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So this "ask me five questions"/"I ask you five questions" thing is going around again.
Questions are matters of tremendous fraughtness.
The thing is, they are always matters of territorial negotiation: the person asking is stepping into the territory of the askee to solicit something from deeper into that territory. Because of how fundamental my territorial sense is to how I function, this is a matter that requires a great deal of sniffing at pissed-on rocks before embarking on it.
For whatever reason, I am rendered very uncomfortable by questions that aren't answered. I think partly it was in my upbringing that a failure to answer a question is rude. Certainly that's a certain chunk of my reactions to the thing.
I think a big chunk of it is, though, this sense of territory, this sitting on the border waiting for a response, waiting to find out whether or not passage is permitted. If I ask and get no answer, I'm cast into a state of doubt: have I transgressed? Is the boundary not where I thought it was? Was I heard at all? If I don't answer, I have this sense of boundary-prodding that goes unresolved, this feeling that there's some sort of intrusion. I can pretend it isn't there (ignoring the question) in the hope that the invader will withdraw, or I can make it clear whether or not they are permitted to cross that boundary. I much prefer the latter.
If I am unable for whatever reason to answer the question, I wind up frustrated, unable to define the terms of my boundary. This is part of why I tend to snap at exceedingly general questions; they don't have enough of a handle on them for me to answer them effectively or, often, figure out what sort of answer will resolve the question -- and hence the boundary situation -- at all. Badly put questions tend to bring out my literalistic tendencies in full force -- I realised recently that an entirely optional questionnaire (which has no boundary issues much at all) was pushing these buttons, and doing so in a way that came out very hostile. I wound up writing to the person who posed the questions asking if I could have better ones.
One of the things I tend to do when I'm helping someone with a problem is say something to the effect of, "Please feel free to ask questions about these things", often with a chunk of information that makes it easier to generate questions that I would consider sound (enough information to work with and avoid horrible overgeneralities, generally). One of the major reasons behind this is to grant permission to cross the boundary, so I don't tense up at the fact that the boundary has been crossed. "This person has been granted permission to enter into the state of asking me about this."
Questions are also a sort of marker of territorial intimacy for me. Because I perceive a certain amount of pressure to answer questions under all circumstances, my intimacy boundaries are processed through the type and amount of information I give in response to questions. Because my basic feeling is that it is the obligation of the questioner to not be overly invasive in asking questions, I tend to respond to questions I feel do not meet that level of courtesy with minimalistic, short, and somewhat curt answers. (To alt.poly folks: yup, this would be indirect communication. :P )
More indirect communication notes: If I am feeling capable of answering questions on something at a particular point, I am likely to put out enough information that most questions are irrelevant. Part of this is an attempt to reduce the possibility of questions that will annoy me, but part of it is so that there will be interesting questions. It is a touch on the ironic side that my thought-systems really need a goodly amount of outside interactions to function, which includes the receipt of questions, given how touchy I am about questions in general.
So we get to the interview thing.
This is ridiculously fraught.
First of all, just the fact that it's dealing with questions is a bit freaky. Then there's the fact that there is obligation to answer (which I take as an obligation to answer informatively) and at least some construed obligation to ask more questions. The one precludes the sort of short answers I would give to a question I perceive as out of line; the latter puts me in a position of obligation to a behaviour I find potentially invasive. And it's granting some sort of blanket permission to ask, without context either on what is being asked about or who has it, which basically has the same psychological feel as dropping all my boundaries and shields and inviting anyone in who might fancy dropping by.
And the funny thing is that I would like people to ask me about things they're curious about, at some levels, or give me the sort of questions that will build me more and better answers. But that sort of wide-open defenseless state, that throwing open the throat, is beyond my tolerance.
So I wind up not asking people to ask me questions, and then thinking that I really ought to write some sort of explanation of why it's complicated. And now I've done that.
That being written at last, I'm going to go see if ritual/making kala/pills will make me stop feeling panicky and possibly even induce a cessation of twitching. (This is unrelated to the above entry entirely.)
Questions are matters of tremendous fraughtness.
The thing is, they are always matters of territorial negotiation: the person asking is stepping into the territory of the askee to solicit something from deeper into that territory. Because of how fundamental my territorial sense is to how I function, this is a matter that requires a great deal of sniffing at pissed-on rocks before embarking on it.
For whatever reason, I am rendered very uncomfortable by questions that aren't answered. I think partly it was in my upbringing that a failure to answer a question is rude. Certainly that's a certain chunk of my reactions to the thing.
I think a big chunk of it is, though, this sense of territory, this sitting on the border waiting for a response, waiting to find out whether or not passage is permitted. If I ask and get no answer, I'm cast into a state of doubt: have I transgressed? Is the boundary not where I thought it was? Was I heard at all? If I don't answer, I have this sense of boundary-prodding that goes unresolved, this feeling that there's some sort of intrusion. I can pretend it isn't there (ignoring the question) in the hope that the invader will withdraw, or I can make it clear whether or not they are permitted to cross that boundary. I much prefer the latter.
If I am unable for whatever reason to answer the question, I wind up frustrated, unable to define the terms of my boundary. This is part of why I tend to snap at exceedingly general questions; they don't have enough of a handle on them for me to answer them effectively or, often, figure out what sort of answer will resolve the question -- and hence the boundary situation -- at all. Badly put questions tend to bring out my literalistic tendencies in full force -- I realised recently that an entirely optional questionnaire (which has no boundary issues much at all) was pushing these buttons, and doing so in a way that came out very hostile. I wound up writing to the person who posed the questions asking if I could have better ones.
One of the things I tend to do when I'm helping someone with a problem is say something to the effect of, "Please feel free to ask questions about these things", often with a chunk of information that makes it easier to generate questions that I would consider sound (enough information to work with and avoid horrible overgeneralities, generally). One of the major reasons behind this is to grant permission to cross the boundary, so I don't tense up at the fact that the boundary has been crossed. "This person has been granted permission to enter into the state of asking me about this."
Questions are also a sort of marker of territorial intimacy for me. Because I perceive a certain amount of pressure to answer questions under all circumstances, my intimacy boundaries are processed through the type and amount of information I give in response to questions. Because my basic feeling is that it is the obligation of the questioner to not be overly invasive in asking questions, I tend to respond to questions I feel do not meet that level of courtesy with minimalistic, short, and somewhat curt answers. (To alt.poly folks: yup, this would be indirect communication. :P )
More indirect communication notes: If I am feeling capable of answering questions on something at a particular point, I am likely to put out enough information that most questions are irrelevant. Part of this is an attempt to reduce the possibility of questions that will annoy me, but part of it is so that there will be interesting questions. It is a touch on the ironic side that my thought-systems really need a goodly amount of outside interactions to function, which includes the receipt of questions, given how touchy I am about questions in general.
So we get to the interview thing.
This is ridiculously fraught.
First of all, just the fact that it's dealing with questions is a bit freaky. Then there's the fact that there is obligation to answer (which I take as an obligation to answer informatively) and at least some construed obligation to ask more questions. The one precludes the sort of short answers I would give to a question I perceive as out of line; the latter puts me in a position of obligation to a behaviour I find potentially invasive. And it's granting some sort of blanket permission to ask, without context either on what is being asked about or who has it, which basically has the same psychological feel as dropping all my boundaries and shields and inviting anyone in who might fancy dropping by.
And the funny thing is that I would like people to ask me about things they're curious about, at some levels, or give me the sort of questions that will build me more and better answers. But that sort of wide-open defenseless state, that throwing open the throat, is beyond my tolerance.
So I wind up not asking people to ask me questions, and then thinking that I really ought to write some sort of explanation of why it's complicated. And now I've done that.
That being written at last, I'm going to go see if ritual/making kala/pills will make me stop feeling panicky and possibly even induce a cessation of twitching. (This is unrelated to the above entry entirely.)
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I almost phrased my suggestion as a question, but caught myself just in time. *)
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Asking questions that force thought is more difficult. More fun, too, but time-consuming. I've been trying to hit that balance point where the questions can be accurately answered in either a single sentence or a two-page essay, whichever comes to mind.
I'm having great fun with the questions game. Normally, I don't play these; I don't like having to invent questions. My sense of creativity won't let me repeat them from person to person; so far, every question has been unique, although I've asked a couple of very similar ones of different people.
Weird, deep secret about soul-baring: Nobody will ask the stuff that really scares you. Nobody's *willing* to ask those questions. Hell, nobody's willing to ask favorite sexual positions, much less the stuff that actually matters. It's TMI. They want entertainment, and maybe some thought-provoking insights; they don't want to push you over the edge into the screaming willies.
And if they do hit close to those deep-scary-far-too-personal topics, it's an exercise in communication skills to dodge them: to give an answer that's publicly (or f'lockedly) acceptable that doesn't clash with your own honesty ethics (remember, if it's really to much, you can pick a character and answer in her voice) and doesn't leave you feeling too open, too vulnerable.
Sidenote: some people are claiming the asking has a limitation: only the first five requests get interviewed. But that may be "five per set of answers you post."
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Unless, of course, they do it by accident. I have some stuff that I feel is very personal for various reasons, but which other people would probably find quite banal.
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Yes. I feel something like this too, although not generally in the case of meme-type questions, which are sort of on a more superficial level...
--side rambling about me and questions, instead of you and questions--
[On the people asking me questions and my not answering them - I've been forgetful or flakey with answering memetype questions for a long time [see: more superficial], which makes me feel a little guilty every once in a while but really not much more than that. If I'm not answering because it will make me uncomfortable, I generally try to actually say that, so the person knows what's going on. Otherwise, they can pretty much assume that I've forgotten and poke me once or twice if they really want me to answer (which could possibly get me to the point of realizing that I'd forgotten to answer because I really didn't want to, but in any case, my not answering is 99% of the time about -me-, not about the questioner).)
Arbitrary or random questions can make me a little anxious in general - and this includes LARP questionnaires, which is one of the reason why I almost always procrastinate and turn in my apps at the last second. :( They're just so open-ended or so random at some points that I can't even figure out where to start or if I manage that, where to end. Not to mention that a number of the more standard questions, like what do I see myself doing in 10 years or if I could talk to a famous person, who would that be and why, can be really hard for me to answer (the first in specific can throw me into a panic attack if I don't push it to the side so I don't have to think about it).]
--end ramble--
Maybe it would be better if there weren't an implied obligation to answer the questions, or at least -all- of the questions (something like: choose 3 of these questions to answer, or if you don't like any of them, substitute a random unrelated answer of your choice, such as "I want a pony"). From what you're saying, it does not sound at all like you would be comfortable or willing to do this randomly, but if it were part of the rules of the meme, maybe that would help...or otherwise, just not becoming involved in it (which is what I'm doing), is another way. Although that of course doesn't change dealing with questions in general.
I actually found this really useful to know, so thank you very much for sharing it.
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And it's an interesting read. Thanks for sharing! :)
(I'm guessing you've already noted this, but JIC not: some people do answer questions from the interview meme with "I'm afraid that's private", "Sorry", or "Not telling!" I do understand the don't-want-to-do-that urge, though.)
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A large chunk of why I don't like answering random questions, especially in re: this meme, is that I don't like feeling obligated - I have a knee-jerk negative response to feeling pressured to perform, in any way. And yes, being asked random questions is going to get into some areas that are way too complicated to explain quickly, so I can either put far more work into answering a toss-off, probably barely thought out question than it deserves, or I can give a non-answer ("I decline to comment.") which then feels like cheating, or I can ignore the question, and feel it looming over me pretty much forever (or as long as I remember it). Most of the time, questions are fine; soliciting random questions... I don't know, I don't need an excuse to write about myself, or whatever is on my mind. And so many people, even/especially on my friends list, have these crazy-ass assumptions and ideas about my life - I'm very uncomfortable with opening the floodgates to some of the dialogues I know could result, like the "Poly is EEEBIL!" one, or the "what's this furry thing you have?" one.
Coming up with questions is worse. I have over four hundred people on my friends list; to be honest, I don't read the vast majority of them, I just filter them away. I don't want to ask a question that has already been asked and answered (or asked and declined to answer), I don't want to ask the same question I've asked any/everybody else, and I want to ask a question that the person would be interested in responding to, something about their life specifically, rather than something general like "What's your favorite color?" And I quite simply can't do that for the vast majority of people on my list. Even the people that I read regularly... trying to come up with something to ask on demand, well, for one thing, there's that knee-jerk anti-obligation reflex. But, for instance, trying to come up with a question to ask you... I feel like I already know everything I need to know, and more importantly, everything you want me to know about you. I couldn't think of anything to ask that wouldn't be trivial.
But now, I really am curious... how many toes do you have? ;)
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Hah. You have discovered the secret to my question-avoidance protocols.
(Seriously.)
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"Nova Scotia."
"How tall is the Washington Monument?"
"Chartreuse."
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(technically true even without the additional cat)
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(I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy
I see by your outfit that you're a cowboy too
We see by our outfits that we are both cowboys
If you get an outfit you can be a cowboy too!)
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I think I see two basic classifications of questions, the casual and informational. Along with this comes the intimate questioner and the random questioner. (there's also clauses of private information, but that makes things much more complex and on average an casual questioner digging for it is immediately shut out) I have to deal with continual barrages of questions all the time, many of which I don't want to answer, many of which I can't, all of which need to be faced with some kind of semi-polite response (public support role for work, so I'm the person people automatically get used to asking everything).
I understand the territorial concept, but for random non-intimates I could never live with having to treat any of their questions like that. I'm continually surrounded by questions and mostly they just don't matter. Obviously they create stress (or else my life wouldn't be nearly so stressful), but these are mostly the informatives. Casual random questions (how are you?) usually (like almost everyone else) gloss over with stock answers without really thinking about them. Most casual people who ask don't really want to know how I am. Sometimes though, on the odd creative stress period I'll tell them in detail. Usually they learn after that that the casual "polite" random questions are mostly just annoying.
Casual Informative questions are different. I'm so often in a position where forced to answer them that I'm mostly used to it. However, "I don't know, I'll get back to you" has to develop into a valid answer. There's also an entire class of questions where a casual requester just doesn't have the right to any information on the subject. Usually deflected or if persistent flat refusal followed by extreme annoyance. It usually takes rather a lot to get there though but when it does it's to defense mode - leave situation or attack (such as random NJ gas station attendant, where thankfully the rational voice held out and reminded me that grabbing his wrist and then speeding off down the highway probably wasn't a good idea even though telling him to go away wasn't working).
Dealing with Intimate questioners becomes more obligatory, but there's still certain realms of refusal, based on the "not now" or "not in presence of X" or "not enough information for a valid answer, need time to think". One of my issues (that I also succumb to sometimes) with this is when "I don't know" is used to deflect a question (either to buy time or as a refusal). There are always certain things that people just don't know (or haven't processed into answerable form, etc), so keeping that as a valid answer and not a deflection is important.
Personally I'm of the opinion that society places too much value on the speed of an answer in opposition to its relevance or thoughtfulness. I'd rather it be inversed in most cases, as long as I knew that the question had been acknowledged and would be dealt with eventually.
For whatever reason, I am rendered very uncomfortable by questions that aren't answered. I think partly it was in my upbringing that a failure to answer a question is rude.
This I understand (unanswered questions annoy me, though I've found that can be decreased if I know why something can't be or isn't answered, or knowing that a better answer can come later.
I could probably go on replying to segments of this, but I think it's mostly just rambling beyond this... The territorial boundary thing all makes sense but is completely different than my normal paradigm (usually not resolved on the subject of questions since I don't really see a hard boundary on questions. It's very circumstantial and blurred).
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"I don't know" can also be a defense mechanism, either meaning "I know but I'm afraid to answer" or "I know but I can't put it into words right now" (besides just straight not knowing). --> person who is trying not to use that phrase as defense quite as much, or at least differentiate better when using it.
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Dad's is "Nova Scotia".
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