Tag: brunches

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#unfiltered #25 Meeting the Curiously Passionate and the Passionately Curious – The Why and The Where

travel, meeting people, rabbi sacks

“It’s the people not like us who make us grow.”

– Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks on The Tim Ferriss Show Ep. #455

I recently tuned into, at the time of writing this post, Tim Ferriss’ third most recent podcast episode, interviewing Rabbi Sacks. Although I’m a regular listener to the show, I wasn’t expecting much. I neither have a history of being religious nor spiritual – merely peripheral curiosity. Yet, I don’t hesitate for one second to say: It is, by far, one of the most insightful and enlightening podcast episodes I’ve heard in 2020. So, if you have a spare 1.5 hours, I highly recommend it, especially if you’re looking for a perspective shift on:

  • Leadership,
  • Seeking peer approval,
  • What a single cold “call”/visit could get you,
  • And the need for “cultural climate change” in the understanding between the balance of “I” and “we”.

And Rabbi Sacks masterfully weaves these concepts together. While my reaction will never do his insights justice, two other thoughts, each paired with their own story, I had to double click on:

“Good leaders create followers, great leaders create leaders.”

“What happens when you’re in a situation in which you have done something that has generated widespread disapproval? How do you deal with that?

“Win the respect of the people you respect.”

And I digress.

The Bubble

I’ve lived my entire life so far in the Bay Area, barring a few vacations and excursions here and there. I was born here. I went through 12 years of grade school here. 13 if you count kindergarten. And though I had the option of leaving the Bay for college, I ended up choosing a school here as well. Truth be told, I might as well have “Made in the Bay” stamped on my forehead.

I live in a bubble. But I know I breathe in one. Not just geographically, but educationally, racially, sexually, socioeconomically, and so on.

Being a shy introvert pre-adulthood didn’t help with broadening my perspective on life either. I still remember the days in high school when I dreaded the teacher calling on me. Clammy palms, cold sweat, rigid spine. I would never vocally question disagreement. Equally, I would rather be a people pleaser than cause what I deemed to be unnecessary friction. I was a seafood hors d’ouevres of perturbation.

So, by inspiration from a mentor, I took actionable steps to conquer my own demons. Meet one new person you’re extremely excited to meet every single week for a year.

While I still carry the artifacts of myself yesterday, learning to balance myself between the person I thought and think I needed to become and the person I was, I began my journey 6 years ago.

The Pop in the Bubble

I’d be fronting if I said I wasn’t scared shitless when I began. Though I don’t think everyone in the world has this dilemma, I’m confident I am not alone. I had and have all these scenarios playing in my head. A bunch of ‘what-ifs’. What if they think I’m too nosy? What if they don’t have time to respond? Or what if they hate me for bothering them?

They say it gets better over time. And they’re not wrong. But I still have that lingering, gnawing feeling whenever I click send or put myself out there. While, over the years, the fears never fully dissipated, I’ve learned to tango with discomfort. In the words of my mentor who inspired my journey:

“You’re never as good as they say you are, but you’re also not as bad as they say you are. And hell, you can’t even be bad if they don’t even know who you are.”

… which I believe he drew inspiration from Lou Holtz. Shortly after, I clicked the “Send” button at the bottom of my first ‘curiosity’ email. After all, like he said, what’s the worst that can happen? Getting ignored. And as such, I would be no better nor worse off than I was and am in that cross section in time. With that assurance, it eventually led me to find my cold email “template” and hosting social experiments, like Brunches with Strangers.

The Where

Over the past few weeks, a few new people asked me: “Where do you find these people to reach out to?” Although it’s not the first and I assume certainly not the last, I thought I’d share in the form of this post as a possible inspiration for how we can grow, if I were to paraphrase Rabbi Sacks.

While I don’t characterize myself as a voracious reader, I allot time every day and have found many of my Senseis in the form of literature and discourse – online and offline, printed and taped, and in-person and remote. Including:

  • Books
  • Online articles/press releases
  • Newsletters
  • YouTube videos
  • Movies
  • Podcasts
  • Webinars/fireside chats
  • Textbooks
  • And, other people

One level deeper

To look beyond my own horizon, I tune into Pocket‘s Discover tab, or a platform I’ve recently fallen in love with, Readocracy. You can check out what online reading I’ve been up to lately on my Readocracy profile. And I can’t wait, when I can start tracking the books I read and the podcasts I listen to on there. I’m also fortunate enough to have friends who read, write, listen, and socialize with different social and professional circles than I do and am in. And as I meet more people, the spectrum of topics and interests snowball upon each other, as we help each other see new perspectives – some of which we never thought were possible.

Admittedly, where I find who to reach out to is, by no means, special or esoteric. In topics, I look into ones I’m genuinely interested in, in that moment and predictably beyond, even if it’s only a month or two, as promiscuous as I might be for many. In my short phases of promiscuity, I nevertheless take deep dives. Deep, yet often, not long. At the same time, I have a small handful of evergreen interests, like:

  • The art and science of building relationships,
  • The art of creating irreplaceable memories,
  • Psychology and mental models,
  • Swimming and intense athleticism,
  • Art as a multi-faceted definition,
  • Startups,
  • Technology and what lies at its frontier,
  • The final frontier – outer space and its cosmological inhabitants,
  • And the future.

In people, I look for two things:

  1. Inflection points in their life. Oxymorons/ironies. Overt and covert contradictions.
    • If I were to make assumptions given their initial attributes (i.e. education, age, gender, geography, career, life choices/circumstances, etc.), would I have been able to predict where they are now?
    • Of course, in making these assumptions, it is also my responsibility to be aware and to tread carefully where I should. Unfortunately, ignorance is not an excuse. If I’m unsure, I err on the side of caution.
  2. Deep intellectual curiosity and passion. Whom I call the passionately curious and the curiously passionate.

In closing

While I’m prone to talking too much at times, during these moments, it is my duty and the highest form of respect I can offer, to listen. If I were to take it from a selfish note, I learn so much more when I listen. And in actively listening, and actively checking my biases, to respond with thoughtful questions.

So, I’ll close on more thing Rabbi Sacks said in his recent interview with Tim Ferriss:

“Safe space means that courteous discipline of respectful listening.”

Photo by Mantas Hesthaven on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups, as well as cataloging the history of tomorrow through the bookmarks of yesterday!

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#unfiltered #11 What I Learned About Building Communities through Social Experiments – Touching Jellyfish, Types of Social Experiments, The Thesis, Psychological Safety and Fairness

jellyfish, social experiment, psychological safety, how to build a community
Are these jellyfish friendly or not? Will they “bite”?

As colorful and as beautiful jellyfish are, we are still scared of the possible danger that each possess. So, most of us only admire them from afar. And for many of us who have seen some, we’ve watched them float gracefully in dark blue aqueous solutions across a sometimes distorted film of glass. These beautiful mysteries of the deep blue.

To Touch the Jellyfish

Much like my fascination every time my parents brought me to the aquarium as a kid, I’ve been fascinated with the people around me. Especially about the thin, sometimes distorted, film between these exceptionally fascinating souls and me. The distortion created as a function of society’s, as well as their own, efforts.

Exactly a year and two months ago, I embarked on a journey to host small-scale social experiments, like:

  • Hidden Questions. A game where no one else knows the question, except for the person answering it. And where the person answering has the choice of sharing the question that inspired the answer or taking it to the grave by taking a shot of hot sauce (about a 700,000 on the Scoville scale, for reference) or a variable number of Beanboozled beans.
  • Brunches with Strangers. Quite literally, Saturday brunches with strangers. Hosting a cast of people from all walks of life. Like founders, street artists, astrophysicists, concept artists, athletes, criminal investigators, filmmakers, college drop-outs, and much more.
  • The Curious Case of Aliases. Where players (strangers to each other) under aliases guess each other’s hobbies, occupations, deepest fears, etc. after only playing in a 30-minute game session. For instance, skribbl.io. Cards Against Humanity. Codenames. And Mafia.
  • And, the most recent addition to my small Rolodex of social experiments, Improv Presentations. A TED talk-like night where people present someone else’s creatively esoteric slide decks, with no context as to what’s in the deck until they’re on “stage”. To the postmortem dismay of my cheeks and core, we saw everything from how to survive a cat-pocalypse to how to master the art of DM’ing using military tactics to how to be a good plant parent.

The Thesis, The Questions

As COVID would have it, the lack of in-person interaction and self-quarantine inspired the last two. Yet, all of which with the same thesis: helping make the world feel a little smaller, a little closer, and a whole lot more interesting. Starting not with the people who bathe in the limelight, but with the people directly around me.

Why is it so hard to be candid with strangers? And sometimes, even harder with family and friends?

Do we need alcohol, drugs, crazy incidents, violence, a lack of sleep, or stress to truly be ourselves?

Though not all-encompassing, people seem to be naturally curious about things, events, status, money, and gossip. Why aren’t people more curious about people – well, as just themselves? Like me, you’ve probably posed and have gotten the question: “How are you?” or “How are you doing?”. And likely, with more times than one is willing to admit, we didn’t really care about what the answer might be. Often times, since we know we’re just going to get a “Good” or “OK” in response.

If you want to have some fun, I highly recommend the next time someone asks you that, say “Terrible”. And watch the computer chip in their brain malfunction for a quick second.

What did I learn?

I won’t claim I found the universal truth or a holistic answer to any of those questions I posed above. Because I haven’t. After all, someone I really respect once told me:

“50% of what you know is true. 50% is false. The problem is you don’t know which half is which.”

So, in my life, my goals are two-fold:

  1. Build a system to help me discern my two halves of knowledge.
  2. Expand the total capacity of what I know.

I will share more on this blog as I am able to draw more lines of regression myself.

But in the context of this post, through social experiments, I’ve discovered that people yearn for psychological safety. Not only does Google’s Project Aristotle share its effectiveness in the workplace, it’s equally, if not more true, outside of it as well. The reason that it’s sometimes easier to share your thoughts and struggles with strangers is that strangers often won’t judge you to the same extent as friends and family do. Frankly, they don’t have much context to judge you from – implicitly and explicitly.

People want fairness. Not in the sense of you get 1 cookie, so I should get 1 too. But a fair system to be judged by. That I will get the same benefit of doubt as you will give to anyone and everyone else. When we all get drunk together, we will all be drunk and we will all relieve ourselves of any filters we may previously have. And though everyone’s drunk personality is different, and frankly everyone will still be judged… For that moment, that night, everyone’s on the same playing field.

The Applications

Let’s take most recent experiment with improv presentations as an example. The initial idea was that everyone should present their own slide decks. As serious or as silly as they might be. But some of my friends were hesitant. In their words, they felt they needed to “impress” or “have better public speaking skills”. Some simply said that they didn’t think they’d “be as good as others”.

Before our first “TED Talks@Home”, I shifted it altogether where we’d all be presenting each other’s presentation. All of us would have no context as to what we’re presenting until we get on “stage”. Whether we were experts on a specific topic or in comedy or deck-making, we’re all jumping into a bottomless pool together. After our second virtual improv night, this past weekend, between muted giggles and visual laughs, one of the presenters told me that it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, and that she’d want to do it again.

Luckily, it seems more than 60% of my friends, colleagues, and acquaintances come back to participate in more brunches or game sessions or improv nights. 1 in 4 guests have proactively started friendships outside of the experiments. And about 5% have introduced their new friends to their friend circles. A small handful have also been inspired to start their own. So, maybe I’m doing something right.

Building Communities

The same (psychological safety and fair system) holds true for building communities, creating your corporate culture, and finding and keeping your friend group and your significant other. Although in the context of building communities, but applicable elsewhere as well, I forget who told me this once:

“A strong community has both value and values.”

– The person who told me this, please come claim this quote

Value is why people initially come out to join a community and admittedly, reach out to be a friend. Whether it’s because of who you know or what you can offer or how you can help them pass the time, it’s the truth. Values are why they stay. And safety happens to be one of those values.

In closing

As always, my findings aren’t meant to be prescriptive. But merely act as a guide – another tool in your toolkit – so that you are better equipped for future endeavors.

Like with people, when one day I get to touch a jellyfish, I don’t care about being stung. But I do want to know where I can touch where I won’t be stung. And subsequently, where I will touch where I know I will be stung. The difference between going in blind and not is that when I get stung, I am prepared to be.

Photo by Mathilda Khoo on Unsplash

#unfiltered is a series where I share my raw thoughts and unfiltered commentary about anything and everything. It’s not designed to go down smoothly like the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had (although here‘s where I found mine), more like the lonely coffee bean still struggling to find its identity (which also may one day find its way into a more thesis-driven blogpost). Who knows? The possibilities are endless.

Stay up to date with the weekly cup of cognitive adventures inside venture capital and startups!

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Five Lessons from “Brunches with Strangers”

Photo by Jay Wennington on Unsplash

One of the biggest aspects I lost when I graduated from college was the social life. All my social interactions these days range from driving distance to the need to cross the Pacific or Atlantic, compared to a simpler time when my friends were within walking distance. So, earlier this year, I started a little passion project: Brunch with Strangers (BWS).

BWS began as an effort for me to:

  • Help overcome my deep fear of public speaking;
  • Have an excuse to bring fascinating souls to the same table;
  • And, help make the San Francisco Bay Area feel just a little smaller and just a little more human.

It’s a Saturday brunch I hold every fortnight between six to eight thrill-seekers, hustlers, crafts(wo)men, entrepreneurs, engineers, and curiously-curious individuals. They are working on interesting projects, have captivating stories, and/or possess an infectious drive for their passion. The key element is that I have to be reasonably confident that they don’t know more than one other person who will be at BWS before the meal, which is, admittedly, harder than I initially thought for folks in the Bay Area. After 20 brunches, with a little over 100 guests and circling back in with 90% of them in the post-mortem, here are the five main takeaways from these enthralling conversations, ordered from the most to least intuitive for me:

  1. Structured conversations work better than unstructured conversations.
  2. Cap it.
  3. The culinary experience doesn’t matter.
  4. Embrace “awkward” silences.
  5. Don’t introduce the guests before the day of the brunch.

Structured conversations work better than unstructured conversations.

But what does “better” mean? I measure “better” by the guests’ answer, a month after the brunch, to the question:

Were you able to catch up with another BWS guest (whom you did not know beforehand) in person?

In the context of startups, that question is how I measure my product-market fit, which I share more context to in a separate post. Guests of a structured BWS are 30% more likely to catch up in person within a month of the brunch than guests who join me in an unstructured BWS. Between structured and unstructured brunches, a structured brunch is when I have at least one activity or topic planned for during the brunch, whereas unstructured brunch, my “control variable”, happens when the guests get to decide how and where the conversation goes, and discussion is more free-flowing.

Over the score of brunches I’ve hosted, the two most well-received activities were 1) a game I call Hidden Questions, and 2) where each guest brings two asks.

Hidden Questions, inspired by Jimmy Fallon’s Pour It Out, is a game where each person has to answer truthfully two to three questions, written by the previous group of people who played the game, but is not required to reveal what the question is. The deck of questions the previous group writes, which even I’m not privy to look through, can cover any topic and ask any range of questions – from favorite books to deepest fears to NSFW ones. Some of my personal favorite are “When was the last time you uncontrollably cried?” and “When was the last time you said ‘I love you’?”. If the person answering the question does not reveal the question itself, he/she has to eat a Beanboozled bean or take a spoonful of one of the spicier hot sauces found on the show Hot Ones. The catch is before the person answering the question decides to reveal question or not, the other guests can ask clarifying questions and bet additional beans or spoonfuls of hot sauce for the person to eat if he/she doesn’t reveal. So, if he/she does, then the other guests eat what they bet. It’s a fascinating game that creates a safe space where people have the excuse to be vulnerable, as well as revealing each person’s level of risk aversion.

On the flip side, to help guests mentally prepare and pick the dilemma of the highest priority, I ask guests at least 48 hours, up to a week, in advance to bring two asks to the brunch:

  1. One that they’d feel comfortable sharing with most of their friends;
  2. And, one that’s either deeply troubling them and require them to be vulnerable, or one that shows a very different side of them that most people they know might not recognize.

The asks themselves are structured by answering two questions: ‘What are you currently working on?’ and ‘What do you need help with?’, which can range from work to personal life to new projects and hobbies to relationships. When the time comes to share the guests’ asks, usually about 20 minutes in, I ask them to share the one they’re more comfortable in sharing. Based on what they share, I can gauge how comfortable they are with the other guests, as well as indicate how well I’m doing my job.

The asks also incentivize mentorship from folks who have had wildly different experiences in different industries at different ages. For example, an autonomous driving product manager provided advice on building systems to streamline communication to a remote workforce to a newly-minted landlord and property manager by predicting actions and that may need to be taken by the landlord’s employees and working to preempt them. In another brunch, an indie film producer taught us all how to hustle, be scrappy, and run effective crowdfunding campaigns by going back to the roots of meeting people face-to-face rather than over the Interwebs. And more recently, a digital nomad shared his $0.02 on how to build a network and community in a new geography and culture from scratch by being willing to do manual labor and noticing when people needed help, to build trust.

Cap it.

One of the best conversationalists I know, Bobby, once told me:

“A great conversation is like flirting with a girl you really like.”

Share enough to make him/her interested, but close the conversation sooner than you’d like to suggest a sense of scarcity, as well as a reason to go on a second date. If you reveal everything too soon, your audience will most likely lose interest as soon as they have no more questions, like how many of my friends have spoiled the whole plot of Game of Thrones (and now it’s The Mandalorian) before I even began Episode 1 of Season 1.

The same seems to be true for the BWS conversations. I found a moderately strong negative correlation between the length of the meal and the number of in-person catch-ups within a month of the meal, after the first one-and-a-half hours (and a moderately weak negative correlation of meal length and number of in-person catch-ups, if the meal length lasted between an hour and an hour and a half).

Both to be respectful to others’ schedules and to motivate them to catch up after, I cap the brunches to 1.5 hours. To be fair, I am still testing out the optimal length of time, since I don’t have a big enough sample size to decide from.

The culinary experience doesn’t matter.

I initially thought that more interesting meals and/or great eats, which at times, fell on the more expensive side at two to three dollar signs, would give folks, in the worst possible scenario, the culinary experience to talk about when they have no other topic or background of each other. It turns out the culinary experience doesn’t have a strong correlation to the reduction of the number of awkward silences, which I assumed would serve as a leading indicator for how likely guests were to catch up in-person after.

In fact, even when guests had the disposable income to afford the meal, when a meal is expected to exceed $50 per person, it is more likely that the culinary experience detracts from how vulnerable a person can be.

The culinary experience will always come second to the guests and the conversation they bring.

Embrace “awkward” silences.

Speaking of awkward silences, my initial goal was to reduce the number of “awkward” silences in a conversation. Maybe it was my anxiety speaking, but I realized two things:

  • What’s awkward to me may not be awkward to another;
  • And, silences are diamonds yet to form (under pressure).

Some people need time to digest everything they have heard up to that point in the conversation. Some people need a break to eat the food they ordered. Some people need time to formulate the next question they want to ask. But for me, silence offers an opportunity to allow guests to dig deeper.

In relation to silence, fours years ago, one of my dearest mentor figures, Robin, shared two rather insightful tips with me:

  1. “Listening is the most important of conversation, and silence, too is one of the sounds a conversation emits.”
  2. “People like to talk about themselves. Give them the opportunity to.”

Silence is that opportunity for people to share more about their life stories. And with the right prompt, it can become a safe space for them to be more vulnerable. And there are two ways I help them continue, with the addendum that I, myself, am vulnerable with them first, earlier in the brunch:

  1. Lean in. Ideally, with an open inquisitive look. I don’t have to say anything, but it will eventually prompt them to continue. It might feel a bit awkward at first.
  2. Ask them to rewind to a point they brought up that I find fascinating, curious, or needs more explanation.

Late night talk show hosts, like Conan O’Brien and Stephen Colbert, and podcast hosts, like Tim Ferriss and Cal Fussman, are really acute at catching these moments and serve as great case studies.

Don’t introduce the guests before the day of the brunch.

At first glance, this seems a bit counter-intuitive. Of course, I want the guests of each BWS to be excited for people who are going to be present at the brunch. I would absolutely love to show off the wicked roster of brilliant individuals each time. What ended up happening is when I did initially release the guest list, many guests did some diligence of the other attendees, and a few came to the brunch with predisposed assumptions of who the others were.

Though most tend to be relatively accurate assumptions, the brunch lost its air of mystery and curiosity which affected the guests in two noticeable ways.

  1. The guests who did their research were less curious on what they thought they knew about another guest and rarely ended up discovering the thought and emotional complexity behind social media posts, titles, and press releases.
  2. Over half of the guests who had been researched felt they couldn’t be as vulnerable as they would have liked, in efforts to “live up” to the expectations of the guests who did their research.

So, going against the grain, I decided, after the first five brunches, to no longer release the guest list prior to the meal.

In closing

With many more to follow, the lessons learned now is only the tip of the iceberg, as I continue my adventure learning from the craziest, the most curious, the most creative, and the most inspiring people out there.

À l’année prochaine!

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