Are you tweeting?

Recently, I’ve had lots of conversations about social media with my non-technology friends. Everything from the ins and outs of Facebook to the purpose of Twitter is being discussed over casuals dinners, at the kids’ soccer games, at the bus stop, and even in the grocery store. This tells me two things.

First, social media has finally arrived. Technophites have claimed for years we were in the “age of social media,” but when my 50-something mom gets a Facebook account, I can finally agree. Enough said.
Second, social media works. No matter how my non-technical sister makes fun of me for using Twitter and updating my status on Facebook, the point is this: she’s listening, and she’s not alone.

Twitter (and the status line on Facebook, which is very similar in concept) is the ultimate in fly-on-the-wall communication. (If you’re not familiar with Twitter, read more here.) You answer the question “what are you doing” in 140 characters are less, and that message (called a “tweet”) is sent to anyone who is “following” your updates.

Many people ask why I tweet. My answer comes from a basic human need for communication. I work from home, without the benefit of annoying co-workers to interact with all day. While I don’t miss the annoying part, I do miss the human contact. I follow the Twitter updates of many designers in the Baltimore/DC area and absolutely love the feeling of being a part of a bigger design team that this provides.

On Facebook, I enjoy keeping in touch with friends, both old and new. Both Facebook and Twitter allow me to participate in a large community of folks… (here’s the beauty of it) when I want to. I can simply sit back and watch the chatter, or I can dive in and comment. It’s like sitting on a couch at a party where everyone is standing and chatting in the middle of the room — you can stand and join in when you want, or just watch if you prefer. But all along, you still get to feel as if you are surrounded by lots of chaotic activity. It’s a wonderful balance for someone like me — someone who feeds off other peoples’ energy, but needs the alone time to produce.