(I know my blogging pace has been erratic, but that doesn't mean that my brain is empty - on the contrary, there's lots going on, being processed and hopefully eventually churned into a product. But I will try to post here more often. Thanks for staying tuned. :))
The webinar (now available online with an intro from Seth Cohen and embedded below) was sponsored by a conference I attended after the GA in November, called NetWORKS – convened by the Charles & Lynn Schusterman Family Foundation to bring together people who represent major networks, Jewish innovation projects and who are able to mobilize social capital. (More of my notes about this webinar - including a note about an interesting crowdsourcing project involving the Knesset - are available after the jump, which is after the video. If the video embed does not appear below, click this link.)
I've been on an exhausting conference circuit these last four weeks, but one conference I wish I'd had the time and money for was the indie sensation South By Southwest (SXSW). This year, SXSW featured a panel on "Jewish Synergy," convened and presided over by Chaviva Galatz and Susanne Goldstone Rosenhouse (of @JewishTweets fame).
Below is an embed of the entire session, which runs over an hour. But to help you out, I've included my own breakdown of some choice moments - including shoutouts to many innovative initiatives you may know - below. (All times are approximate, so if I'm off by a few seconds, don't sue me.)
25:00 - Someone who submitted his idea to LA's Next Big Jewish Idea search expresses frustration that he wasn't able to get community support for his idea
27:00 - Susanne delivers shoutout to and explanation of the ROI Community as a place for people from all over the world with "amazing big ideas"
32:40 - You don't have to be a millionaire to support these projects. "You can give $10," Susanne says.
34:30 - A cute baby gurgles off-camera. We later discover it is @mottel's baby, Berel.
38:30 - Over Twitter, @ffidler has asked what we can learn specifically from this Jewish panel that we can't learn from a non-Jewish panel?
47:36 - Chaviva calls her blog "a public service announcement for Orthodox Judaism and Judaism in general," and talks about the #shabbatshalom hashtag.
51:10 - A discussion of how the Jewish community responded to the Japan disaster by setting up funds; "Why don't Jewish organizations tell everyone when we do things for the non-Jewish community?"
52:25 - Susanne says that the fastest growing population on Facebook is women in their 40s, noting "our moms are on there." (Ouch.)
55:00 - Chaviva suggests that we have to pace ourselves when it comes to media, to taper our media consumption.
1:00:00 - Baby Berel makes an appearance on-camera.
1:01:14 - The session officially closes and schmoozing ensues.
Whoever you are and whenever you're there, if you chose to be in Vegas, you’re probably there because you crave, at least a little, to suspend logic, reason and thought, or because you yearn to reintroduce your serious self to its more spontaneous side. But for 1200 Jews imported for something called TribeFest, the pull to the desert was something more. These Jews, ages 25-45, took the confusing cacophony of Sin City, and added to their agenda of cocktails, craps and clubbing an exploration of Jewish identity.
For me, TribeFest came not quite at the end of two months of conference-going. Most of these were Jewish conferences, each with an intense, exploratory vibe. From the BBYO International Convention to LimmudLA and Jewlicious, those conferences were marked by serious investigations of Jewish life, leadership, culture and identity in sessions large and small, but all of them managed to feel intimate and interactive. TribeFest was a slightly different animal, largely - I believe - because of the size, but also because of the location.
With the location (and imperative to socialize) providing a formidable distraction to the programmed content, it’s a wonder that anyone went to any sessions at all, especially my Tuesday “morning after the last night of Vegas camp” session on careers in the Jewish communal world. But they came, not just to that impossibly scheduled session, but to all of them. In fact, they came in droves – there was a huge line to hear my longtime friend Sharon Pomerantz and author Joshua Braff speak about their respective novels, and I was almost closed out of the “Work the System” session, which would have been its own story had I not been rescued by someone from JFNA who understood that it was important for me to be in that room. At the standing-room only session, passionate attendees tuned in for specific notes of how to encourage collaboration between Federations and innovative initiatives, and in fact, in a challenge of the word “innovation” itself. (Anyone have audio or video footage from that session? Please share…)
At (and after) several sessions, I overheard people yearning for a more interactive framework - breakout sessions of 60 people didn't provide people with the intimacy they wanted, but perhaps had no right to expect from Vegas (or from a conference of this size). I have the impression that many sessions could have gone well into overtime by answering all of the hands that flew up in a room. Of course, it would have been great if we could have managed to filter out "non-questions" - when a speaker asks "any questions?" and people raise their hands and speak without asking any kind of interrogative statement used to test knowledge (but that's not important right now).
Some may have wandered in and out during plenaries (word on the ground is that non-sports fans may have found “Lunch with a Legend” – one of the least diverse sessions at TribeFest - skippable), or traded session attendance to take in a show (or a nap) before the evening festivities, but participants are to be commended for an overall impressive attendance record. And as uninspiring as some sessions and speakers were, others resonated with standing ovations. The incomparable and undisputed TribeFest champion was Alina Gerlovin Spaulding, who spoke passionately and personally about how the Jewish community transformed her life and that of her family when they emigrated from Ukraine - this moment was a watershed, concretizing for many the importance of structures like the Federation in helping families in need. (For a short play-by-play of the conference, see Jewcy.)
I would be surprised if any PhD theses on Jewish identity were born over those few days in Vegas, but there was a palpable feeling of Jewish excitement at specific moments. In the opening plenary, the Hebrew Mamita’s delivery of her eponymous spoken word piece - an exploration of her own Jewish identity and pride - caused a vibrant cheer to erupt at its conclusion. Many identified with the presentation by actress Mayim Bialik, who spoke candidly about her Judaism. (A partial transcript is here.) VideoJew Jay Firestone called it Birthright meets Burning Man in his video synopsis. (My video synopsis is being held for editing by my editor, me.)
In the less-than-a-week time period since the 2.5 day conference ended, there’s been some nostalgic yearning for the energy and people left behind. Twitter, in particular, has hosted a lovefest of energy and private jokes, over the #tribefest hashtag and beyond; Facebook, too, has swelled with wall postings and reminiscences, as new friends communicated across the miles. Just now, people are beginning to upload photographic proof of the good time had by all, and edit videos in a way that conveys said good time, hopefully in a way in which no Jewish professionals lose their jobs. Not that anything untoward would ever happen to a bunch of Jews in as wholesome a place as Vegas...we're just overly cautious that way.
I know the #tribefest hashtag won't last forever - but I'll watch it as long as it's there; like credits rolling at the end of a movie, I'm with them until the final frame fades into the distance, fades to black, and then it's over.
[Here's my first video report for the ROI Community filmed shortly after I arrived. Plus, in case you missed it, here's when I became a one-name sensation, much like Cher and Madonna, of course, but in a Jewish Twitter context. Other videos and photos to come, no doubt.]
I'm sure that the food at TribeFest will be perfectly fine. But that won't stop us from complaining about it. For instance, when the Jews left Egypt - a place where they were enslaved - some of them wanted to go back because the food in Egypt was better. Also, let us not forget the great Hadassah Chopped Liver Incident of 1998. Those of you who were there remember what I'm talking about.
But all of this is preamble for the fact that as I type this, Jews ages 25-45 are converging on (if not already weekending in) Las Vegas, schmoozing, networking, dancing and getting their Jewve back. (That's a new word, people. Jew+groove. Combonyms are fun.)
Tomorrow the content begins, with sessions on various subjects, big musical performances, and the undisputed headlining component of the program, my session on "Passion to Paycheck," undoubtedly will be mobbed by folks wanting to crack the complicated, challenging world of Jewish communal service. So if you're going out in Vegas Monday night (the last night of the conference), prepare to hear this a lot: "OK, I'll go out, but I have to get up early Tuesday for 'Passion to Paycheck' at 9:45am."
I'll be there, representing all the organizations I usually represent at such conferences, and hoping to have some time to socialize with some friends old and new visiting from locations like Denver, San Francisco, New York, DC, Boston and Ann Arbor, MI.
I'm not sure how much time I'll have for blogging, but in the interim, you can get your fix from Twitter: follow the #tribefest tag, or check out my Tweets at @EstherK. If you're interested in how my first time in Vegas went, check out this vintage video from the Israelity Tour in 2008.
And remember the adage: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, as long as you don't bring 1200 members of the tribe with you.
Stuck at JFK (or any major airport) overnight thanks to a Virgin Atlantic or other airline flight cancellation? Put off by a hard, dirty floor that's probably crawling with human germs and rodent feces? Well, get down off your high horse and embrace the inevitable - the human body can only take so much walking around an airport before you need to catch forty winks. Plus, if you ever get to that conference in the UK you're supposed to present at, you'll want to make sure you don't sleep through your own presentations! So here's how to get comfortable when there’s no comfort able to be found!
Step One: Scan & Select Your Space
As soon as it becomes clear that you'll need a place to sleep, the prime sleeping spaces will go quickly, so scan the terminal like you're the Terminator, assessing the potential spots for their potential comfort based on your internal programming: Are you seeking solitude? Heat? The company of others? Find a piece of floor that reflects your preferred sleeping sensibilities: if you stake out your own space, people may give you a wide berth, resulting in your own island of space in a crowded terminal. Or, if solitude is threatening to you (single females, you may wish to consider this) or is in a dark location away from the public eye, you may wish to seek out a trustworthy-looking group of similar-age individuals - this selection may be a bit rowdier or more brightly lit, but may appeal to your sense of safety and community.
Want to recharge as you recharge? Make sure to locate the "sleeping spaces" next to electrical outlets: if you have a power strip with you for some reason, now's the time to use it and become very popular.
Step Two: Sterilize Your Space
Make sure your chosen space is clear of obvious garbage that will muck up your sleeping experience - steer clear of sticky patches of spilled Coca-Cola or snowy wet boot tracks, for example. If you have 3 oz of Purell in your Ziploc bag of allowed liquids, now's the time to use it to sterilize the space. (Or save it, to clean yourself once you rise up from your nap.)
Step Three: Build Your Bed
Then spread out a blanket and – what’s that? You don’t have a blanket? Wrestle one away from one of the airline staff members (they claim they don’t have them, but they DO!). If your airline doesn't have blankets, you may go to another airline with a cancelled flight. They don't know who's on which cancelled flight, so the important thing is to get a blanket from someone before everyone runs out. You can then use it as a mattress (recommended for comfort and hygiene reasons) or as a first layer over your shivering body in contact with the near frozen floor. and build a nest out of that and whatever you have on you: your coat, scarf, a hat pulled down over your face to block the light, an extra pair of pants stuffed into a laptop sleeve and used as a pillow: be inventive. It’s like Project Runway, only - let's face it - you are probably never going to get to the runway.
Step Four: Tweet Your Position
Obviously.
Step Five: Secure Your Stuff - To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Once you've built your bed, now's your chance to lie in it. But before you close your eyes to enjoy the wrenching back pain of sleeping on a rock-hard airport floor, make sure your valuables are secured to your person: this may entail things like using your computer bag as a pillow, threading a bag handle around your arms or legs so you'll feel it if someone tries to nick it, or trusting a virtual stranger who says he or she will watch your bags whilst you sleep. There may be a price for generosity like this - like your photo ending up on Twitter - but it's a small price to pay to greet the morning (or the later part of the morning) having had 20 minutes of sleep, isn't it? When you wake up, it will be time to battle with the rest of the hungry airport zombies for food at airport eateries with dwindling supplies, so you'll want to have had that 20 minutes to fuel your attack strategy.
We at My Urban Kvetch hope that you've enjoyed this practical travel guide to sleeping at international airports. Stay tuned for other helpful guides about overnight airport bathroom survival and use of nearly useless food vouchers at eateries that don't accept them or have 200-person lines and minimal supplies.
I recently signed up for an event using EventBrite – it offered an option to post to my Facebook wall that I had RSVP’d and was planning to attend. I clicked “yes,” sharing it with my network via my wall. While some people responded that they would be joining me, another discussion also popped up – around the language that event organizers use when they want to attract – let’s just call it – “young energy.” The discussion was remarkable both for its intelligent conversation and for its tone of respect – not always a given in “Facebook wall discussion.”
In my post, I had described the event as being geared for “young professionals,” hoping to avoid the conversation about the stated age range (25-39), because - really, how are a 40-year-old’s needs or ideas older, or less valuable, than a 39-year-old’s? – age ranges delineate the difference between young and old in a way that’s not always helpful.
Sarah Lefton, co-founder of G-dcast.com, registered her frustration with the phrase "young professionals", noting that “this is a pet peeve phrase of mine and Federations seem to love it.”
Susanne Goldstone Rosenhouse (she of Jewish Tweets and so much more Jewish social media), added: “[she and her husband] went to an event here in Dallas for 'Young Professionals' and were literally the only marrieds there. The attendees thought we were chaperones or something. At least in NY or LA its a more ambiguous term.”
I (unintentionally) fomented the discussion with a few words. “Just don’t call it a singles event.”
Sarah responded that her objection wasn’t about marital status, but about the implication of “professionals”: “Are grad students, teachers, artists and nonprofit workers unwelcome? Because to me, what is coded into the phrase young professionals is, ‘people with money.’" She noted that, if truly everyone young is welcome, why not say young adults? Speaking from her experience as someone who was “dirt broke poor” as an artist and non profit employee and felt excluded by Jewish events, she said that “whether they MEANT to feel exclusive is not the point. It's what the perception is on the outside.”
Another commenter responded with the observation that in a different time and place, "Jewish Young Professional" could have meant something different, and that moreover, in different neighborhoods and denominations, even the word “Jewish” has differing definitions.
So here’s EstherK’s question: how do we make sure that what we name our “young professionals” divisions reflects both intention and a feeling of inclusion, while making sure that our events attract the appropriate populations?
Sarah (a former ad exec) suggests that “focus groups help us get outside our own experience…the phrase ‘young professionals’ seems to be at least a psychological barrier to entry to at least some people.”
Most organizations struggle with these labels as well as with age cut-offs. On the one hand, you want to indicate that a certain event is geared with a certain age, area of interest or marital status in mind, so people don't come with vastly unrealistic expectations. But who is to say that a 36-year-old has different needs than a 35-year-old when it comes to programming, socializing, etc? Take me as an example: I don't mind mixing with people who are already married, and who have children. But if an event promising an "exploration of the Passover seder" turns into "how to engage your children during a late-night Jewish ritual," that probably wouldn’t be something I’d make time for in my schedule.
Additionally, the term 'young leadership' may also be a challenge for people who might be looking for a way to engage, but as a participant and not necessarily want or have time for a leadership track. And you don't have to be a commitmentphobe to dislike this term. Unless we say "young leadership" is the same as "young adults" - which makes everyone a leader, whether or not they want it to.
I always vote for inclusion, and for events that are so wildly important and compelling that they include people from across different demographics in a perfect symphony of community...but which events (not the one-offs, like DAWN or even Limmud) can continually, successfully engage all demographics? The reality is that some events are more appropriate for certain populations than for others.
Sarah light-heartedly suggested that I "tell the funders you're achieving your goals on Facebook, to hell with the events. :)"
Done. I’m pretty sure my blog is now eligible for a major Jewish continuity grant.
What do you think, blogosphere? Is there a magic solution to this issue of language, inclusion and specificity surrounding “Jewish young adult” events?
Rejected titles for this post include: Welcome to the Gun Show; Decaf Mocha Rifle Latte; No Foam, No Whip; and others...
If you ever watched 24, you know that Jack Bauer was always setting up perimeters. I personally loved it when he barked at the young CTU agents that they needed to set up a perimeter and wait for his orders. It was his way of cordoning off an area as a danger zone (cue the Kenny Loggins). But did you ever wonder what it felt like to be inside the perimeter? Well, welcome to the gun show.
All I wanted was a change of scenery and a latte on a Sunday morning. And I ended up inside the perimeter, as our friendly neighborhood Starbucks was nearly surrounded by "black-and-whites" (slang for police cars, if "Law & Order" and every other crime procedural on TV is to be believed). The cars pulled up to the curb on Robertson, just north of Pico, and I watched (along with about 25 other caffeinated customers) as the cops got out, dashed around the sides of the car to the trunk, pulled out rifles or shotguns or some other artillery, donned Kevlar vests and crouched, ready for their orders.
The two baristas, two Israeli students who had been sitting at the same table with me, and I ran to the back of the store, away from the windows that cover the entire corner arc of Pico to Robertson. Everyone else seemed to think it was a better idea to run TOWARD the windows. You know, to see what's happening, but also to potentially see how bulletproof the glass is. I tweeted at the back of the store and updated my Facebook status:
Guns in pico robertson in daylight; am safe inside starbucks, but the cops keep pulling up and unloading shotguns. I am guessing zombies.
I give myself points for using a semi-colon and keeping my sense of humor, but deduct points for not capping "Starbucks" or "Pico-Robertson." Also, if I'd had time to self-edit, I would have gone with "My guess? Zombies."
The baristas locked us in, as much to keep us safe from any potential gunfire as to keep out the hot-coffee-seeking people who were still steadily streaming into the store as if there weren't cops with guns drawn surrounding us. But there was something very claustrophobic about being locked inside a Starbucks. Eventually the baristas realized they couldn't lock us in - that it was a smarter idea to close the store entirely until the situation had subsided. So that's what they did - basically telling us to leave.
I walked out the side door with about five other bewildered people. We squinted at the sunlight and tried to figure out where we could go, because we couldn't go home and we couldn't stay here. I was on foot, so I hoofed it north, quickly, as a helicopter hovered overhead like a giant mosquito that I wouldn't try to swat.
But as I left the corner, I tweeted, which became the central piece of information in a report on LAist, to date the only publication online to mention it (mostly because the editor follows me on Twitter). I walked fast in the opposite direction - stopping for frozen yogurt at Toppings and then continuing north and east to the Old Navy at Beverly and La Cienega. So much for journalistic instincts about getting the story and finding out what happened. Christiane Amanpour...your job is safe. I fled the scene - when the going got tough, the tough went shopping.
As I continued to check in via social media, I learned different pieces of information - unverified, of course. It might have been a break-in gone bad; the perp might have been heavily armed; there might have been a hostage situation. All "might," because no one had any real information - it was all hearsay.
Several days later, there's still no report of it in any official news medium. It's almost like the whole thing was a dream. Some of my friends are still convinced it was a film - I maintain that you can't do that to the population of a neighborhood on a Sunday unless you warn them: posting signs, specifically getting permission from local business owners, etc. Los Angeles must have rules about such things.
But I found myself shaking my head in wonder - I lived in New York for a decade, and have been to Israel myriad times (I'm convinced that the US State Department has the warning against visiting Israel laminated and hanging on a wall). I've walked through some sketchy neighborhoods at night, worked on the edge of Harlem, and been on the NYC subways during hours when no one should be awake, let alone underground. But it turned out that the least safe place to be was at the busiest intersection in my largely Jewish neighborhood, around 12:15 pm on a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon. The words "who knew?" don't even begin to cover it.
But I guess that's the human variable at work - it's not really the neighborhood, and not inherently the night time that's dangerous. A felon can just as easily leave his or her "bad neighborhood" and perpetrate crimes elsewhere, during the day, in broad daylight. Or as one of our IT people used to say at MTV Networks, "there's only one problem with computers: they're made by humans."
We've all been at that point, when you're so frustrated with your work that you just want to grab a beer, inflate the slide and jump out of the aircraft, sliding your way to freedom. Those of us with a reality filter know we can't do that. We'll lose our jobs, be the subject of ridicule - there will be repercussions, not the least of which will be bad PR for our company, which maybe isn't so bad after all. But this week, one flight attendant threw caution to the wind and himself off an airplane, resulting in the company's mobilization of social media to turn the PR around.
For the first 48 hours following Slater’s famous beer slide, JetBlue said nothing. Then, on Wednesday, JetBlue made the scantest of acknowledgments. On its “BlueTales” blog, it noted that:
"[...]it wouldn’t be fair for us to point out absurdities in other corners of the industry without acknowledging when it’s about us.
Well, this week’s news certainly falls into that category. Perhaps you heard a little story about one of our flight attendants? While we can’t discuss the details of what is an ongoing investigation, plenty of others have already formed opinions on the matter. Like, the entire Internet. (The reason we’re not commenting is that we respect the privacy of the individual. People can speak on their own behalf; we won’t do it for them.) "
While this episode may feed your inner Office Space, we just want to take this space to recognize our 2,300 fantastic, awesome and professional Inflight Crewmembers for delivering the JetBlue Experience you’ve come to expect of us."
It’s a wily little post, expertly done—mixing cheeky self-deprecation, ostensible privacy concerns, an apt and funny YouTube link (to the Office Space movie), and only the tiniest dose of PR pablum. What’s fascinating, however, is that these 140 or so words constitute almost the entire response to a story that has had every media outlet scrambling all week.
JetBlue has always been pretty good about establishing a casual, friendly tone, and using loyal social media base to get their message out - "Sure, there are blips, as in any business, but basically, we do a great job, and we respond to our customers and people like us because of it."
They created a Customer Bill of Rights that includes benefits like compensation to customers who are involuntarily denied boarding, free movies to customers whose planes are delayed by 3 hours, and $15 credits on future flights if the in-flight entertainment is busted.
Beyond the blog, JetBlue has nearly 1.6 million followers on Twitter, where their customer response ranges from "thanks for the tweet" and "you're our new favorite customer" to helping customers with specific questions ("Have you called the BOS baggage service office or the SFO office?")
Of course, once you're actively engaging with an audience, you run the risk of actively engaging with humorists like the extremely well-followed Andy Borowitz, who launched a Twitter war with JetBlue, all but egging on readers to accost flight attendants - JetBlue was not amused. But everything, even responsive and lighthearted customer service, has limits. JetBlue might be friendly, but they're also a company with liability concerns. Even if it's clear that Borowitz, a humorist, isn't serious when he hashtags a tweet with #shitmyjetblueflightattendantsays, once he crosses into suggesting (even in jest) that customers attack flight attendants, JetBlue has to be responsible and drop the humor, if only for fear of legal ramifications.
This is a goldmine opportunity. You should definitely hire this guy, and have him make a bunch of funny youtube videos about the do’s and dont’s of carryon luggage. Have him try to shove a size 10 carryon into a size 9 overhead, sideways. At the end he could have a little sign off (think Dan Rather’s “Courage!”) and then take the chute out of the plane, like Batman. If you don’t somebody else will, why not get the credit for being fair to someone who is viewed by many as a hero, and at the same time turn some lemon-like bad publicity into some earned advertising lemonade.
It's too late for this particular suggestion, but Matt was correct on the "if you don't somebody else will" front; Spirit Air has already released an ad which " they've e-mailed customers a $35 coupon that shows a guy holding two beers and jumping, Steven Slater like, down an inflatable exit slide. "Don't be blue, slide down to low fares," says the copy." (Via AdWeek's AdFreak blog)
To sum up...what excited me about this whole JetBlue story is that the airline illustrated that social media:
1) Can go beyond spin control and reverse the tide of less-than-ideal PR
2) Can mobilize fans as supporters and as informal focus group on next steps
3) Can distribute additional information that shows they have a sense of humor, but also establishes boundaries when it comes to discussion on something that might have legal ramifications.
What are your thoughts about JetBlue's response to "The Steven Slater Incident"?
What’s a Twimprimatur? Here’s a hint: I made it up during a radio interview as the DJ was quizzing me about proper use of the RT (retweet) function on Twitter.
And here’s another hint: imprimatur + Twitter. (Imprimatur literally means “let it be printed,” but here are some more definitions.)
In July, I was interviewed by Rusty Mike Radio in Jerusalem - we went deep into blogging, Twitter, Facebook, and more. Check out the entire interview here, for insights into making these social media work better for you, as well as stories about Jewish innovation, how to make blogging into a quasi-career, how my online network got me a new computer, and what my connection is to Madonna.
Last week, Leah Jones, Frume Sarah and I were panelists at a Los Angeles community event called "People of the (Face)Book," which examined Jewish community and social media.
The breakfast was sponsored by the ROI Community, the Jewish Federation's Next Generation Initiative, the Jewish Communal Professionals of Southern California, and Jumpstart.
Several clips are now available online, including the one below, in which Leah and I address a question about whether Facebook and Twitter are a fad or here to stay. Check them out, favorite them, add comments, retweet them, share with colleagues and friends...it's the next best thing to having been able to attend in person!
