Teaching myself small talk

Lexey Swall photo

You may have even heard of, or experienced, the 'Gen Z stare,' an unblinking reaction to a Gen X or millennial attempt at small talk.”

My generation is not known for being good at talking to people. In fact, we’re famously bad at it, if you ask anyone older than 30. We can’t hold a casual conversation, much less initiate one. You may have even heard of, or experienced, the “Gen Z stare,” an unblinking reaction to a Gen X or millennial attempt at small talk.

As a 19-year-old born smack dab in the middle of Generation Z, I can confirm that there’s some truth to this stereotype. My friends are apprehensive about calling sales representatives or even calling ahead to order food rather than ordering online. Their clarifying questions go unanswered, but at least you don’t have to actually talk to anyone, right?

Personally, I usually prefer calling to texting, but I do often find myself relying on my phone instead of communicating face-to-face. On public transit, in awkward moments of silence, I turn to my phone rather than face the world around me.

So what happens when you throw a teenager into situations where she can’t rely on technology? Situations in which her job is to make small talk, to interact with people face-to-face?

My time at Beacon Publishing was bound to answer that question. I’ve been interning here since May as a writer and reporter, covering a few stories a week – everything from business openings to local construction to the Edmonds Pride Festival.

Though I sometimes used my phone to record interviews, I mostly relied on a small notebook and my go-to Sharpie pens, which is now half-full of scribbles from the past seven weeks of events and interactions. I thought that people would be put off by seeing me take notes on their every word.

Instead, I found that my notebook helped passers-by identify me as a reporter, that interviewees appreciated the analog system, and that it helped me maintain more eye contact and connection with the people I spoke to. 

I started my time at the Beacon with some reporting experience under my belt, but my interviews felt rigid. I laid out a set of questions to ask, I asked them, they answered. There was no room for my interviewees to choose what they thought was most important or worthy of reporting.

This summer, slowly but surely, my favorite interview question became “Can you show me around?” Through this question, I learned about Mickey Rounds’ barber pole in Mukilteo, R+M Desserts’ ruby clusters in Edmonds, and dachshund owner Kizzie Jones’ many careers.

It was an opportunity to walk around a space and discover the stories behind objects I would have never thought to ask about specifically. 

The best nuggets of information almost never came from the questions I prepared. When the interview turns into a true conversation, when the person you’re talking to chooses what’s important for you to know: That’s how you find the story-within-the-story that you’re chasing.

And you can’t get there without small talk. You need rapport, you need to develop openness, so that people want to share these stories with you; a prepared list of questions will never get you there. Good reporting, I think, is as personal as a chat between friends.

My generation has never lived in a world where in-person human connection was the default. I’m only two months older than the first iPhone; I’ve never experienced what it’s like to have no device in your pocket to fall back on. But I understand now that the most fulfilling experiences and conversations happen when you choose not to rely on that safety net.

For my fellow Gen Z-ers: It’s worth it to teach yourself small talk, even if it makes you uncomfortable. For those who are already small-talk experts, make the young adults in your life put their phones away and engage in conversation a little more often.

It’s always more than worthwhile to learn what other people care deeply about.

Lorelei Schwarz, from Edmonds, recently completed her internship at Beacon Publishing. She attends Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. This is the first of an occasional column on being a Gen Zer in today’s world.