I think about such things every day, among other reasons because I traffic in relationships, professionally and personally.  I speak to strangers all the time. During the year, I live in five different homes (counting my same-time-next-year rental in a summer community). I need consequential strangers to live the way I do–often, far away from my most beloved family members and friends.

Thus, even before I researched and discovered the term “consequential strangers” for the book of the same name, I knew enough to launch an “acquaintanceship campaign” when I moved to Massachusetts from Manhattan.  I needed the kind of people I’d left behind who had punctuated my day–the butcher, the neighbor, the doorman, the familiar waitress, the assorted lesser friends I’d see at brunch but would never invite for a weekend sleepover once I moved. In those days, I wasn’t on “the net,” and social media sites were not even on the horizon.I’m good at making acquaintances. But nothing in my social imagination could have prepared me for the impact of Facebook. Since I joined in 2006, my social convoy–the cavalcade of people I meet moving through life–has grown in size and diversity. It’s not that I talk to all of these so-called friends everyday–indeed, most are people not close to me. But when I have the time, I enjoy viewing their photos, exploring links they recommend, and reading their 160-character revelations.  I’m “fed” by our occasional exchanges.

What is more, when I post an idea or comment on another person’s, it is often broadcast to my CS-by-association:  Not pure strangers, and not quite consequential strangers, they’re the friends of friends, and their friends, and they extend out to the infinite edges of the social universe. I know little to nothing about them.  But we’re connected, and suddenly, we’re all talking to one another. What we know and think about and feel becomes more important than who we actually are, how we dress, how much money we make, whom we vote for, or what kind of music we like.

Recently, I posted a link to a fellow writer and psychologist Mindy Greenstein’s sweet essay about losing her dog. It was the kind of post that hits a universal chord. The comments–some from CS-by-association, some from people I actually know–soon began to pour in. The conversation kept shifting–first, about grief, then onto how special dogs are, and now it’s morphing into a “do-we-get-another-one?” discussion.

Insignificant? Maybe, but life is made of such exchanges. And who cares whether a stranger gets a new dog? We do. We’ve always loved other people’s stories. It’s how we gauge our own. The media–print, radio, TV–have always brought us into others’ lives.  Facebook is the Internet incarnation through which we access stories.  But it cuts out the middleman. We hear from others directly.

What you think is important may not be as meaningful to me, but I am nevertheless enriched by learning what you think, how you live, how you deal with and solve problems. It might change my mind completely, or perhaps just open it a crack. Or, it might not affect me at all. Regardless, your thoughts become part of mine. Each conversation, however brief, and even on line, changes us.

Those who aren’t on Facebook, as well as those who are ambivalent about it, fear the lack of privacy, the possibility of hacking, the hucksters. Those are legitimate concerns. We all need to be cautious and, more important, to develop what Howard Rheingold calls “21st century literacies.”

Elsewhere, I’ve likened Facebook to a big cocktail party at which everyone is privvy to everything you say. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. But it’s a choice. I could be “on Facebook” and not reveal much about myself, or I could document every moment of my life. I’m somewhere in the middle. Initially, as I’ve admitted in another piece, I was in it for the hype: I saw Facebook as a way of getting people interested in my book. Now, although I still love it when people write to me about my writing, the reason I check my Facebook page most days is the feeling of being connected. I like being able to ask “my” world a question or share an insight. I like feeling that people care.

Why else would I have uploaded that photo of my chicken soup?

Pay attention to the small moments. Life is an ongoing series of casual, everyday interactions that add up.   You don’t hear the sound of strings swelling in the background when something important is about to happen.  So if you don’t pay attention, you might miss moments that matter.  A brief talk in the hallway, an email from a former colleague, a Facebook response to a comment, a few minutes spent helping someone else–each conversation results in a bit of information, insight, clarity, a feeling of being connected, or a good laugh.  And the more you notice them, the more you make them happen.

Celebrate diversity. An odd by-product of political correctness is that although it supposedly eradicates offensive language related to gender, race, religion, sexuality, and the like, it can also limit the celebration of differences.  A community collage classroom, for example, is a rich font of diversity, and everyone–the taxi cab driver, the single mother, the house painter–brings something different to the table–and to each other’s lives.  Different perspectives enrich us.  That’s why the Occupation Test, has a range of jobs, up and down the socio-economic ladder.  As sociologist Bonnie Erickson, having a diverse social convoy is “like enrolling in a liberal arts college and getting a degree in a little of almost everything.”

Use relationships, not rewards, to motivate. Actually, relationships are the best reward. In the classroom, in the workplace, at home, or any setting where people are expected to cooperate and contribute, the goal is to join with instead of laud over, to position yourself at the center, rather than rule from on high.  Read this post by Howard Rheingold in which he talks about dealing with students’ divided attention in the classroom by heightening their awareness and asking them to participate with him.  Smart corporate managers take a similar approach with their workers.  For that matter, so do smart parents!  A relationally-engaged person is a partner and an ally.   (I talked about the dangers of not engaging in How GM Lost Touch With Its CS.)

Today, the ability to communicate, share, and be open to others’ ideas are essential.  To think of these as “soft skills” is dismissive.   Every decision we make, every piece of information we acquire, every insight, every project that needs completion involves interactions with others–face-to-face and/or online.  We are all in it together.

Important Note:  Howard Rheingold has developed the  Social Media Classroom and Collaboratory,  a free online resource for students and teachers.  Arguably, we all need to explore what he considers the five key “Internet literacies”: attention, participation, collaboration, network awareness, and crap detection!  It’s worth a look.

Learn from people who’ve been there. It’s hard to believe but social network media dates back only a few years.  And before we had the software to allow us to be in touch with our convoys, there were internet communities and other precursors of what is now exploding on the Internet.  Here are some of the people/sites that have given me the best understanding of what it’s all about.  Start with Nancy White’s excellent blog, “How I Use Social Media.”  It’s one woman’s journey, but Nancy has been there from the beginning.   I’ve also found Pete Cashmore’s Mashable an invaluable resource for understanding what various social network sites are best for and how individuals and companies are using them.  Best of all, the site speaks to beginners as well as veterans of the net. I’d also suggest reading anything by Barry Wellman or Howard Rheingold.   They’ve both been looking at internet communities for decades; reading their papers and blogs is like getting a crash course in how we got here.  If you have any favorite people or sites, please include them in your comments.

Spend social currency not money. If you’re still uneasy about the new media, you might be tempted to hire one of the so-called experts out there–you’ll come across many of them.  Their blogs and tweets promise to teach you “how.”  And perhaps some of them can help, but it’s important to remember that no one knows “the best way” (or even the five best ways) to reach out to your people.  So why not begin by spending social energy rather than money? It might sound kind of old-school and not very flashy, but the best idea might be to just get out there yourself, find a slice of common ground, and connect–one consequential stranger a time.