Community Is about Welcoming People In
Most of the kids I grew up with were 2nd generation American, which meant our grandparents spoke a language other than English. Adult immigrants had a hard time learning English. My grandmother, who was born in 1888, never did.
I can only imagine what it was like, knowing that her grandkids couldn’t understand what she was saying . . . Still my grandmother knew how to connect and by the time I was six I was talking with her through gestures, faces, and a tiny Italian vocabulary she gave me. We could spend hours enjoying each other’s company.
I didn’t understood the magic of what she did until I visited her village in Italy. I realized the humanity of my grandmother’s gifts when I felt strangers offer the same sort of welcoming, reaching out. It was a way of life not just a “family thing.”
You could feel from the smiles in their eyes. You could hear it when they said “buonasera” as they walked by. You could see in the flower pots placed outside the windows of every house. I felt welcomed. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know who I was.
In the last 24 hours, I’ve spoken to three people about blogging and social media. All three, in their own way, said they feel as if everyone is speaking another language. They all felt that they didn’t know how to find their way to connect. That’s why I’ve been thinking about what my grandmother did . . .
What My Italian Grandmother Knew about Community Building
My grandmother was born in 1888. Her name was Liza. She knew a lot about people and life. When she came here, she owned a small saloon in a small town in Illinois. Though she had no English — she only knew Italian — every person who came there felt welcomed and most came back.
Her tavern was a living example of a participatory culture. Social relationships and community thrived. I saw these things with my own child’s eyes.
- Welcome! Every time someone walked in the door, her face lit up in a smile. Whether they’d been there before or just arrived, she stop to welcome them as if they’d come home from a long journey.
- See! She had an uncanny way of looking at each person fully and individually in the eyes. It didn’t matter if their words weren’t the same. The attention she gave said how she valued every one of them.
- Smile! She was a woman of joy! Joy is contagious and attractive. My grandmother was a tall, thin 80 year-old woman when I knew her, but until her last day she could make a room glow.
- Listen! Because she didn’t have the words, but often knew what people were saying, my grandmother listened better than anyone I know. That made a person feel like a great communicator and feel like a fine lady had heard.
- Laugh! When she didn’t understand what someone was saying, she would laugh at herself as if words were playing games. Then she’d look for another way to reach out for meaning.
- Ospitalità! Prego! Any person who spent an hour in her saloon couldn’t leave without knowing that those two words meant Hospitality! and Yes, of course! The entire venue was about the people who came. She loved every one of them.
My grandmother wasn’t afraid to build a bridge on the language she didn’t know because she trusted herself to connect in other ways. We can build a bridge to the folks who don’t know social media by taking a clue and some cues from things she did.
Where are you seeing great examples of hospitality and bridge building in our Internet culture? What can we do to help them grow?
–ME “Liz” Strauss
Work with Liz!!
Great piece. My grandmother was “my mother.” I learned from her humility. She often told me that I can really see who I am through the eyes of “more than one friend.” What she meant was that each friend sees a different side of you. With my quirky friends I am quirky. With my serious friends, I am serious. And with my independent friends I take risk and look for adventure.
But if you met each of my friends, they would describe a “different thatwomancdv.”
I don’t look at the man/woman in the mirror as my grandmother told me — look at the man/woman you are in the eyes of your friends. A hint of who you are — is in their eyes.
Liz, this post so much reminds me of my grandmother Antanina. I would sit for hours on her porch listening to stories of her being shot at by German Uboats as she sailed to America during WWI.
I brought my friends to hear her great stories and learned that she and I were conversing in a blend of Italian and English that they couldn’t understand. What a learning moment.
Ciao
The skills you share here are skills that do not come easily to me, things I have had to work at and learn from folks like yourself. Being welcoming without being intrusive is a fine line I try to walk…
Liz, your grandmother sounds like a wonderful person, who understood how to communicate beyond words. Thanks for the reminder of the seemingly small but important things we can do to make people feel welcome.
Liz, your grandmother sounds like a beautiful woman who clearly passed the hospitality gene on to you. My mother was like that, so welcoming and loving. I always thought I had not inherited that gene and could only admire it in others. I am beginning to understand that there may be hope for me after all. I never thought of applying those childhood lessons to social media but you have lit the bulb! Even though I am steeped in social media, I sometimes feel like an interloper, as if there is a secret club for the cool kids and I’m not invited to join. We can all do a better job of being like your grandmother.
What a wonderful peak inside your grandmother’s worldview of hospitality and love. My husband often attains this level of openness, caring, sharing, and laughter, but even after 15 years of marriage and admiring him for it, I still, like Richard wrote, find it hard to do. Aren’t some personalities wired to it more than others?
Ciao Liz,
Thanks for the reminder about gifts given by ancestors. Your grandmother gifted you with a love for community; my father gifted me with a love of language. He grew up speaking Italian, went to school with kids who did not, and they made fun of him. He determnined to master English. He played scrabble, did crosswords, and etc.
When my sister and I were small, he would come home from work and go right to a dictionary. At dinner he would use a new word. My sister and I had to guess the “word of the day” and what it meant. The end result of all this? I am a writer and sis a professor of English.
Thanks Dad! And thanks to your grandmother for helping to shape what you do!
Hi that woman . . .!
What a lovely way you tell your grandmother’s wisdom. It’s like a musical underscoring to your personality. Our friends bring out the parts in us they look for, that’s why choosing our friends is as much a choosing for ourselves as it is a choosing for them. 🙂
I would have liked your grandmother. 🙂
Hi Jim!
When we want to meet with others we find a way to communicate, don’t we? It comes so naturally when we’re kids. It’s a little harder now, I think, but heck, if we only talk with folks who know the same language . . . our vocabulary is going to shrink with the more people we know.
What a lovely grandmother. Bet those were some stories. 🙂
Oh Richard,
You do those things in your own way, quietly. I know, because you often smile on me. Reaching out doesn’t have to be noisy. It’s the care for others that makes it work. 🙂
Hi Joanna,
I know you understand the important spaces between the words. Your writing shows it. It’s moved me, delighted me, and helped me, always making me feel welcome and at home. Thank you for doing that for all of us. 🙂
Hi Karen,
When we’re not the ones throwing the party, we all feel a little bit like we don’t belong. Figuring that out makes it easier to lift a chin and smile at the folks beside us wondering whether they should be there. We can do something to make them feel welcome. A sense of welcome is something we can always offer . . . we always have a space that can get bigger for a friend.
Hi Lori,
I think what you’re seeing is sort of a view thats more forest than trees. You make folks feel comfortable one by one. Actually so do I. It just looks like I’m talking to lots of people at the same time. 🙂
Dick!
How wonderful to see you. I’ve been thinking about you this week! I especially was thinking of you when I wrote this post “come together” was on my mind.
Thank you for bringing that story. Yeah, it beautiful how our families give us what we need to move forward with grace. 🙂
Hi Liz,
What a great read and a terrific reminder; I feel like the older generation often gets overlooked and their gestures and human interactions are taken for granted or seem passe’. Modern times mean more distractions, interruptions, etc., and my own very Greek grandmother sounds remarkably like your Italian one – embracing the people around her and sharing. Isn’t that what it’s all about?!
Great, great post Liz! A Must read for anyone looking to participate in social media!
Hi Liz – you mentioned your grandmother had a saloon but I didn’t know she was also Italian. Quite a few Italian people live round here and they are always friendly and welcoming. And they always welcome children everywhere too – unlike a lot of nationalities.
Was the saloon like the type you see in the films, with the swinging doors? I’m trying to imagine it because we don’t have saloons in England.
On my blog – I try to make folk feel friendly and welcome – answer their questions and paraphrase what they’ve said to make sure they know I’ve understood what they said.
But I must admit – there’s some folk I don’t welcome on there at all. I understand when people are having a bad day, but there’s a couple of people who will attack everything I say, whenever they visit – which isn’t often – luckily.
And I know it’s not very welcoming – but I do try to get rid of those types. I guess it’s a bit like having to throw a drunk troublemaker out of a saloon, because their behaviour doesn’t just affect the saloon owner, it affects all the customers too.
Liz – the skills you describe are more of a challenge on the web – it’s harder to see the warmth in our eyes and our body language. I think my writing best accomplishes this when I’m focused on writing about topics that serve my intended audience. If I’m putting out great content that is helpful to them and if I communicate in a friendly and helpful way, I think they feel welcomed.
Conversely, there are many blogs I have briefly visited where I felt like I was being bombarded (often in a patronizing way) to subscribe and leave comments. I knew I was there to meet their needs and nothing else.
I think this blog post (freshly tweeted!) is related to what you are saying:
http://ronroat.wordpress.com/2008/10/13/fear-of-authenticity-lurks-among-us/
As a serious introvert, making the effort to connect with people is difficult. They just drain me. I’ve found that both online and off. I enjoy their company, I just can’t have too much of it. I try to remember always to connect via shared experience, whether it’s a tweet or a blog entry/comment or a face to face anecdote. I guess it’s my way of cutting to the chase via the truly important, not the small talk which I’ve never been able to master anyway.
Course, my fear then is of appearing too self-centered, too “making it all about me.” Which then leads me not to want to connect! There is indeed a degree of risk in hospitality: taking the chance that the other person won’t blow you off, that you will in fact be able to connect.
I think some people are more comfortable with taking that chance than others, or don’t even think about it… but for the rest of us, just something we have to learn to live with, and hope we change a few lives for the better along the way!
Hi Deb!
You said it so well, people around us and sharing. Yeah that’s what it’s about. We share the workload, the fun, the pain, the building and the moving in. We get a lot done together. 😉
Hi Maria!
Thanks. Those are some words coming from you. I appreciate them. 🙂
Hi Cath,
To my grandma and my dad, it was always a saloon or a tavern . . . never a bar. I guess that had something to do with the sense of the community there. It was like a true village pub where people didn’t necessarily stay at the same table all night because they knew all of the folks in the place — even if it was their first time there.
Regarding the jerks, yeah some folks are jerks, my dad had them too. I think it’s our job to keep the place a place where the folks who come don’t have to be worried about being interrupted by jerks. People who can’t be polite and respectful, people who exclude or tear things down, don’t automatically have right to be here and it’s my job to help them find the way to somewhere they’ll like better than this for the sake of the folks who like this place just the way that it is.
Hi Mary!
The longer I’m on the Internet, the more ways I find to smile at people with what I say and to let them know that I see them individually. The heart of the matter is carring who’s at the other end of our communication, as you point out in your comment. I have a feeling you do it well already. 🙂
Hi Christa,
It;s always easier for me, when I remember to focus everything on other people. (I’m an introvert too and link you, I’ve never mastered that small talk thing.) When my energy starts slowing I need to refuel on my own too, but when I can’t I find that asking questions and getting interested in answers sure goes a long way to making folks feel welcome . . . and I don’t have to feel like I’m talking about me then.
I know what you mean by that. Certain questions work well. One of my favorites is “What do you do when you’re not doing this?”
Liz,
I loved this little memoir of your grandmother. My grandmothers were both reserved New England immigrant children, much colder than your warm grandmother, yet they did have a way of welcoming anyone and everyone that is different from most of what we see today. Nothing ever threw them, they just rolled with life. I try to take that from each of them.
Today on the Internet? Funny, but more than in real life, I sometimes think, there are many blogs where the comment section is a generous community (like yours), and that welcoming spirit is making a 2.0 comeback. I’ve often thought that blogs have a lot to teach us about real life, now that they are coming into their own!
Regards,
Kelly
Hi Kelly,
I know strong woman who hold dear their families in just the way that you describe. They are welcoming and in their own they offer us shelter just by being who they are.
I agree that web 2.0 is offering new ways of relating. I’m glad we’re finding them and finding each other. We need to have this sense of OspitalitÃÂ ! in our lives.