Life

Reality Bites, But Perception Kills

Per-cep-tion |pərˈsepSHən|: a way of regarding, understanding, or interpreting something; a mental impression. : A growing perception of the enormity of the problem.

Perception can also be described as the colored lens that one views the world with based on his knowledge and understanding…How one sees or interprets the world can also be attributed to one’s cumulative experiences and expectations.  The potency of perception should not be underestimated because a person’s mental impression can and will affect how that person navigates through life in both business and personal arenas.

We are all familiar with military warfare i.e. soldiers, guns and tanks; but warfare is waged on several different fronts. Psychological warfare, and its uses however, are not as universally recognized as a platoon of soldiers, but are subtler and twice as potent. One form of psychological warfare is propaganda, which can be used to shape perception (albeit a skewed one) to satisfy an agenda. Propaganda is the subtle manipulation or swaying the opinion of a group of people using the arts: flyers, posters, or cartoons. Music and movies are also used to reinforce an agenda as well. Language, media coverage, and statistics are very powerful agents used to mold a stance or viewpoint. The tactics of propaganda and marketing can be used interchangeably. (Take a closer look at rival cell phone companies who compete with each other using catch phrases, slogans, and imagery). On a larger and more dynamic level, perception can affect a group of people based on the same premise of cumulative experiences, ideals and expectations just as it would a singular individual. For example, African Americans, how the world perceives them and more importantly, how they perceive themselves via propaganda and negative perception has had an unfortunate impact which, includes but not limited to: negative attitudes, self loathing, and a shortened lifespan. Why is there a negative perception of African Americans both domestically and globally? How do we challenge or better yet change the unsavory but popular perceptions that literally plague the African American community to death?

During colonialism or the slave trade, African people were bartered for, bought, sold and were treated like property exchange. Economic gain, and free labor were the main catalysts behind the slave trade. How do groups of people (Portuguese and British traders) justify exchanging human lives for money or goods as property? Propaganda was used to create a negative perception of Africans’ as subhuman, therefore African people were not subject to the same rights as British people or anyone else for that matter. Character defamation, generalizations, and stereotypes poisoned the minds of those whom the Portuguese and British sold slaves to, all while lining their pockets. Education and morality were placed on the back burner as the Portuguese and British started to believe their own propaganda (possibly as a defense mechanism). Once in America, Africans were played against each other: House Slaves against, Field Slaves, Light Skinned Slaves against Dark skinned Slaves, as well as Male Slaves vs. Female Slaves. Laws were made to keep slaves uneducated and dependent upon their masters for food, shelter, and guidance. After being bombarded with a combination of propaganda and cruel reality, African Americans started to internalize that hatred of themselves and each other. Their perception became reality, with every crack of a whip, or lynching. The negative perception drove home the point, which was, African American lives meant nothing and their fate writhed in the grip of their tormentor’s hands.

Whether by political cartoon, derogatory characterizations such as a black face, or a public execution, the negative perception of African Americans has gone viral long before the web existed. The British did their job well, as it is a known fact that African American lives are not worth the birth certificates that they are printed on. If you think that we have grown civil as a society and that there are no more negative characterizations or public executions, all you have to do is turn to your local evening news. Our exceptional leaders: Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X were publically executed. The police beat our brother Rodney King, in public. Our sons, Amadou Diallo, Sean Bell, Oscar Grant III, Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, and Tamir Rice were on the business end of years of negative perception and propaganda. Although the collective triggers were pulled by law enforcement (or a member of a neighborhood watch) the hand behind these senseless murders was negative perception. The perceptions that, darker skinned lives are ripe for the taking beginning at age 12 (Tamir Rice). The perception that no punishment will come to those who take the lives of darker skinned individuals because they are not worth the paper that the acquittals are written on. The perception that African American’s won’t put aside their differences and band together to change and stop fueling propaganda and negative perception. Unfortunately, this notion of negative perception translates to big business in the penal system just as it did during the slave trade.

An eye-opening example of statistics that were used to further an agenda of negative perception was used against an entire community in the Bronx in August of 2014. In a neighborhood in the Hunts Point section of the Bronx, the crime statistics of felony assaults of Rikers Island were lumped together with the statics of neighborhood precinct 41. The skewed accounting provided plenty of grief for Bronx police as well as residents, who complained that the numbers fed a misperception about the neighborhood’s safety and unfairly inflated their insurance rates. Insurance companies analyze long-term crime trends when calculating premiums. A simple manipulation of data (propaganda) created a negative perception of the neighborhood, which most likely caused strained relationships with the community and law enforcement. Meanwhile, the insurance companies profited from this misinterpretation. (Sound familiar)? If a simple rearrangement of numbers can affect an entire community, what effect could a well-orchestrated properly planned and implemented propaganda campaign do? The answer resides in the current state of African Americans, and anyone who is perceived as such…The end result is loss of respect/self respect, dignity, and most importantly loss of life without recourse.

As our unarmed fathers, brothers and sons are routinely being killed with more frequency, do we take up arms and fight back using traditional warfare, or do we start our own propaganda campaign? In order to change a movement, the tune in which the movement moves must be changed. However that happens is up to us, all of us. One thing is clear, negative perception fueled by propaganda does kill. The question is how do we shift the agenda and change the skewed perception of African Americans from a negative one, to one that values the historic contributions that have made not only this country, but also this world a better place to live in.

If You Smell Something, Say Something

In New York City, there have been campaign ads of a particular slogan placed all around the city. It’s on billboards on mass transit buses, trains and subway stations throughout the five boroughs. The ads display an anonymous bag left unattended on the street, platform or anywhere where it could be dangerous to the public. The implication of the message is that there could potentially be a (shhhh) b-o-m-b in the bag. New Yorker’s be patient with me, for everyone else, the message reads: “If you see something, say something.” The message is clear, straight to the point and is also rather catchy. If something looks suspicious, alert the authorities; don’t just ignore it or remain silent.

Recently I’ve experienced a phenomenon for which there is no protocol. There are no commercials, ads or catchy slogans for what I’ve encountered, although I wish there were. What I have experienced is related to a bomb, but closer to chemical warfare of the offensive nature. I also don’t think it’s exclusive to New York City either…

I work in corporate America at a rather large company that takes up many floors in a huge office building, with many offices and cubicles. Obviously working at a company of that magnitude (where we are dressed in business casual garb), there is a definite sense of protocol and procedure. As with any large company with many moving parts, there is always plenty of etiquette, and procedural red tape that one has to navigate through to do his/her job effectively. In our office, we are equipped with a fanny pack for emergencies and have a quarterly fire drill walk-through with New York City’s Bravest. The fanny pack is a mini survivors kit containing a flashlight, safety goggles, a whistle, and a first aid kit. We are well prepared for any type of immediate disaster…well almost any disaster.

What's that smell

Photo: star5112

While plugging away at my desk with about an hour and a half before quitting time, I was jolted out of the momentum of my work flow by something. My nose was sucker punched with the stench of something that smelled like, like, the rear end of a farm animal. Naturally my head immediately went on a swivel turning left and right. My eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flared, and my nose and lips retracted in horror. I was stunned, surprised, disgusted and irritated. As I looked around to find the source of the foul odor, I noticed that the other three female coworkers in my quad were typing away furiously at their computers as if nothing happened. That just annoyed me even more…”What the hell is that smell? Does anybody smell that,” I exclaimed. Now before I paint myself as the resident crazy person for speaking up, I will ask the important question: What is the correct protocol for that situation? This is a corporate office where we share open space with each other. Secondly, just the day before at approximately the same time, flatulence had previously reared its smelly head. The first time, I let it go (not let it rip) and grumbled to myself as I proceeded to take a long scenic stroll around the office. Accidents happen, and let’s face it, it could happen to the best of us. I vowed to myself to speak up if that ever happened again, and “blow” and behold it did…

I’ll ask the question again; What is the protocol for that situation? For two days in a row someone was comfortable enough to let everyone within the blast radius know what they shouldn’t have eaten for lunch. It was only Wednesday so I had two more days to go in the work week, and I didn’t know if I could take the smell for two more days. Suddenly I had an e-whiffany (I digress), and these different scenarios played out in my head…Why do we stay silent when we are in a crowded elevator when someone tries to slip one by us? What if someone exclaimed, “What the hell is that smell? Does anybody smell that?” Does that person look and sound like a crazy person? Or what if someone were on a crowded train and caught by surprise by a mal odor which is deeply offensive, but the person that the odor is coming from was gorgeous? What do we say then? Lastly, what if someone were lucky enough to have face time with someone above their station say like the President of the United States. Would, that elongated syllable version of “Missss-ter. Pres-i-dent” belted by Marylin Monroe, be replaced by  a nasally singular “ugh, um Mr. President” (gasp, excuse me)?

Back in my reality of my cubicle, half jokingly I can’t help thinking of putting in a request to H.R. about adding gas masks to our fanny packs. It’s a tough economy out there, so if this is going to be my reality (which currently stinks), I’ve got to take some precautionary measures. If my production goes down and my boss wants to know why, should I really be truthful about my long leisurely strolls about the office? I definitely can’t go to HR to complain at least not with a straight face, so what are my options? I have an idea of who it is, but seriously, how could I prove it? I don’t think a carbon monoxide detector could detect the odor, but I wish I could say the same for my nose. Does speaking up in the office make me the guy labeled “most likely to go postal”? Unfortunately, I don’t have any real solutions, and I’m sure there are people out there with worse problems, but I have to go back to work tomorrow.  I am open for suggestions, so I’ll ask you, what is the correct protocol for that?

 

So, Last Night I Saw A Red Elephant…

I was afforded an opportunity to go to a networking event for entrepreneurs in place of someone whose opinion I value. The idea of attending such an event started a conversation in my head. “A networking event for entrepreneurs,” I thought to myself. “Who wouldn’t want to be their own boss?” I was far from being an entrepreneur since I was still punching a clock/”working for the man.” (In this case working for the woman, since all my supervisors are women.) “Expand my mental and financial horizons,” I thought. Maybe I could use this opportunity to learn from people who are already entrepreneurs. “I’ll keep my mouth shut and ears open so that I can learn a thing or two”…This isn’t a lecture; it’s a networking event so keeping my mouth shut would defeat the purpose of networking! Well, if I wanted to change my situation, I’d have to broaden my horizons so I registered.

Healthy Quinoa

Photo: Jennifer

I double-checked my email and got a confirmation that said “Join us for a Red Elephant networking event!” That was interesting…I previously declared to the universe that I was ready for success, and in response I got a “Red Elephant?” The universe contains boundless energy and infinite wisdom, so who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth (even if that gift horse was in fact a Red Elephant)? I couldn’t help wondering if that was the universe’s way of using symbolism…Red meaning stop, and Elephant, meaning that it was a “fat chance” that I was ready for success. The universe’s sense of humor didn’t stop there. The title of the networking group was titled “Screw Networking as Usual.” Wow, this was getting more intriguing by the second. Screw it indeed! I’d already made my mind up that I was going to this event, so I turned the mental chatter of doubt off, and put my big boy pants on.

I was directed to the check-in table, and given a magnetic name-tag which I fumbled around with for a bit. I was also informed that I should pick one of two coaches based on what skill set for success I wanted to take. My invitation to the event was provided by Richard Oceguera, so would I be wrong to pick the other coach? Both coaches seemed to have something that I needed to put into practice, so I couldn’t choose one or the other. Screw it, I signed up for both coaches and decided to let the chips fall where they may. After I got a chance to look around, the setting was rather warm for a networking event. There were hardwood floors, exposed brick walls, and a food area that had very small intimate lamps flickering about. I interacted with a few people, and to my surprise, everyone was warm, friendly, and better still, everyone with whom I encountered, pronounced my name to perfection. After living a lifetime of having my unique name butchered like a U.S.D.A. Prime Roasting chart, I was thoroughly surprised and impressed. Over at the food table, there were perfectly portioned servings of grilled chicken, quinoa, and cranberries and other healthy dishes being served. I Initially expected chips, or the old “cheese and crackers bit.” I was pleasantly surprised by the grilled chicken and quinoa, which are both staples in my regular diet. Shortly after scarfing down my food, I was tapped on my shoulder by an old co-worker turned life coach that I hadn’t seen in years. It just seemed as if everything at this “Screw Networking as Usual” event was as advertised. There was nothing typical about the event thus far, and it almost seemed like I was supposed to be there.

One of the event’s organizers, Iman made an announcement that everyone would have to stand up, introduce themselves, and pitch their goods and services in 3 minutes or less. This is where the rubber meets the road, or better yet where the sh_t hits the fan. Not only did I not have any goods and services to pitch, but I am deathly afraid of public speaking! I’d rather kick a hibernating bear in the pants rather than speak in front of a room full of strangers! There were 55 people at this event, not counting the coaches and organizers. I sat there waiting my turn with sweaty palms and sheepish grin in tow. My heart beat rattled my magnetic name-tag, and my thoughts were scattered all over the place. When it was my turn, I stuttered and yammered about being a writer and felt that everyone imagined me naked, when it was supposed to be the other way around. Once I sat back down and was able to feel my limbs again, Mariposa got up to speak. Her services were about empowering entrepreneurs through speech. Mariposa’s pitch, was spoken word. Man, were her words spoken! This was definitely not your grandfather’s idea of a networking event, that’s for sure. Some time after Mariposa, came Amy. Amy grabbed the audience by the throat and didn’t let it go until she was done. Amy got her pitch and point across with an exclamation point in under 2 minutes flat. Amy might as well have dropped the microphone and diddy bopped off the stage, wow!

With the introductions done, we were going to meet with the coaches that we signed up for. As opposed to meeting with one coach, Iman informed the group that everyone would get a chance to meet with each coach instead. Just then, I remembered that I initially signed up for both coaches from the very beginning. It was as if the universe said “Screw what you were thinking, this is where you are supposed to be at this moment.” Mentally, I nodded in affirmation. When it was all said and done, I got to meet some great contacts and got some great resources as well. Surprisingly, even after my speaking debacle, some people actually told me that I left an impression on them. One of the more accomplished bloggers at the event left me with this piece of advice: “Just Write,” she said, “just write.” That was just the right amount of advice that I needed to chronicle my first Red Elephant sighting.