Originally published March 2010
For good reasons, the policy community of Washington, DC is not in a very good mood. Health care reform still hangs. The unemployment numbers stink. Reaching a consensus on energy policy seems a long way off.
Perhaps most strikingly, our president has reached a real rough patch. A very liberal and Obama-supporting friend put it to me bluntly the other day: “I really don’t know what would be different today if we had elected McCain.” From this friend, the comment was a shocker.
But on a recent, quick trip to DC for a dinner event, I was surprised by something else: Can-do conversations in a coffee shop.
I had arrived in DC early and found a nook in Dupont Circle where I could pass the time. Settling in, ready to whip through Blackberry emails NYC-style, I began to overhear the conversation at a neighboring table (and no, this does not qualify as eavesdropping).
Two twenty-something guys were talking about their start-up. They discussed the concept, the pitch they had created for their upcoming road show across the country, and why they were enthused about future prospects. They got into the mechanics of their product and clearly knew the technology inside and out – it seemed to be a kind of data networking system (and no, I still wasn’t eavesdropping!)
What struck me was the ease and enthusiasm with which they rattled off their ideas – they made the system seem simple, functional and manageable. While they knew the going would be tough for awhile, that they would need to work hard and sell their concept with all their might, these guys were passionate. They were buzzing with possibility. They were young and idealistic (and unrealistic?)
But they also were willing to give their entrepreneurial dream a shot.
This particular table must have been oddly charmed, because as the start-up meeting ended and the entrepreneurs headed out, two other men sat down and began to converse.
They were think tank guys and started a broad discussion, commenting on their work, their theories, their future research, and how it all would interface with the news of the moment. They covered the buzzwords of the day and the reasons for despair – all pretty standard.
But they also discussed hope – and the confidence that their efforts, if positioned smartly, could help change things and move the ball forward in a positive direction. They were lit up by possibility, which was a very pleasant shift away from the scowls more pervasive of late. Their discussion actually put me in a much better mood.
My mood shifted later on in the evening, when the dinner conversation I observed suggested we really do have a long way to go to come to any sort of policy consensus on energy. The smart, talented and experienced people sharing their perspectives all sounded a similar note: They wished leaders in Washington would see the pressing need to get going on energy, but with numerous other fires to put out, they just did not know if our present leadership would be up to the task.
Yet as dinner was wrapping up, one of the dinner participants helped to bring my earlier tinge of optimism back to our table: she noted that her 15 year-old daughter had started a Facebook awareness campaign for energy conservation and was convinced that her efforts were having an impact.
She also told her mother she believed her generation really was capable of addressing some of the country’s major challenges through a revved-up dedication to making things right. Not too shabby for 15.
So with bad news front-and-center every day, here’s the good news: entrepreneurs, deep, committed thinkers, and bright, energetic young people still exist in this country. And they have hope for the future.
It’s time we started celebrating these positives, supporting them and reintegrating them into our national narrative. I think it would put us all in a much better mood.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
For the Next Generation of Leaders
Originally published January 2010
Each year, the sleepy ski town of Davos, Switzerland awakens in a hurry as business, political, academic and non-profit leaders gather from across the globe to deliberate on the health and prosperity of our world. I’m lucky to be taking in my second World Economic Forum annual meeting this year.
After a week of acrobatic maneuvers -- both physically (the sidewalks are sheets of ice) and mentally (talk about constantly "on": you learn just as much here by overhearing conversations in hotel lobbies and bars as you do from each of the sessions) -- I have pinned down several "WEF" highlights of special importance for young leaders, in particular.
First, this year's meeting has been energized by the sessions and conversations led by the WEF's "Young Global Leaders" (YGL). The YGL is "a unique, multistakeholder community of exceptional young leaders who share a commitment to shaping the global future." Each year, the WEF identifies 200-300 YGL who are becoming increasingly influential throughout the world, especially in their contribution of fresh values and innovative thinking to their area of expertise.
The YGL, led by a Steering Group directed by YGL H.K.H. Crown Prince Haakon of Norway, designed and staged several meeting sessions, many of them geared toward improving international cooperation and collaboration.
One of the most significant was entitled "Rethinking Business Ethics," which tackled the "shortcomings of simply teaching the analysis of ethical problems to prepare future business leaders for the paradoxes of the real world." A central component to the session was the “Global Business Oath” – a set of principles designed by a YGL task force similar to the Hippocratic Oath in medicine – encouraging business leaders to espouse a more ethical approach to profit-making. Thus far, over 200 leaders have taken the oath.
In a word, the YGL are making a difference. With access to mentors like Bill Clinton, Mohammad Yunus and Bill and Melinda Gates, combined with the will, drive and talent to reshape the world for the better, the YGL are a force to be reckoned with. Visit their new website at http://redesignourworld.com/.
Second, world leaders have put forward a number of ideas that, if acted upon, could reshape the global society young people will inherit. In his opening address, President Nicolas Sarkozy of France proposed a return to a more “moral” version of capitalism, one that strives to smooth the global economic imbalances at the root of the current crisis.
He also called for a “new Bretton Woods” and argued that “exchange rate instability and the under-valuation of certain currencies lead to unfair trade and competition,” as the official press release described. South Korean president Lee Myung-bak reinforced the importance of international coalitions and agreements, noting that the G20 must take a strong leadership stance in designing a global “exit strategy” to ease the world’s transition into a post-crisis existence.
Each of these comments laid the groundwork for further conversations on the challenging dynamics of creating international consensus while balancing the needs and desires of national constituencies. As South African finance minister, Trevor Manuel, noted, international leaders must be willing to let go of some measure of their perceived national power to create the consensus Davos proclaims as the only way the world will prosper – or even survive.
This bold statement brings me to a third point: “the spirit of Davos.” There is a lot of talk here about the sense of positive, healthy engagement with which all participants are expected to approach their time in the mountains. An open spirit of discourse and debate in fact is necessary to unite leaders with very different perspectives on the most pressing social, political and economic issues facing the world – even if only for 5 days.
But then you have to ask – if the spirit of Davos is understood, respected and cultivated during the WEF annual meeting each year, isn’t it a concept that can be expanded upon and spread as the go-to international culture by the world’s next generation of leaders?
Sure, I’m feeling a little extra optimistic after hearing Bill Clinton urge support for Haiti, spotting the CEOs of some of the world’s most dynamic corporations sharing a few words on the state of global business, and meeting several members of the very talented and charismatic YGL community.
Yet it would be a shame not to harness the sense of optimism that makes Davos the one-of-a-kind experience it has become for many across the world. We as young people should take serious note – and do something to spread the spirit of Davos well beyond the hills of Switzerland.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
Each year, the sleepy ski town of Davos, Switzerland awakens in a hurry as business, political, academic and non-profit leaders gather from across the globe to deliberate on the health and prosperity of our world. I’m lucky to be taking in my second World Economic Forum annual meeting this year.
After a week of acrobatic maneuvers -- both physically (the sidewalks are sheets of ice) and mentally (talk about constantly "on": you learn just as much here by overhearing conversations in hotel lobbies and bars as you do from each of the sessions) -- I have pinned down several "WEF" highlights of special importance for young leaders, in particular.
First, this year's meeting has been energized by the sessions and conversations led by the WEF's "Young Global Leaders" (YGL). The YGL is "a unique, multistakeholder community of exceptional young leaders who share a commitment to shaping the global future." Each year, the WEF identifies 200-300 YGL who are becoming increasingly influential throughout the world, especially in their contribution of fresh values and innovative thinking to their area of expertise.
The YGL, led by a Steering Group directed by YGL H.K.H. Crown Prince Haakon of Norway, designed and staged several meeting sessions, many of them geared toward improving international cooperation and collaboration.
One of the most significant was entitled "Rethinking Business Ethics," which tackled the "shortcomings of simply teaching the analysis of ethical problems to prepare future business leaders for the paradoxes of the real world." A central component to the session was the “Global Business Oath” – a set of principles designed by a YGL task force similar to the Hippocratic Oath in medicine – encouraging business leaders to espouse a more ethical approach to profit-making. Thus far, over 200 leaders have taken the oath.
In a word, the YGL are making a difference. With access to mentors like Bill Clinton, Mohammad Yunus and Bill and Melinda Gates, combined with the will, drive and talent to reshape the world for the better, the YGL are a force to be reckoned with. Visit their new website at http://redesignourworld.com/.
Second, world leaders have put forward a number of ideas that, if acted upon, could reshape the global society young people will inherit. In his opening address, President Nicolas Sarkozy of France proposed a return to a more “moral” version of capitalism, one that strives to smooth the global economic imbalances at the root of the current crisis.
He also called for a “new Bretton Woods” and argued that “exchange rate instability and the under-valuation of certain currencies lead to unfair trade and competition,” as the official press release described. South Korean president Lee Myung-bak reinforced the importance of international coalitions and agreements, noting that the G20 must take a strong leadership stance in designing a global “exit strategy” to ease the world’s transition into a post-crisis existence.
Each of these comments laid the groundwork for further conversations on the challenging dynamics of creating international consensus while balancing the needs and desires of national constituencies. As South African finance minister, Trevor Manuel, noted, international leaders must be willing to let go of some measure of their perceived national power to create the consensus Davos proclaims as the only way the world will prosper – or even survive.
This bold statement brings me to a third point: “the spirit of Davos.” There is a lot of talk here about the sense of positive, healthy engagement with which all participants are expected to approach their time in the mountains. An open spirit of discourse and debate in fact is necessary to unite leaders with very different perspectives on the most pressing social, political and economic issues facing the world – even if only for 5 days.
But then you have to ask – if the spirit of Davos is understood, respected and cultivated during the WEF annual meeting each year, isn’t it a concept that can be expanded upon and spread as the go-to international culture by the world’s next generation of leaders?
Sure, I’m feeling a little extra optimistic after hearing Bill Clinton urge support for Haiti, spotting the CEOs of some of the world’s most dynamic corporations sharing a few words on the state of global business, and meeting several members of the very talented and charismatic YGL community.
Yet it would be a shame not to harness the sense of optimism that makes Davos the one-of-a-kind experience it has become for many across the world. We as young people should take serious note – and do something to spread the spirit of Davos well beyond the hills of Switzerland.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
A New Generation of Giving
Originally published December 2009
There's nothing quite like the holiday season in the New York Metro Area. As a colleague of mine recently said, "That Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center will never get old" -- a sentiment I share, even as the sidewalk gridlock on Fifth Avenue reaches a level only exceeded by the Fairfield County corridor of I-95. I also have little doubt that people across all faith traditions have found similar symbols of joy to mark this unique time of year, as we seek to be festive, to give back and to prepare for the year ahead.
I have been thinking specifically about giving back. I always am struck throughout the month of December by the public outpouring of goodwill that flows from our homes, our schools and our religious centers. Whether volunteering at soup kitchens, donating warm clothing through coat drives, or acting as angels and sending gifts to needy families, our communities become proactive with generosity and volunteerism.
The “holiday spirit” seems to elevate our willingness to give and think beyond the confines of our daily life, and I’d like to believe we’re all the better for it.
I recently met a social entrepreneur – and a fellow member of the Millennial generation (roughly, all those born in the U.S. between 1980 and 2000) – who knows more than a thing or two about the power of harnessing the holiday spirit. The only difference for Daniel Kaufman is that his spirit extends 365 days a year. Daniel is the founder and motivating power behind the One Percent Foundation (www.onepercentfoundation.org), an organization dedicated to “creating a new generation of philanthropists.”
As the foundation’s website explains, “The One Percent Foundation is a non-profit organization committed to engaging young adults in philanthropy. The Foundation is a giving circle – a group of young adults who pool their funds and time to strengthen their communities, while at the same time increasing their understanding of and participation in philanthropy.” To do this, the Foundation asks each member of the Millennial generation to contribute one percent of our income each year to proactive and engaged philanthropic giving.
At first glance, this request could seem somewhat unreasonable, especially for young adults trying to get their feet off the ground. With bills to pay, a social life to cultivate and unexpected expenses popping up right and left, what Millennial could afford to cut a check for $300, or $500, or even $1,000 each year?
Daniel argues that all of us can, if we restructure our preconceptions and approach to giving. First, we need to view giving as a constant, something layered into our lives and not just appropriate for special times of year like the stretch from Thanksgiving to Christmas. Giving can become part of an enhanced civic-mindedness that raises all boats.
Second, we need to understand the financial element as not just money, but as an enabling force behind a much bolder level of commitment. In other words, the dollars and cents are the tools of support, but without a deeper investment of time, participation and goodwill, we are much less likely to create the “new generation of philanthropists” that Daniel’s organization envisions.
Third, we need to be practical. While it’s a tall order to hand over a large check at the end of the year, it’s not so taxing to break those hundreds of dollars into monthly checks delivered each month in support of causes that really mean something to us.
The way the One Percent Foundation activates this principle is by acting as a central donation hub, where members of the giving circle place their monthly donations. Then, as a community, all One Percent Foundation partners decide where the funds will be donated on a quarterly basis – meaning that the monies collected are significant enough to make a substantial difference.
To me, the One Percent Foundation, as it grows, could be quite revolutionary for the Millennial generation. Daniel tells me that if all Millennials in the U.S. – we are about 75 million strong – rose to the Foundation’s challenge, we could accrue a pool of over $8 billion in yearly donations in support of organizations that truly matter to us. While we’ve gotten pretty accustomed to throwing big numbers around in this country, $8 billion is hardly insignificant!
More than the money, though, is the One Percent Foundation mentality. What if we all espoused the value of giving in a thorough, committed manner and incorporated it into our daily lives? There are, of course, many people – Millennials and others – who do this and, in my view, are true role models. But what if we could reincorporate a wholehearted spirit of volunteerism, of generosity, of concern for those beyond ourselves into the basic value system of the current and future leaders of this country?
Like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, it’s an idea that, to me, will never get old.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
There's nothing quite like the holiday season in the New York Metro Area. As a colleague of mine recently said, "That Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center will never get old" -- a sentiment I share, even as the sidewalk gridlock on Fifth Avenue reaches a level only exceeded by the Fairfield County corridor of I-95. I also have little doubt that people across all faith traditions have found similar symbols of joy to mark this unique time of year, as we seek to be festive, to give back and to prepare for the year ahead.
I have been thinking specifically about giving back. I always am struck throughout the month of December by the public outpouring of goodwill that flows from our homes, our schools and our religious centers. Whether volunteering at soup kitchens, donating warm clothing through coat drives, or acting as angels and sending gifts to needy families, our communities become proactive with generosity and volunteerism.
The “holiday spirit” seems to elevate our willingness to give and think beyond the confines of our daily life, and I’d like to believe we’re all the better for it.
I recently met a social entrepreneur – and a fellow member of the Millennial generation (roughly, all those born in the U.S. between 1980 and 2000) – who knows more than a thing or two about the power of harnessing the holiday spirit. The only difference for Daniel Kaufman is that his spirit extends 365 days a year. Daniel is the founder and motivating power behind the One Percent Foundation (www.onepercentfoundation.org), an organization dedicated to “creating a new generation of philanthropists.”
As the foundation’s website explains, “The One Percent Foundation is a non-profit organization committed to engaging young adults in philanthropy. The Foundation is a giving circle – a group of young adults who pool their funds and time to strengthen their communities, while at the same time increasing their understanding of and participation in philanthropy.” To do this, the Foundation asks each member of the Millennial generation to contribute one percent of our income each year to proactive and engaged philanthropic giving.
At first glance, this request could seem somewhat unreasonable, especially for young adults trying to get their feet off the ground. With bills to pay, a social life to cultivate and unexpected expenses popping up right and left, what Millennial could afford to cut a check for $300, or $500, or even $1,000 each year?
Daniel argues that all of us can, if we restructure our preconceptions and approach to giving. First, we need to view giving as a constant, something layered into our lives and not just appropriate for special times of year like the stretch from Thanksgiving to Christmas. Giving can become part of an enhanced civic-mindedness that raises all boats.
Second, we need to understand the financial element as not just money, but as an enabling force behind a much bolder level of commitment. In other words, the dollars and cents are the tools of support, but without a deeper investment of time, participation and goodwill, we are much less likely to create the “new generation of philanthropists” that Daniel’s organization envisions.
Third, we need to be practical. While it’s a tall order to hand over a large check at the end of the year, it’s not so taxing to break those hundreds of dollars into monthly checks delivered each month in support of causes that really mean something to us.
The way the One Percent Foundation activates this principle is by acting as a central donation hub, where members of the giving circle place their monthly donations. Then, as a community, all One Percent Foundation partners decide where the funds will be donated on a quarterly basis – meaning that the monies collected are significant enough to make a substantial difference.
To me, the One Percent Foundation, as it grows, could be quite revolutionary for the Millennial generation. Daniel tells me that if all Millennials in the U.S. – we are about 75 million strong – rose to the Foundation’s challenge, we could accrue a pool of over $8 billion in yearly donations in support of organizations that truly matter to us. While we’ve gotten pretty accustomed to throwing big numbers around in this country, $8 billion is hardly insignificant!
More than the money, though, is the One Percent Foundation mentality. What if we all espoused the value of giving in a thorough, committed manner and incorporated it into our daily lives? There are, of course, many people – Millennials and others – who do this and, in my view, are true role models. But what if we could reincorporate a wholehearted spirit of volunteerism, of generosity, of concern for those beyond ourselves into the basic value system of the current and future leaders of this country?
Like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, it’s an idea that, to me, will never get old.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
Friday, November 13, 2009
The Millennial Take on "Work Hard, Play Hard"
Originally published November 2009.
There are very few experiences like Halloween weekend to drive home the pervasiveness of that age-old mantra, “work hard, play hard.” Halloween is the ultimate playtime for millions across the U.S., of all ages, backgrounds and costume preferences.
But it seems to drum up a special level of enthusiasm within young professional corporate culture (YPCC). We – the young professionals – must view it as one of those rare evenings where the “work hard” part of the saying escapes us entirely, so that playing is not only expected, but in many cases, condoned. It’s the moment to turn off yesterday’s responsibilities and worries, since what would Dorothy Gale or Marilyn Monroe know about a performance review or client deadline?
My Halloween experience this year got me thinking more deeply about YPCC’s thorough embrace of “work hard, play hard” as a way of life. I started to wonder whether this mentality always has been with young people; or if it’s actually a fairly new phenomenon, perhaps developing in tandem with the goal-driven, achievement oriented norms that many associate with the Millennial generation.
So I did some informal polling. I spoke with colleagues, friends and family across a number of different age groups, inquiring to what extent “work hard, play hard” could characterize their own experience and that of their generation more broadly. Here are some of their thoughts.
For my grandparents’ generation, “work hard, play hard” seems to mean little, if anything at all. At least for my own grandparents, “work hard” was the mantra, and that was that, especially as first-generation Italian-Americans. There certainly were enjoyable outings on which young people could embark, and if you were a young woman, they included a chaperone. But the underlying sense of escapism and tremendous exertion of social energy that drive the “play hard” part of today’s mentality simply were not factors.
With my parents’ generation – the Baby Boomers – there were mixed responses. “Work hard, play hard” certainly played a role in young peoples’ lives, especially at the collegiate level, even if not labeled that way. My mom recalls the drive to work the books up until the moment the party started, at which point, the party became the center of the universe. A colleague of hers notes that the “play hard” part was much more prevalent in his own experience, but that he had a number of friends who were into both work and play in a manner similar to many young people today.
But many of my Baby Boomer sources also noted that once they hit the workforce, the appropriateness of “work hard, play hard” seemed to dissipate. The party culture shifted and became less all encompassing, attitudinally speaking. Great nights out were still in the cards, but the social imperative to go “all out” with the same intensity as the college party scene became less inevitable. Not so with YPCC today, where this intensity in partying appears the norm.
Some theories for the difference between the Boomers and YPCCs include the prioritization of other key factors (marriage, family, etc.), the recognition that leaving college meant entering the “adult” world of “adult behavior” (e.g. fewer hardcore nights with “the boys” – Jim, Jack, José, the Captain), and less of a culture of diehard playing for serious workers to join at any given moment.
So how did we get to the “work hard, play hard” mode, which appeals to so many 20- and 30-somethings today? Clearly, the pieces were moving into place with the Baby Boomers. But between our parents’ and our own Millennial generation, a number of key developments seemed to occur to make “work hard, play hard” a defining piece of our experience:
The progressive trend towards extending youth. The New York Times recently ran an article claiming that 27 was the magic age when young people today decide they are ready to acknowledge their adulthood. I would argue that for young people in NYC and Fairfield County, the age is more like 31 or 32. There just is very little need to grow up; e.g. take on more responsibility than one’s own career and social life. So why not play hard to offset the hard work?
The increasing competition among peers. For many Millennials, the definition of “success” in a wildly competitive personal and professional landscape is to prove oneself skilled in every possible realm of life. To me, this appears to mean devoting intense efforts to both work and play. Today’s Renaissance Man (or Woman) has to be successful both at the office and in the social scene to really rise to the top.
The heightened accumulation of monetary resources at a young age. While this trend may be on the way out because of new economic constraints, the generations following the Baby Boomers have accrued disposable income at a young age at an unparalleled rate. With excess cash to burn, the incentive to play hard intensifies. Why else would the long, demanding work hours be worthwhile?
These are just three of a slew of theories on the “work hard, play hard dynamic.” If there is one word that emerges as the theme here, it is “intense.” We are an intense generation with intense goals and intense desires to have it all. Let’s just hope that the “all” in this context includes clear judgment; sound, moral values; and the ability to think beyond ourselves to make a difference with all the intense energy we bring to the table.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
There are very few experiences like Halloween weekend to drive home the pervasiveness of that age-old mantra, “work hard, play hard.” Halloween is the ultimate playtime for millions across the U.S., of all ages, backgrounds and costume preferences.
But it seems to drum up a special level of enthusiasm within young professional corporate culture (YPCC). We – the young professionals – must view it as one of those rare evenings where the “work hard” part of the saying escapes us entirely, so that playing is not only expected, but in many cases, condoned. It’s the moment to turn off yesterday’s responsibilities and worries, since what would Dorothy Gale or Marilyn Monroe know about a performance review or client deadline?
My Halloween experience this year got me thinking more deeply about YPCC’s thorough embrace of “work hard, play hard” as a way of life. I started to wonder whether this mentality always has been with young people; or if it’s actually a fairly new phenomenon, perhaps developing in tandem with the goal-driven, achievement oriented norms that many associate with the Millennial generation.
So I did some informal polling. I spoke with colleagues, friends and family across a number of different age groups, inquiring to what extent “work hard, play hard” could characterize their own experience and that of their generation more broadly. Here are some of their thoughts.
For my grandparents’ generation, “work hard, play hard” seems to mean little, if anything at all. At least for my own grandparents, “work hard” was the mantra, and that was that, especially as first-generation Italian-Americans. There certainly were enjoyable outings on which young people could embark, and if you were a young woman, they included a chaperone. But the underlying sense of escapism and tremendous exertion of social energy that drive the “play hard” part of today’s mentality simply were not factors.
With my parents’ generation – the Baby Boomers – there were mixed responses. “Work hard, play hard” certainly played a role in young peoples’ lives, especially at the collegiate level, even if not labeled that way. My mom recalls the drive to work the books up until the moment the party started, at which point, the party became the center of the universe. A colleague of hers notes that the “play hard” part was much more prevalent in his own experience, but that he had a number of friends who were into both work and play in a manner similar to many young people today.
But many of my Baby Boomer sources also noted that once they hit the workforce, the appropriateness of “work hard, play hard” seemed to dissipate. The party culture shifted and became less all encompassing, attitudinally speaking. Great nights out were still in the cards, but the social imperative to go “all out” with the same intensity as the college party scene became less inevitable. Not so with YPCC today, where this intensity in partying appears the norm.
Some theories for the difference between the Boomers and YPCCs include the prioritization of other key factors (marriage, family, etc.), the recognition that leaving college meant entering the “adult” world of “adult behavior” (e.g. fewer hardcore nights with “the boys” – Jim, Jack, José, the Captain), and less of a culture of diehard playing for serious workers to join at any given moment.
So how did we get to the “work hard, play hard” mode, which appeals to so many 20- and 30-somethings today? Clearly, the pieces were moving into place with the Baby Boomers. But between our parents’ and our own Millennial generation, a number of key developments seemed to occur to make “work hard, play hard” a defining piece of our experience:
The progressive trend towards extending youth. The New York Times recently ran an article claiming that 27 was the magic age when young people today decide they are ready to acknowledge their adulthood. I would argue that for young people in NYC and Fairfield County, the age is more like 31 or 32. There just is very little need to grow up; e.g. take on more responsibility than one’s own career and social life. So why not play hard to offset the hard work?
The increasing competition among peers. For many Millennials, the definition of “success” in a wildly competitive personal and professional landscape is to prove oneself skilled in every possible realm of life. To me, this appears to mean devoting intense efforts to both work and play. Today’s Renaissance Man (or Woman) has to be successful both at the office and in the social scene to really rise to the top.
The heightened accumulation of monetary resources at a young age. While this trend may be on the way out because of new economic constraints, the generations following the Baby Boomers have accrued disposable income at a young age at an unparalleled rate. With excess cash to burn, the incentive to play hard intensifies. Why else would the long, demanding work hours be worthwhile?
These are just three of a slew of theories on the “work hard, play hard dynamic.” If there is one word that emerges as the theme here, it is “intense.” We are an intense generation with intense goals and intense desires to have it all. Let’s just hope that the “all” in this context includes clear judgment; sound, moral values; and the ability to think beyond ourselves to make a difference with all the intense energy we bring to the table.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Staking a Claim to the Future
Originally published in October 2009.
On a recent Saturday morning, I got stuck on Amtrak – the Acela Express down to Washington, to be specific. This annoyance is not altogether surprising. Amtrak does not exactly have a reputation for being the most reliable transportation choice, despite its status as the only long-haul train service in the U.S.
(I can picture all the hard-nosed capitalists out there nodding their heads approvingly, silently noting the importance of a competitive marketplace. Good work, guys).
What was surprising, though, was that the 2-hour delay at Secaucus station had nothing to do with the train or the tracks. It was caused by an old bridge that got stuck open after a large and unexpected barge needed to pass through. The operators simply couldn’t figure out how to get the bridge down.
So while the mechanics and engineers were pulled from Saturday morning coffees (probably took a half-hour), the problem was diagnosed (another half-hour?) and the appropriate fixes were made (at least an hour), we sat and waited and scavenged the train’s supply of “emergency snack packs” – a considerate gesture on Amtrak’s part.
While this travel experience could have been many times worse, it did drive home several important points in a very personal way. First: It’s no joke that the physical infrastructure of this country is falling apart. It’s happening, and it’s happening fast. Second: The dearth of available and qualified engineers and skilled mechanics also is an issue that needs even more serious and strategic long-term thinking. Third: We have no idea how lucky we are as Americans to find it appropriate to complain so vocally over a measly 2-hour delay.
We know that infrastructure is a considerable problem for America. In fact, $144 billion of our $787 billion stimulus package has been earmarked to start addressing the challenges of crumbling bridges, inefficient roadways, and rusting train tracks.
This is a great start. But it will take time for these monies to be put to use, not to mention the critical question of whether the funding will be efficient and effective. This is important both for updating our ailing infrastructure and for creating the new jobs so necessary for the steady economic recovery the government has hoped to stimulate.
I’ve got to wonder how many more bridges will get stuck open, or fall apart hazardously – as was the case with the Mianus Bridge collapse of the 1980s, covered in-depth by this publication – before we get down to business. Considering the vast amount of train traffic over bridges in our neck of the woods, created by the combination of Amtrak and Metro-North, this is a critical question to ask.
I’ve also started to consider that roadways, bridges and tunnels are just the beginning. Our electrical grid, another key piece of the nation’s infrastructure, likely needs even more attention than the bridges that get stuck open. It won’t matter what kind of energy we’re using if we can’t transport it.
But back to the engineers and skilled mechanics.
In the context of the ongoing conversation on American competitiveness, the need for motivated individuals to fill these roles is mentioned consistently by the media, by corporations and by our governmental leaders.
Luckily, we can proudly say that the U.S. continues to be the land of educational opportunity. We have some of the best engineering programs in the world, and attending a technical or community college – physically or online – is a tangible possibility. The biggest project now is to jump-start broad public education about the real opportunities available to skilled mechanics and thoughtful engineers capable of supporting those economic sectors that continue to thrive – energy and health care, in particular.
Fixing bridges will be one thing. Manufacturing the synthetic knee and hip joints vital to supporting the health of our aging Baby Boom population is quite another. We need to start thinking about this sort of issue now in order to avoid a catastrophe equivalent to thousands to bridges stuck open – the kind that will emerge if we lack skilled technical workers in the sectors most important to the future of the U.S. economy.
But let’s step back for a minute. I tried to do this in Secaucus, while munching my free emergency snack pack, in order to really take in the pure luck of my situation. I had my BlackBerry, on which I googled the nearest rent-a-car. The train was air-conditioned, so I was comfortable. The cabin crew apologized politely, tens of times, for the trouble we were encountering.
There was tons of complaining, bemoaning the inconvenience and voicing grave disappointment over the whole situation among my fellow passengers. And maybe it was justified. But I strongly doubt that the same comfort, security, and surety that a solution would be found rings equally true in the majority of other nations across the world, especially for women embarking on travels solo.
I don’t know about you, but I intend on trying my darnedest to make sure that my daughter and granddaughter and great granddaughter can access a similar sense of perspective when it comes to valuing what America has to offer. The time is now for the next generation of this country’s leaders – yes US, twenty-something Americans – to take a stake in our future. Let’s start thinking and working for the long haul, even if it means grabbing an emergency snack pack and forging onwards.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
On a recent Saturday morning, I got stuck on Amtrak – the Acela Express down to Washington, to be specific. This annoyance is not altogether surprising. Amtrak does not exactly have a reputation for being the most reliable transportation choice, despite its status as the only long-haul train service in the U.S.
(I can picture all the hard-nosed capitalists out there nodding their heads approvingly, silently noting the importance of a competitive marketplace. Good work, guys).
What was surprising, though, was that the 2-hour delay at Secaucus station had nothing to do with the train or the tracks. It was caused by an old bridge that got stuck open after a large and unexpected barge needed to pass through. The operators simply couldn’t figure out how to get the bridge down.
So while the mechanics and engineers were pulled from Saturday morning coffees (probably took a half-hour), the problem was diagnosed (another half-hour?) and the appropriate fixes were made (at least an hour), we sat and waited and scavenged the train’s supply of “emergency snack packs” – a considerate gesture on Amtrak’s part.
While this travel experience could have been many times worse, it did drive home several important points in a very personal way. First: It’s no joke that the physical infrastructure of this country is falling apart. It’s happening, and it’s happening fast. Second: The dearth of available and qualified engineers and skilled mechanics also is an issue that needs even more serious and strategic long-term thinking. Third: We have no idea how lucky we are as Americans to find it appropriate to complain so vocally over a measly 2-hour delay.
We know that infrastructure is a considerable problem for America. In fact, $144 billion of our $787 billion stimulus package has been earmarked to start addressing the challenges of crumbling bridges, inefficient roadways, and rusting train tracks.
This is a great start. But it will take time for these monies to be put to use, not to mention the critical question of whether the funding will be efficient and effective. This is important both for updating our ailing infrastructure and for creating the new jobs so necessary for the steady economic recovery the government has hoped to stimulate.
I’ve got to wonder how many more bridges will get stuck open, or fall apart hazardously – as was the case with the Mianus Bridge collapse of the 1980s, covered in-depth by this publication – before we get down to business. Considering the vast amount of train traffic over bridges in our neck of the woods, created by the combination of Amtrak and Metro-North, this is a critical question to ask.
I’ve also started to consider that roadways, bridges and tunnels are just the beginning. Our electrical grid, another key piece of the nation’s infrastructure, likely needs even more attention than the bridges that get stuck open. It won’t matter what kind of energy we’re using if we can’t transport it.
But back to the engineers and skilled mechanics.
In the context of the ongoing conversation on American competitiveness, the need for motivated individuals to fill these roles is mentioned consistently by the media, by corporations and by our governmental leaders.
Luckily, we can proudly say that the U.S. continues to be the land of educational opportunity. We have some of the best engineering programs in the world, and attending a technical or community college – physically or online – is a tangible possibility. The biggest project now is to jump-start broad public education about the real opportunities available to skilled mechanics and thoughtful engineers capable of supporting those economic sectors that continue to thrive – energy and health care, in particular.
Fixing bridges will be one thing. Manufacturing the synthetic knee and hip joints vital to supporting the health of our aging Baby Boom population is quite another. We need to start thinking about this sort of issue now in order to avoid a catastrophe equivalent to thousands to bridges stuck open – the kind that will emerge if we lack skilled technical workers in the sectors most important to the future of the U.S. economy.
But let’s step back for a minute. I tried to do this in Secaucus, while munching my free emergency snack pack, in order to really take in the pure luck of my situation. I had my BlackBerry, on which I googled the nearest rent-a-car. The train was air-conditioned, so I was comfortable. The cabin crew apologized politely, tens of times, for the trouble we were encountering.
There was tons of complaining, bemoaning the inconvenience and voicing grave disappointment over the whole situation among my fellow passengers. And maybe it was justified. But I strongly doubt that the same comfort, security, and surety that a solution would be found rings equally true in the majority of other nations across the world, especially for women embarking on travels solo.
I don’t know about you, but I intend on trying my darnedest to make sure that my daughter and granddaughter and great granddaughter can access a similar sense of perspective when it comes to valuing what America has to offer. The time is now for the next generation of this country’s leaders – yes US, twenty-something Americans – to take a stake in our future. Let’s start thinking and working for the long haul, even if it means grabbing an emergency snack pack and forging onwards.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Still A Chance To Break The Inertia
Originally published August 2009.
I’ve identified the type of inertia that taints much of young professional corporate culture (YPCC) in New York City and Fairfield County: levels of complacency too extreme to allow choices to be made for reasons other than habit.
The routine, as I have observed it, for many in this YPCC set is clear. Wake up. Work – really hard, competitively, and for long hours. Go to bar X, Y, or Z, where, as one good friend recently said, “No matter where you go, it looks like there are 1,000 of the exact same person.” Drink. Copiously. Shout over noise/music. Check Blackberry continuously throughout the night as a “necessity” (i.e. nervous tick and ability to avoid social awkwardness). Sleep. Repeat.
There is a certain amount of fun to be had in being part of the “insider crowd” that is lucky enough to have the disposable income and personal network to be comfortable in this scene. And there’s no denying a great night out at a loud, raucous, suit-and-tie attired bar once in a while.
But this summer, quite simultaneously, many of my friends have said to me separately: It’s time to break the mold. In one way or another, each of them has decided that comfortable routines and social venues full of “Where’s Waldo-esque” figures may not be all they’re cracked up to be. Each of them – and I will include myself in this category – is searching for his or her slice of a more “unique New York.”
It’s one thing to think about this concept, mull it over, make plans; it’s a very different thing to actually motivate and accomplish something out of the ordinary. It requires drive, desire and the decision to take a bit of a risk – something all of us in the YPCC generation could use a hand with, I think. In a word, we all need to have a solid one-on-one with “chutzpah.”
And yet, I’m very pleased to report that many of my friends are succeeding in their quests to identify their personal versions of “unique New York.” One friend started a happy hour club dedicated to raising money for charities: she and her co-organizers felt that if drinking was going to be the norm, there must be some larger benefit from our cohort’s yen for the bar.
Deemed “EOTNHHFEB” (yes, that’s right, Every Other Thursday Night Happy Hour For Every Body), this group wants to bring together people from different walks of life to have a cocktail, support a charity (acronym charities like UNICEF are preferred), and actually talk to one another – very radical.
Another friend, a director and fellow Greenwich Academy grad, has joined with the Bryant Park Corporation – the caretakers of Bryant Park in NYC – to conceive a piece of theater called “Bryant in the Park.” The theater event is inspired by the poems of William Cullen Bryant, for whom the park is named, and will feature “a dozen members of the exclusive and imaginary Bryant Park Croquet Society, dressed in white, playing croquet on Bryant Park's main lawn,” as the listings describe. Unique, indeed.
On a more personal level, and to take this concept beyond young professional culture and the City, there’s my sister. At the beginning of the summer, she and her boyfriend developed “The List,” a long brainstorm of out-of-the-box ideas and activities that have come up in discussion but that no one has ever been motivated enough to attempt.
So every time my sister is at a loss for a summer activity, she and her friends turn to The List. Because of it, they have gone to various obscure concerts, given baths to several frisky pets, gone on nature walks through the woods of Fairfield and Weston, explored new parts of Fairfield County and NYC, and done any number of other activities that beat the urge to do nothing. Because, why not?
Now, with August upon us, there’s still time to take advantage of the spirit of openness and adventure that accompanies the summertime. Break the inertia, put down your Blackberry, and dare to make a choice beyond the ordinary. You never know where it may lead you.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
I’ve identified the type of inertia that taints much of young professional corporate culture (YPCC) in New York City and Fairfield County: levels of complacency too extreme to allow choices to be made for reasons other than habit.
The routine, as I have observed it, for many in this YPCC set is clear. Wake up. Work – really hard, competitively, and for long hours. Go to bar X, Y, or Z, where, as one good friend recently said, “No matter where you go, it looks like there are 1,000 of the exact same person.” Drink. Copiously. Shout over noise/music. Check Blackberry continuously throughout the night as a “necessity” (i.e. nervous tick and ability to avoid social awkwardness). Sleep. Repeat.
There is a certain amount of fun to be had in being part of the “insider crowd” that is lucky enough to have the disposable income and personal network to be comfortable in this scene. And there’s no denying a great night out at a loud, raucous, suit-and-tie attired bar once in a while.
But this summer, quite simultaneously, many of my friends have said to me separately: It’s time to break the mold. In one way or another, each of them has decided that comfortable routines and social venues full of “Where’s Waldo-esque” figures may not be all they’re cracked up to be. Each of them – and I will include myself in this category – is searching for his or her slice of a more “unique New York.”
It’s one thing to think about this concept, mull it over, make plans; it’s a very different thing to actually motivate and accomplish something out of the ordinary. It requires drive, desire and the decision to take a bit of a risk – something all of us in the YPCC generation could use a hand with, I think. In a word, we all need to have a solid one-on-one with “chutzpah.”
And yet, I’m very pleased to report that many of my friends are succeeding in their quests to identify their personal versions of “unique New York.” One friend started a happy hour club dedicated to raising money for charities: she and her co-organizers felt that if drinking was going to be the norm, there must be some larger benefit from our cohort’s yen for the bar.
Deemed “EOTNHHFEB” (yes, that’s right, Every Other Thursday Night Happy Hour For Every Body), this group wants to bring together people from different walks of life to have a cocktail, support a charity (acronym charities like UNICEF are preferred), and actually talk to one another – very radical.
Another friend, a director and fellow Greenwich Academy grad, has joined with the Bryant Park Corporation – the caretakers of Bryant Park in NYC – to conceive a piece of theater called “Bryant in the Park.” The theater event is inspired by the poems of William Cullen Bryant, for whom the park is named, and will feature “a dozen members of the exclusive and imaginary Bryant Park Croquet Society, dressed in white, playing croquet on Bryant Park's main lawn,” as the listings describe. Unique, indeed.
On a more personal level, and to take this concept beyond young professional culture and the City, there’s my sister. At the beginning of the summer, she and her boyfriend developed “The List,” a long brainstorm of out-of-the-box ideas and activities that have come up in discussion but that no one has ever been motivated enough to attempt.
So every time my sister is at a loss for a summer activity, she and her friends turn to The List. Because of it, they have gone to various obscure concerts, given baths to several frisky pets, gone on nature walks through the woods of Fairfield and Weston, explored new parts of Fairfield County and NYC, and done any number of other activities that beat the urge to do nothing. Because, why not?
Now, with August upon us, there’s still time to take advantage of the spirit of openness and adventure that accompanies the summertime. Break the inertia, put down your Blackberry, and dare to make a choice beyond the ordinary. You never know where it may lead you.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
In Defense of the Jersey Shore
Originally published in July 2009.
As Greenwich Time reporter, Neil Vigdor, chronicled in the series, “Breaking the Sound Barrier,” gaining access to Connecticut’s delightful shoreline rarely is an easy task. Greenwich is a case in point, with non-residents paying $5 for a daily pass and $20 for a daily parking pass.
Yet this actually is a great improvement over the pre-2001 era. Being a beach-lover, sun-worshipper, and non-Greenwich resident, I vividly remember the beach-access dispute during the spring of 2001 (not to mention that I was trying to get tan enough to look decent in my white Greenwich Academy graduation dress).
As tempers flared and the opposing parties dove down mind-numbingly into the knitty-gritty of the law, there is one aspect of the dispute I will never forget.
It’s a phrase that speckled each and every media story, becoming the go-to literary device to express the heart and soul of residents’ concerns: the terrible, awful, no good, very bad possibility of the “Jersification of Greenwich beaches.”
I remember laughing out loud when I read this tagline for the first time, trying to make some meaning out of the horror implied by the “Jersification” of a beach. In my mind, New Jersey beaches until that point in time only meant one thing – pure joy.
Our family has journeyed to The Shore, specifically, Point Pleasant and Normandy Beach, every summer since I can remember. And each summer our trek to “dirty Jersey” is the high point of the year, a respite of family, fun, boardwalks, salt water taffy, Atlantic Ocean and peace.
So what can be made of the major “diss” implied by “Jersification”? On a stereotypical level, this question is not a hard one to answer. There are those particular beaches in New Jersey where overcrowding is rampant, where bathing suits provide meager coverage at best, where English-speakers are in the minority, and where secret (or not so secret) coolers of alcohol abound.
Even beyond the beaches, the “Jersey Shore” seems to have accumulated multiple levels of negative association: “skeevy grease balls,” as a good friend deemed them, stuffed into overcrowded bars, strip malls lacking the all-important “cute” factor, and the honky-tonk crowd that populates boardwalks like Point Pleasant, Seaside Heights and Atlantic City.
But just as all of your preconceptions are being validated, let me share with you my own experience of the Jersey Shore.
Growing up, we would start each gloriously sunny “beach day” with a batch of famous Hoffman’s homemade donuts. Still hot out of the oven from Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman’s little bakery shop, we were regulars and they knew our order before we walked in the door.
Bellies happy, we’d journey to the beach: a sea of other families and new friends to be made. There, my cousins, friends and I learned the virtues of my parents’ “Go Play!” mentality. We built sandcastles, caught sand crabs, played “run the bases” and tag, caught waves with our boogie boards and – if our parents were in a really good mood – ran out to the street to grab a snow cone or other treat from the Ice Cream Man.
At the end of the day, exhausted, we’d go home for showers, dinner, and maybe a swing by the boardwalk for rides, games, and frolicking along a beach lit by the oh-so-New Jersey combination of fluorescent lights and stars.
Although I have no substantial points of reference other than hearsay and casual independent research, I would imagine that this series of events is not unlike the days kids spend on beaches in Greenwich, Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket or the Cape.
Since our family has transitioned to adulthood, our daily schedule of Shore activities has changed quite a bit. Now, we sit on the beach, enjoy a game of tennis, organize a pickup game of beach volleyball, or take a run along the sand until the sunshine fades and it’s time to join our neighbors for pre-dinner get-togethers staged during that gentle summer moment when day turns to night.
We will sit together laughing, reminiscing, enjoying crashing waves and watching little kids still full of energy scale the lifeguard stands laid to rest for the evening. We enjoy the camaraderie and the wash of memories that comes with so many summers spent “Down the Shore,” and then pack up our beach chairs, husk some corn, grill some burgers, and get ready to do it all over again tomorrow.
As some wise person said long ago, “Simplicity is bliss.”
You can call all of this blatant subjectivity or the rosy gloss of a childhood well-spent. But to this day, I simply cannot see anything horrendous or “dissable” about what I would define as “Jersification”: the variety of experiences and shades of happiness the Shore affords, even at its most stereotypical manifestations (read: Asbury Park).
There, I’ve said it. The truth is out. I am, despite all appearances, a hard-nosed opponent of the negative connotations connected with Jersification. I actually am a bit of a fan.
And while the Shore isn’t for everyone, I would urge you to do yourself a favor. Open up your iTunes, download some Bruce Springsteen, and let yourself fall in love with Jersey… or at least a Jersey Girl.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
As Greenwich Time reporter, Neil Vigdor, chronicled in the series, “Breaking the Sound Barrier,” gaining access to Connecticut’s delightful shoreline rarely is an easy task. Greenwich is a case in point, with non-residents paying $5 for a daily pass and $20 for a daily parking pass.
Yet this actually is a great improvement over the pre-2001 era. Being a beach-lover, sun-worshipper, and non-Greenwich resident, I vividly remember the beach-access dispute during the spring of 2001 (not to mention that I was trying to get tan enough to look decent in my white Greenwich Academy graduation dress).
As tempers flared and the opposing parties dove down mind-numbingly into the knitty-gritty of the law, there is one aspect of the dispute I will never forget.
It’s a phrase that speckled each and every media story, becoming the go-to literary device to express the heart and soul of residents’ concerns: the terrible, awful, no good, very bad possibility of the “Jersification of Greenwich beaches.”
I remember laughing out loud when I read this tagline for the first time, trying to make some meaning out of the horror implied by the “Jersification” of a beach. In my mind, New Jersey beaches until that point in time only meant one thing – pure joy.
Our family has journeyed to The Shore, specifically, Point Pleasant and Normandy Beach, every summer since I can remember. And each summer our trek to “dirty Jersey” is the high point of the year, a respite of family, fun, boardwalks, salt water taffy, Atlantic Ocean and peace.
So what can be made of the major “diss” implied by “Jersification”? On a stereotypical level, this question is not a hard one to answer. There are those particular beaches in New Jersey where overcrowding is rampant, where bathing suits provide meager coverage at best, where English-speakers are in the minority, and where secret (or not so secret) coolers of alcohol abound.
Even beyond the beaches, the “Jersey Shore” seems to have accumulated multiple levels of negative association: “skeevy grease balls,” as a good friend deemed them, stuffed into overcrowded bars, strip malls lacking the all-important “cute” factor, and the honky-tonk crowd that populates boardwalks like Point Pleasant, Seaside Heights and Atlantic City.
But just as all of your preconceptions are being validated, let me share with you my own experience of the Jersey Shore.
Growing up, we would start each gloriously sunny “beach day” with a batch of famous Hoffman’s homemade donuts. Still hot out of the oven from Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman’s little bakery shop, we were regulars and they knew our order before we walked in the door.
Bellies happy, we’d journey to the beach: a sea of other families and new friends to be made. There, my cousins, friends and I learned the virtues of my parents’ “Go Play!” mentality. We built sandcastles, caught sand crabs, played “run the bases” and tag, caught waves with our boogie boards and – if our parents were in a really good mood – ran out to the street to grab a snow cone or other treat from the Ice Cream Man.
At the end of the day, exhausted, we’d go home for showers, dinner, and maybe a swing by the boardwalk for rides, games, and frolicking along a beach lit by the oh-so-New Jersey combination of fluorescent lights and stars.
Although I have no substantial points of reference other than hearsay and casual independent research, I would imagine that this series of events is not unlike the days kids spend on beaches in Greenwich, Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket or the Cape.
Since our family has transitioned to adulthood, our daily schedule of Shore activities has changed quite a bit. Now, we sit on the beach, enjoy a game of tennis, organize a pickup game of beach volleyball, or take a run along the sand until the sunshine fades and it’s time to join our neighbors for pre-dinner get-togethers staged during that gentle summer moment when day turns to night.
We will sit together laughing, reminiscing, enjoying crashing waves and watching little kids still full of energy scale the lifeguard stands laid to rest for the evening. We enjoy the camaraderie and the wash of memories that comes with so many summers spent “Down the Shore,” and then pack up our beach chairs, husk some corn, grill some burgers, and get ready to do it all over again tomorrow.
As some wise person said long ago, “Simplicity is bliss.”
You can call all of this blatant subjectivity or the rosy gloss of a childhood well-spent. But to this day, I simply cannot see anything horrendous or “dissable” about what I would define as “Jersification”: the variety of experiences and shades of happiness the Shore affords, even at its most stereotypical manifestations (read: Asbury Park).
There, I’ve said it. The truth is out. I am, despite all appearances, a hard-nosed opponent of the negative connotations connected with Jersification. I actually am a bit of a fan.
And while the Shore isn’t for everyone, I would urge you to do yourself a favor. Open up your iTunes, download some Bruce Springsteen, and let yourself fall in love with Jersey… or at least a Jersey Girl.
Christina Ciocca grew up in Darien and graduated from Greenwich Academy. She works in communications and public relations at The Dilenschneider Group in New York City.
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