Ann Marie's Blog

Marketing is Intercultural Communication...

...and Intercultural Communication is Marketing.

As Intercultural Professionals, my colleagues and I often think of marketing as something outside of our scope of expertise, not to mention our comfort zones. Marketing can seem bit mysterious, difficult, expensive, time-consuming, or even "dirty" or beneath us in some way.

Much of our work comes to us through "word of mouth" referrals from satisfied clients, and we really don't want to believe that it's necessary to market ourselves and our services. If we do great work, more work should simply come, right?

Unfortunately, that's not what happens in the real world, so we're often caught up in a feast or famine cycle---busy doing the work we love, with no time for marketing, or suddenly facing an empty calendar, with no idea how to fill it with the work that we love (and that someone is willing to pay us to do!).

The more I study marketing principles, the more I'm struck by the similarity between these principles and the concepts that we teach so effectively in our field. I'm realizing that we all have the potential to be more successful marketers if we can simply learn to see some of the core intercultural communication concepts in a different light and apply them to our marketing efforts. Some examples:

Values: to market effectively, we need to understand the values that drive our potential customers, that lie beneath the surface of the water in the larger part of the "iceberg."

Perspectives: we need to take the perspective of our customers, to see the world through their lenses.

Language: we need to learn, understand, and speak the language of our customers. Our marketing messages and materials need to be in their language, not ours.

Hidden rules: as in any culture, there are certain "rules" that make marketing effective. They seem mysterious, but can easily be learned from "cultural informants" (AKA marketing experts) and then used to navigate successfully.

Storytelling: We need to get better at collecting and telling stories that resonate with our potential clients and illustrate the value of the work that we do. 

Relationships: marketing is really all about building and nurturing relationships, establishing credibility, mutual trust and respect and connections. This is what we teach and, on our good days, what we do best. 

We already know how to do all of this well, so marketing shouldn't be such a mystery to us.

Intercultural communication is marketing and marketing is intercultural communication. 

It's a simple matter of reframing.

Making dreams come true

Scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed today, clicking through links to watch Martin Luther King Jr.'s "last speech," and read his 1963 Letter from Birmingham Jail, I was inspired once again, not only by his eloquent words but by the words of my friends and colleagues. Sharing some of their favorite quotes, their own hopes and dreams, and their commitment to keep working towards a better future together. 

And beyond all of these hopes and dreams, I found a concrete list of suggestions in Patti Digh's provocative 37 Days blog, reposted from 2010. 

If each of us simply chooses to act on one of our dreams this year (or chooses one of Patti's if we get stuck --- she has a long list!), imagine the progress we could make. 

I plan to start with these, in my work and my daily life:

"I have a dream that we all find commonality amidst a glorious celebration of difference.... that we stop confusing noticing difference with making a judgment."

What dreams will you make come true? 

 

Reconnecting with Home

Looking back over the blog posts I've written in the past twelve months, more than a few things surprise me:

First, and maybe most surprising, is that I actually kept my commitment to write and post something on this blog once a week. Some posts were very brief and personal, others  were closer to full-length articles, but most weeks  (4 out of every 5 weeks on average) I posted something. 

As I had dared to hope, this regular commitment really did jump-start my writing practice and inspired me to invest more time and resources in writing and other creative pursuits throughout the year.

Another pleasant surprise was that some people outside of my immediate family found useful information, even inspiration, in some of my blog posts. It was more than enough for me that my own daughter found this blog helpful when she was getting ready to move home after a semester in France. I was surprised and touched by some of the comments from perfect strangers who found my words comforting. 

Among the topics that I wrote about during the year, the one that surfaced most frequently was culture shock and cultural adjustment. Maybe this is because I'm still trying to figure out my own personal experiences with cultural adjustment, or because I work with so many people who are in the midst of some kind of cultural transition. I'm not really sure why, but this definitely stands out to me.

As I look forward to 2012, I can't wait to keep writing and I'm curious to see where this blog will take us. I've decided to stay closer to home in 2012, not actively planning or seeking out opportunities to travel much outside of the Pacific Northwest (although I probably won't say "no" if great opportunities pop up!), and wonder what new (or old) topics will emerge as a result of that intention. 

Maybe instead of culture shock and cultural adjustment, I'll be exploring the deeper roots of my own culture, or the value of reconnecting with one's home. 

I hope you'll stick around to find out!

Happy New Year.

The Art of Coming Home - Part Two - "Choose Learning"

Most people expect it to be difficult to adjust to living in a foreign country, so they prepare themselves and expect to experience some degree of culture shock. But most of us expect returning home to our own culture to be relatively easy. After all, we're coming back to a familiar place with familiar people, where we fit in and know how the system operates. Right?

Wrong.

In fact, the evidence reveals just the opposite. According to Craig Storti, in his valuable book, The Art of Coming Home, "most expatriates find readjusting back home more difficult than adjusting overseas ever was." This seems to be especially true when the experience living abroad was rich and stimulating and rewarding.

People return home, expecting to fit back in easily, only to discover that home doesn't really feel like "home" any more. They have changed, in ways that are visible (e.g. new language skills, tastes in food or styles) and not so visible (e.g. new attitudes, beliefs, or even worldviews) to the point that home feels a bit like a foreign country, and they may even feel temporarily "homeless."

When this happens strong reactions are common, and they're often negative. Judgments are formed about the pace of life, materialism, and other core values and attitudes that once seemed normal, but now stand out in stark contrast to the cultural norms that people came to appreciate abroad.

Voicing these negative judgments around friends and family who "stayed home" can quickly alienate the person returning home, intensifying the experience of reverse culture shock and making us feel marginalized all over again.

A few suggestions to ease the transition home:

• Revise your expectations, anticipate that it won't be easy to adjust to coming home
• Plan to "go easy on yourself" for a while and allow yourself time to adjust at your own pace
• Stay in touch with others who have lived abroad and can relate to and help you make sense of your experience
• Look at "coming home" as another opportunity to learn about yourself and your own and other cultures

As  Patti Digh so wisely says in her recent book, what I wish for you: simple wisdom for a happy life:

"There is no way to learn while judging. I can either learn, or I can judge myself (or others) for what I don't know, but I can't do both these things at the same time. Choose learning. Much less painful."

 

 

 

 

The Culture of Composting

This small plastic pail showed up in our driveway several weeks ago, along with a helpful step-by-step brochure titled "Include the Food: Your guide to successful food scrap collection." The new Portland Composts! program had apparently worked well in the small neighborhood test markets, and our local recycler was ready to roll out the program across the city. 

Starting October 31st our trash would be picked up every second week, and compostable scraps and yard debris every week, instead of the other way around. While some of our fellow citizens complained loudly in the editorial pages of the local newspaper about these mandated changes, I found myself thinking "no big deal, we've done this before."

Of course, when we first moved to The Netherlands and discovered that the small brown plastic pail in our kitchen was meant for food scraps, I wasn't so nonchalant. The idea of scraping our plates into the pail, then emptying it into a larger bin outside when it got full, definitely took some getting used to.

But I understood why this was a good idea in such a densely populated country with little land available for garbage dumps, and eventually grew to admire the Dutch commitment to composting and recycling. By the time we moved home to the U.S., collecting our food scraps for compost had become a habit and it felt strange to revert to putting them in the "regular" trash. 

Now, fifteen years later, reviving this habit has been easy and it feels good to see fewer items in our trash can each week. I expect that it will take some time for a culture of composting to take hold here in the U.S., with our seemingly endless expanses of land, but I admire the commitment to move forward in Portland, making the adjustment one step at a time. 

 

 

Closed Sundays.

The first time we ran out of milk on a Sunday while living in The Netherlands, our reaction was less than positive. All the stores were closed, as usual, and we were frustrated by the inconvenience. With a 3-year old at home, we didn't want to wait until Monday so we drove for miles and finally found an open gas station with a small market. We bought some milk and wrote down the address for future reference.

Coming from the 24/7 shopping culture in the U.S. to a country where the only option for shopping on Sunday was "window shopping" was a shock at first. It took some time and some effort to adapt to this different weekly rhythm.

Despite our initial frustration, we slowly learned to write detailed grocery lists, to stock up on essential items like diapers and Cheerios, and to shop early on Saturday mornings, to avoid the worst of the crowds. 

Over time, we started to really enjoy the slower pace of life on Sundays.

We took long bike rides through the woods to our favorite Pannekoeken (Dutch for "pancake") restaurant. We made our weekly 5-10 minute phone calls home to our parents in the U.S., and we hung out at friends' houses or invited them to ours so our kids could play together. 

Sundays became real days "off" and we came to rely on them to get us rested and ready for another busy week at work.

When the time came to move home to the U.S., I realized that this was one of the aspects of our life in Holland that I wanted to hang on to in some way. I had come to love these weekly breaks and I decided to make a conscious effort to keep our Sundays slow and family-focused.

It's hasn't always been easy. After all, almost everything is open every day in the U.S. and the shopping and entertainment options are endless. At times, our travel schedules or kids' sports activities have made it impossible to truly take a break on Sundays. 

But once in a while I remember to make the extra effort. To get shopping and errands done on Saturday. To plan to meet some friends for coffee  or invite my parents to join us for dinner at home on Sunday. Or simply to take a long walk with my husband, read a good book, or call one of my sisters and talk for an hour or two.

I've discovered what our Dutch friends knew all along:

Being "closed Sundays" is a great way to get ready for a new week.

 

 

The Yoga Effect

A few years ago I asked the graduate business students in my Intercultural Competence and Communication class to bring a copy or description of one of their favorite resources to share with their classmates: a book, article, film or website that had been particularly helpful to them as they studied international management and worked on group projects with their classmates from around the world.

They presented a great mix of resources about business communication and etiquette, negotiation in Asia, travel tips, language skills, and other useful stuff.

In the midst of these presentations, two of the international students surprised us with their selections. One young woman told us about her meditation practice, and described how vital this practice had been to her cultural adjustment since leaving her friends and family and coming to the U.S. to study. Another student spoke with similar emotion about her yoga practice. More than any book or article, these daily practices had helped these students survive and thrive while living in a new culture and pursuing a demanding masters degree in a foreign language.

They opened my eyes to a much broader way of thinking about useful "resources" and inspired me to expand this assignment in the future. In addition to asking for books and articles, I'll ask each student to tell us about something that they do, a "practice" that helps them be more effective students and future international managers.

It will be so interesting to hear what they have to say.

Do you have a practice that has helped you live and work outside of your cultural comfort zone? I would love to hear about it too!

 

The Best Medicine

One of the nicest things our landlords gave us when we leased their home in Holland for a few years was a two page list of their favorite local places to eat and shop, along with the names and phone numbers of various English-speaking service/repair people who were already familiar with the house and yard. 

We kept that list next to the phone in the kitchen and used it often.

As grateful as we were for the entire list, there was one name and number that still stands out today as by far the most valuable --- the name of a local family doctor who practiced out of his home about two miles from ours and spoke perfect English. Knowing that he was nearby and available if we got sick, or especially if our two-year-old daughter was ill, was comforting. 

Of course, until we actually needed medical attention, we had no idea that speaking English only meant that we would be able to tell the doctor about our symptoms and understand his diagnosis and prescriptions. Sharing a common language in no way guaranteed that we could actually expect the same approach to medical care that we were accustomed to in the U.S.

Our first clue about the fundamentally different approach to health care came when our daughter had a bad cough, which in those days (the early 1990's) would have automatically been treated with antibiotics in the U.S. Our Dutch doctor patiently explained what is now common knowledge and practice in the U.S.: that antibiotics are only useful in treating bacterial infections and that their overprescription in the U.S. was actually counterproductive. Intellectually, this made sense to us but it was still scary to take a sick child home and just wait for her to get better.

A couple years later, that same doctor confirmed my pregnancy and then sent me home with instructions to come back in 8-10 weeks if I was still pregnant. No ultrasound or other investments yet, just a realistic acknowledgement that the first 12 weeks of pregnancy are risky, especially at my advanced age of 35! He did assure me, though, that if I wanted to deliver this baby in Holland I would be allowed to go to a hospital, even though most Dutch women give birth at home with a midwife. 

Then there was the time that our houseguest from the U.S. had a medical emergency in the middle of the night. Not only did our neighborhood doctor answer his phone at 2:00 am, but he told us to bring our guest to his home office immediately, where he examined and treated her (maybe in his pajamas--I don't remember). No need to call an ambulance or go to the ER. Just a quick drive down the street and back home again to bed. 

Sometimes the best medicine is a different approach than we expected...

 

 

Unexpected connections. Unexpected inspirations.

I was in Minnesota for a few days last week with some of my SIETAR-USA colleagues, scouting the location for our 2012 national conference and strategizing about the future of our professional organization. 

There's something about the culture of the Twin Cities of Minneapolis-St. Paul that feels really grounding and inspiring to me at the same time. My local friends talk about the small-town feel of their big cities and the way that everyone knows everyone else. Six degrees of separation seems more like one or two degrees of separation there. Unexpected connections and inspirations seem to be everywhere.

One of my best friends from college lives near Minneapolis and we try to spend time together whenever I visit the area. During this recent visit she invited me to a Family Weekend event at University of St. Thomas, where one of her sons is a Senior. She wanted to hear Michele Norris, host of NPR's All Things Considered, speak about her book, The Grace of Silence: A Family Memoir. I wanted to spend time with her and her family so I happily agreed to tag along.

I've listened to Michele Norris and enjoyed her voice and her show for years, but I really didn't know much about her. I had no idea that she was born and raised in Minnesota or that hers was the first black family on the block in a south Minneapolis neighborhood. I knew nothing about her book, and had never visited her website or heard about her Race Card project. 

As I sat in the auditorium with my friend and her family I was captivated by Michele and her story. She described how the original intention for this book, to write about the conversations around race in America, had morphed into a deeply personal family memoir which, in turn, had been selected as the "first-ever community read" in the One Minneapolis, One Read program.

When Michele  first toured the country talking about her book, she printed postcards with the word RACE at the top and invited her audiences to share their thoughts in six words. At the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis last week, people who had read Michele's book stood up and read their Race Cards aloud. Michele said she was awed and humbled by the experience.

Not only were people in her hometown reading her book. They were having the kinds of real conversations about race that she had originally hoped to capture in print.  By exploring her own family's history and sharing their story, she's inspired others to share their stories in a way that has amplified the conversation exponentially.

And she inspired me to return to a second day of SIETAR-USA Board Meetings with a much bigger vision, for our conference next year in Minneapolis and for the impact we can make through the conversations we initiate through our work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Seasons of Culture Shock

Today we woke up to the first really dark, wet, gray, cool morning in Portland in a while. Days like this don't stop me and my friends from exercising outside. We're native Oregonians and we know how to layer our fleece and waterproof shells to stay warm and dry, even in the worst weather. We just pull out the rain gear and hats and step outside. In fact, we actually like working out in the rain. 

Call us crazy. Lots of people do.

Especially people who move here from other parts of the world where the sun shines most of the time. For them, the shock of moving to a new country and adjusting to a new culture, is compounded in Oregon by the slow realization sometime in October or November that the dark, gray clouds are here to stay for a while. By December everyone is going to work in the morning in the dark, and returning home after work in the dark --- even if they leave the office at 5:00 pm! A perfect recipe for magnifying the low end of the mood swings that come along with culture shock.

Unfortunately, we can't change the weather, but we can plan for it and minimize some of the negative effects. Some strategies that have helped my international students and clients adjust and get through the long Oregon winters (which, by the way, include the late Fall and often the entire Spring seasons) include daily doses of:

• Exercise: they join a gym, play on a sports team, sign up for classes, take a walk. Doing some kind of physical activity every day helps to distract them from the weather and makes them feel more energized.
• Fresh air: even on the darkest days, they bundle up and get outside during the middle of the day. The sun may not be shining, but the fresh air can still lift spirits.
• Friends and family: they plan activities with new friends and stay in touch with friends and family back home through Facebook, Skype, or e-mail. They focus on their relationships and not on the weather. 
• Adventure: they get out and explore their new surroundings. They plan activities for the evenings and weekends and try new things like hiking, snowboarding, playing golf or attending an American football or NBA basketball game.
• Clothing: they discover that the key to staying warm and dry in Oregon is layers! They invest in a few items of clothing that can be worn together or separately as the weather changes, which makes them feel more confident about getting outside and exploring. 
• Indoor activities: sometimes when the weather is nasty outside the best way to pass the time is with a fun indoor activity. They make plans to see new movies and plays in theaters, host dinner parties at home or spend the evening in a restaurant or pub with friends. 

 Sometimes they even get a little crazy and start to like going out in the rain!