that this was the same sort of thing as the ideas set out in Berne's book all those years ago.  I had recently had an exhibition of my work in central Bristol, and the Evening Post had done a story about it, with regard to Asperger's.  My friend asked to borrow a couple of pictures to take to his workshop to demonstrate the detail-oriented and systemising nature of the Asperger's brain.  I agreed and offered to help in any way I could at future workshops.

The workshop was a great success, and another was swiftly organised.  I was invited to attend in the capacity of co-presenter, which inferred a level of participation I wasn't sure I was ready to provide, but I was intrigued and went along...  I'd offered my help, after all.

That's how I ended up in a comfortable study, discussing TA with two PHD engineers, both trained in TA and one of them; a leading practitioner in using TA as a tool for psychologists working with Asperger's clients.  I could count on one hand the number of NT people who I have met in my lifetime with a detailed understanding of the nature and effects of Asperger's.  To meet someone who (despite being NT) has such an insight into the neurological differences, and the consequences of life with Asperger's, is exceptional.  To attend the workshop created by Peter Flowerdew, and see the theories explained, and see them translated for NT and Aspie alike, is profound.  It is this inability to understand one another's worlds that is the root of much of the anxiety and frustration surrounding NT/Aspie communication.

I should pause here, to acknowledge the overwhelming kindness I experienced during this weekend. I would say it was a rare privilege, but that would be incorrect, as I have never experienced the like: A room of people who were genuinely interested in my experience, who were sensitive to my sensitivities and appreciative of my honesty.  They called me brave and extraordinary, and made me believe it.  They were a special sort of kind, and I include Peter and my fellow Aspie presenter, R, in this description.  I was truly moved.

It's taken me a long time to process everything I saw and learned at the workshop, and I'm still absorbing and evaluating some of it.  However, it is clear to me now that the key to NTs and Aspie's understanding each other is the architecture of language.  In this workshop, Peter Flowerdew, centres on the different world-views of Aspies and NT and appears to cut straight to the key differences in the way we experience - everything.  He has managed to translate these theories so that they can be used by NT therapists who are desperate to better understand and help their Aspie clients.

I won't go into details, as I am no expert, but one part in particular struck a chord that has kept me thinking on it ever since.  That is the striking realisation that the usual "Ego State" Models differ markedly for Aspies and NTs.  One particular slide which made a lasting impression, was that of a diagram showing the transaction of  conversation that I recognised from any number of exchanges with ex-employers.  The Parent and Child ego states take much from learned past experiences, and the Adult state is purely based in the present.  The way it is expected to go sees the Parent (Boss) asking the Child (employee) to do a task.  The Child is expected to respond, however, in Aspies, it is the Adult that responds, confusing the now Disparaging Parent (Boss), and eliciting an assumption of a response from a Petulant Child (employee being difficult and unhelpful), and not the Adult state response it actually was (Why would you want to do that when there are more efficient ways?).  The startling connection that Peter has made is that there really is no Parent or Child ego state for Aspies.  We really only interact in the Adult state.  This of course would cause enormous confusion in social interaction, and clearly does.  It was immediately clear to me that is is the dynamic behind many of the failed interviews, premature redundancies and abortive social gatherings that have plagued my entire adult life.

This is surely worthy of much study, and as if to prove the point, workshop bookings are increasing exponentially.  I am keen to pursue this and help in whatever way I can, as it seems to be a huge leap along the way to mutual understanding between Aspie and NT, and promises more natural interaction without the expectation of the Aspie conforming to NT models.

To put it another way: "There is common ground, it's just not where we thought it was, so put down the net and the cattle prod, and let's talk..."  And it's the kind people who will oblige first...