I heard on the news the other night that most "Black Friday" shoppers were buying items for themselves, not for others (at least in my local news area). While I question the accuracy of this kind of "statistic" (as well as the validity of the news reporting), it doesn't surprise me. It saddens me though. In the documentary film "What Would Jesus Buy?" (Google it if you're interested), there was this quote: "We used to be a nation of producers; now we're a nation of consumers . . . . a shopping-addicted country." This is not something to be proud of; this is NOT progress. More to the point regarding Black Friday--since, supposedly, the shopping is in preparation for Christmas--this is NOT what Christmas is about!
Although I loved the excitement of Christmas as a kid and started compiling 20-page wish lists for Santa earlier than I'd now like to admit, I never expected to get anything on my lists (and I usually didn't!). It didn't matter what I got for Christmas. It was the excitement of the holidays and spending time with family and extended family that I relished in. In fact, one of my most memorable presents was when I was five years old and my oldest brother sneaked into my room and took my favorite stuffed animal, wrapped it up, and gave it to me. (This prank actually turned into a running joke, and, for many years--even when I was in college!--we gifted the stuffed animal back and forth to each other: I'd give it to him on his birthday, and I'd get it back at Christmas.) Every year, then, I delighted in receiving something that I'd already had for years; I was delighting in the moment--the connection with my brother--and NOT in the item itself. When kids (and all people) start delighting only in the items themselves, as seems to be the case for much of America (evidenced by the Black Friday tramplings, stabbings, shootings, and spittings over waffle-makers and flat-screen TVs), there's something seriously wrong...
...Not to mention that, by shopping at chain retailers, your money is going into the wrong people's pockets and, thus, you are supporting a corrupt and unjust system. So, if you shop, SHOP LOCAL and INDEPENDENT stores, and support the people who deserve it!
That said, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! :-)
Showing posts with label marketing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marketing. Show all posts
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Think About Marketing Images
There's nothing quite like sitting around on a Sunday and reading a bunch of sociology articles/blog posts to get a person all worked up about the state of our society. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who notices what's going on in the world of marketing and consumerism; and, on one hand, it was refreshing to read sentiments that echo my own, to know that I'm, indeed, not alone in my thoughts. On the other hand, though, it is incredibly frustrating to realize how many people passively accept these marketing tacks, particularly the ones that objectify women.
All it is is marketing; and, if you buy into it, you're supporting it: You're supporting the objectification of women. I don't care about Miley Cyrus. I don't care about twerking. I'm dumbfounded by the people who try to create controversy out of what she does. IT'S MARKETING! Let her do what she does. IGNORE HER. If you talk about it, even against it, you're supporting it. That's what "they" want. (Now, forget you read that because I don't want to be a part of the segment of the population who contributes to her popularity, both negative and positive.)
And while I'm ranting here.... When I was a kid, Halloween was about scary costumes; it wasn't about sexualizing 5-year-old girls. We made our own costumes. We were monsters, witches, devils; we were whatever we wanted to be. It's one thing if an adult woman chooses to be a "sexy devil"; it's quite another when costumes aimed at elementary school-aged children markedly indicate a difference between the devil costume for a boy and a (usually "sexy") devil costume for a girl. Then, there's this: Boy Pterodactyl Costume.
Make your own choices, follow your own instincts, BE CREATIVE, and, for crying out loud, don't let chauvinistic marketing ploys win (even better, don't let consumerism win--see the "BE CREATIVE" part above).
There, I think I"m done for now.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Think About Challenging the Status Quo
There's something to be said for tradition--it holds a feeling of comfort, of knowing what to expect; additionally, some traditions have specific purposes and special meanings. Tradition exudes stability and reliability. These are good qualities.
One might say the same thing about the status quo.
The saying, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," comes to mind. It's certainly not a bad motto, if applied to an appropriate situation. There's a TV commercial, though, that states (this may or may not be a paraphrase...) "if no one had ever questioned the status quo, the Earth would still be flat." While I couldn't tell you the product being advertised (I think it's a car...), that sentence sticks with me constantly, its bitty wisdom knocking at my brain. (I'm guessing that this was probably not the intent of the marketers.)
How often do you question a tradition? How often do you question the status quo?
How often do you ask "Why?" Do you accept that which is, simply because it's always been that way? Because it's safe?
I read Andrea Batista Schlesinger's book, The Death of Why?: The Decline of Questioning and the Future of Democracy, last fall, and it got me thinking. It spurred me on a mission. I want to combat illiteracy, and I want to rouse the critical thinking skills that sit dormant in safe minds. I have ideas; I have thoughts. Mine is not a safe mind: I question. For instance, I wonder why there are so many high school graduates who cannot write a coherent paragraph, let alone an essay. I wonder why and I wonder how that happened. When my grandmother was in high school, she learned more than most people know even after they've graduated from college nowadays. She knew Shakespeare. Silas Marner. Latin. German. And her grammar was impeccable. I have many of her old grammar and literature books--notes written in the margins--and I'm in awe of the knowledge she possessed. Even in her 80s, she could still recite poems she had learned nearly 70 years earlier. She questioned. She thought critically. I know she did those things because they are evident in those notes in the margins of her old high school books.
I had a number of teachers throughout my primary and secondary education who started the first day of class with this statement: "There's no such thing as a dumb question." (In actuality, I think what they really meant was that there is such a thing as a dumb question but that they wouldn't judge our questions openly.) It seemed standard practice to me. I learned to question; I learned to ask why. And when people approach me with, "This is a dumb question, but...", I tell them the same thing. Because even if it is a "dumb" question (which I've certainly asked plenty of in my life), questioning should be rewarded (especially in young people). In her book, Schlesinger's cause is to create educated citizens--people who understand that they have a civic responsibility to question policies and laws. People have a responsibility to question the so-called status quo. People have a responsibility to ask questions.
The questions can start simple--questions about traditions, about society's expectations, about what one sees on TV, reads on the internet, or hears on the radio. For instance, why do people create New Year's resolutions that they'll inevitably break? Every January bookstores prominently display self-help books, weight loss books, and healthy cooking cookbooks. Why don't people just resolve daily to strive to be a better person? Why do they have to wait until January?
Why do people give chocolates and/or flowers on Valentine's Day? Is it because society tells them they should? Is it because they're putty in scheming marketers' hands? Is it not enough to tell someone you love him/her? Is it not enough to show that person your love and respect with some other kind gesture...and not in the way that society dictates you do it?
Do you question why you follow the latest fashions, buy the newest gadgets, or shop at certain stores?
Critical thinking skills are on the decline. Many people rely too much on what they read on the internet--without questioning, without fact-checking. There is so much information available. Retrieving it, though, is not the same as interpreting it. If people don't interpret, analyze, and assess what they read (or hear or see), what will happen with the future of the world? What is already happening? Schlesinger writes, ". . .having access to an infinite amount of information is meaningless. What matters is how we use the information that we happen upon, seek out, and are taught" (72-3). How do we (as a society) use this information?
Questions beget curiosity. Curiosity begets creativity. Creativity is essential for coming up with possible solutions. "[W]e need. . .people to do more than vote and buy and click; we need them to question the systems that govern their lives. . ." (Schlesinger 153). Assuming that the world was flat wasn't harming anything or anyone, but look what we've learned since then.
Knowing an answer does not give a person intrinsic power, but asking the questions that can lead you there might.
One might say the same thing about the status quo.
The saying, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," comes to mind. It's certainly not a bad motto, if applied to an appropriate situation. There's a TV commercial, though, that states (this may or may not be a paraphrase...) "if no one had ever questioned the status quo, the Earth would still be flat." While I couldn't tell you the product being advertised (I think it's a car...), that sentence sticks with me constantly, its bitty wisdom knocking at my brain. (I'm guessing that this was probably not the intent of the marketers.)
How often do you question a tradition? How often do you question the status quo?
How often do you ask "Why?" Do you accept that which is, simply because it's always been that way? Because it's safe?
I read Andrea Batista Schlesinger's book, The Death of Why?: The Decline of Questioning and the Future of Democracy, last fall, and it got me thinking. It spurred me on a mission. I want to combat illiteracy, and I want to rouse the critical thinking skills that sit dormant in safe minds. I have ideas; I have thoughts. Mine is not a safe mind: I question. For instance, I wonder why there are so many high school graduates who cannot write a coherent paragraph, let alone an essay. I wonder why and I wonder how that happened. When my grandmother was in high school, she learned more than most people know even after they've graduated from college nowadays. She knew Shakespeare. Silas Marner. Latin. German. And her grammar was impeccable. I have many of her old grammar and literature books--notes written in the margins--and I'm in awe of the knowledge she possessed. Even in her 80s, she could still recite poems she had learned nearly 70 years earlier. She questioned. She thought critically. I know she did those things because they are evident in those notes in the margins of her old high school books.
I had a number of teachers throughout my primary and secondary education who started the first day of class with this statement: "There's no such thing as a dumb question." (In actuality, I think what they really meant was that there is such a thing as a dumb question but that they wouldn't judge our questions openly.) It seemed standard practice to me. I learned to question; I learned to ask why. And when people approach me with, "This is a dumb question, but...", I tell them the same thing. Because even if it is a "dumb" question (which I've certainly asked plenty of in my life), questioning should be rewarded (especially in young people). In her book, Schlesinger's cause is to create educated citizens--people who understand that they have a civic responsibility to question policies and laws. People have a responsibility to question the so-called status quo. People have a responsibility to ask questions.
The questions can start simple--questions about traditions, about society's expectations, about what one sees on TV, reads on the internet, or hears on the radio. For instance, why do people create New Year's resolutions that they'll inevitably break? Every January bookstores prominently display self-help books, weight loss books, and healthy cooking cookbooks. Why don't people just resolve daily to strive to be a better person? Why do they have to wait until January?
Why do people give chocolates and/or flowers on Valentine's Day? Is it because society tells them they should? Is it because they're putty in scheming marketers' hands? Is it not enough to tell someone you love him/her? Is it not enough to show that person your love and respect with some other kind gesture...and not in the way that society dictates you do it?
Do you question why you follow the latest fashions, buy the newest gadgets, or shop at certain stores?
Critical thinking skills are on the decline. Many people rely too much on what they read on the internet--without questioning, without fact-checking. There is so much information available. Retrieving it, though, is not the same as interpreting it. If people don't interpret, analyze, and assess what they read (or hear or see), what will happen with the future of the world? What is already happening? Schlesinger writes, ". . .having access to an infinite amount of information is meaningless. What matters is how we use the information that we happen upon, seek out, and are taught" (72-3). How do we (as a society) use this information?
Questions beget curiosity. Curiosity begets creativity. Creativity is essential for coming up with possible solutions. "[W]e need. . .people to do more than vote and buy and click; we need them to question the systems that govern their lives. . ." (Schlesinger 153). Assuming that the world was flat wasn't harming anything or anyone, but look what we've learned since then.
Knowing an answer does not give a person intrinsic power, but asking the questions that can lead you there might.
Work Cited
Schlesinger, Andrea Batista. The Death of Why?: The Decline of Questioning and the Future of Democracy. San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2009. Print.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Think About the Over-Commercialization of Christmas
About 12 years ago I was working at a job where 25 or 30 of us sat in a large room cataloging library books. Several of my co-workers repeatedly requested to have music play in the background, but this request was refused over and over again.
Except at Christmastime.
Much to my dismay, at some point around Thanksgiving, Christmas music started pouring out of the stereo in the corner. Some of you who know me personally are aware that I don't like Christmas music. At least not in every setting or all of the time. Listening to the radio makes it seem as though only a few songs exist and that most pop artists can only sing those tunes. So, in an eight-hour shift, one might hear the same song--albeit different versions--at least a dozen times. And, worse, they're all peppy little numbers with happy, unimaginative lyrics. The exceptions are the actual religious Christmas carols, which have meaning and purpose and, therefore, seem out of place in a retail or other basically secular environment. And, perhaps, these should be reserved for a private (home) or religious (church) setting? If you're going to throw Christmas music at me in a public setting, at least give me something creative like, say, the Kinks' "Father Christmas."
So, when the Christmas music started at the aforementioned workplace, I told my "supervisor" [she was not my actual boss, but she spot-checked my work] that I was offended by it. She replied, "No, you're not; you just want to cause trouble." Well, she was mostly right (she knew me well). But I asked her, "What if I were Jewish?" She just rolled her eyes.
The fact remains, though: I do not think Christmas music should be broadcast ruthlessly on the radio. And certainly not in November. What is this obsession with Christmas music? With Christmas, in general?
And, lest I seem bitter and Scrooge-like, I must add that Christmas is actually my favorite holiday, but I like it for its true meaning. Peace on Earth. Goodwill toward all. Sound familiar? The commercialization of the holiday has gotten completely out of control. The true holiday spirit comes from giving something of yourself to others, and not necessarily in the form of a material object. It should come from the heart; it should have meaning.
And the true holiday spirit lasts all year.
Which is why one Christmas song I don't mind hearing all year round (as long as it's not played ten times a day on one tired radio station) is John Lennon's "Happy Christmas (War Is Over)." Because, really, wouldn't it be a merry Christmas for everyone if there wasn't fear in this world, if there wasn't fighting, if war really was over?
Isn't that what's meant by "Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward all"?
Except at Christmastime.
Much to my dismay, at some point around Thanksgiving, Christmas music started pouring out of the stereo in the corner. Some of you who know me personally are aware that I don't like Christmas music. At least not in every setting or all of the time. Listening to the radio makes it seem as though only a few songs exist and that most pop artists can only sing those tunes. So, in an eight-hour shift, one might hear the same song--albeit different versions--at least a dozen times. And, worse, they're all peppy little numbers with happy, unimaginative lyrics. The exceptions are the actual religious Christmas carols, which have meaning and purpose and, therefore, seem out of place in a retail or other basically secular environment. And, perhaps, these should be reserved for a private (home) or religious (church) setting? If you're going to throw Christmas music at me in a public setting, at least give me something creative like, say, the Kinks' "Father Christmas."
So, when the Christmas music started at the aforementioned workplace, I told my "supervisor" [she was not my actual boss, but she spot-checked my work] that I was offended by it. She replied, "No, you're not; you just want to cause trouble." Well, she was mostly right (she knew me well). But I asked her, "What if I were Jewish?" She just rolled her eyes.
The fact remains, though: I do not think Christmas music should be broadcast ruthlessly on the radio. And certainly not in November. What is this obsession with Christmas music? With Christmas, in general?
And, lest I seem bitter and Scrooge-like, I must add that Christmas is actually my favorite holiday, but I like it for its true meaning. Peace on Earth. Goodwill toward all. Sound familiar? The commercialization of the holiday has gotten completely out of control. The true holiday spirit comes from giving something of yourself to others, and not necessarily in the form of a material object. It should come from the heart; it should have meaning.
And the true holiday spirit lasts all year.
Which is why one Christmas song I don't mind hearing all year round (as long as it's not played ten times a day on one tired radio station) is John Lennon's "Happy Christmas (War Is Over)." Because, really, wouldn't it be a merry Christmas for everyone if there wasn't fear in this world, if there wasn't fighting, if war really was over?
Isn't that what's meant by "Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward all"?
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Think About Marketing
Each year, Christmas comes too early.
It's supposed to be a joyful holiday, a celebration of Jesus's birth; but, instead, marketers create a depressing collage of commercialism. And like pawns in a board game, people fall for it, going to malls and superstores and spending money they don't have for things they don't need (and, often, don't even want). I avoid superstores, and I've been to a mall about twice in the last two years. I avoid shopping at all (except for groceries and other necessities), although I will support local/independent stores--if I have a need to buy anything, that is.
The day after Thanksgiving is the day I do the opposite of what many people do. Instead of buying anything, I give stuff away. I'm currently in the process of sorting through my clothes, books, and other items. While I clean out my closets and shelves a few times each year, November is when I do my major "Spring cleaning" (I know...wrong time of year). Donating to a good cause (I usually take my items to the American Cancer Society's local Discovery [resale] shop) feels to be more in the "spirit" of the season than buying things. It's my mini-protest against the commercialism of Christmas.
The marketing department at the company I work for sends out an e-newsletter every two weeks with what they deem note-worthy or interesting information. A couple of weeks ago one of these items was about retail giant Nordstrom and how it "will not be decorating its stores for this holiday season until the very end of November..." in order "to give its customers a chance to celebrate Thanksgiving with their families first." The newsletter blurb continues: "Whether this is truly the spirit of Thanksgiving in action or simply a genius marketing tactic is up for you to decide." (Note: I have not confirmed that this information is actually true. If I knew where a Nordstrom was, I might be curious enough to actually visit; but I'd rather hear from my readers. That way I don't have to go near a mall or shopping center--I break out in hives if I get too close....)
The cynic in me wonders why Nordstrom customers can't celebrate Thanksgiving with their families anyway, regardless of how the store is decorated. How would a store's decor affect that?
Is it a marketing ploy? Is it a tactic to get customers in the store to see if it's decorated or not? If so, I don't want to fall for it.
Even without shopping (at Nordstrom or anywhere else), I'm bombarded with Christmas everywhere I turn. Instead of putting me in a joyous spirit, it depresses me. I don't want to hear Christmas music yet. I don't want to see Christmas trees or festive decor. I'll be sick of it by the time Christmas actually arrives.
Call me Scrooge, but it's marketers who have ruined this holiday for me.
Bah-hum-bug. Pass the eggnog.
It's supposed to be a joyful holiday, a celebration of Jesus's birth; but, instead, marketers create a depressing collage of commercialism. And like pawns in a board game, people fall for it, going to malls and superstores and spending money they don't have for things they don't need (and, often, don't even want). I avoid superstores, and I've been to a mall about twice in the last two years. I avoid shopping at all (except for groceries and other necessities), although I will support local/independent stores--if I have a need to buy anything, that is.
The day after Thanksgiving is the day I do the opposite of what many people do. Instead of buying anything, I give stuff away. I'm currently in the process of sorting through my clothes, books, and other items. While I clean out my closets and shelves a few times each year, November is when I do my major "Spring cleaning" (I know...wrong time of year). Donating to a good cause (I usually take my items to the American Cancer Society's local Discovery [resale] shop) feels to be more in the "spirit" of the season than buying things. It's my mini-protest against the commercialism of Christmas.
The marketing department at the company I work for sends out an e-newsletter every two weeks with what they deem note-worthy or interesting information. A couple of weeks ago one of these items was about retail giant Nordstrom and how it "will not be decorating its stores for this holiday season until the very end of November..." in order "to give its customers a chance to celebrate Thanksgiving with their families first." The newsletter blurb continues: "Whether this is truly the spirit of Thanksgiving in action or simply a genius marketing tactic is up for you to decide." (Note: I have not confirmed that this information is actually true. If I knew where a Nordstrom was, I might be curious enough to actually visit; but I'd rather hear from my readers. That way I don't have to go near a mall or shopping center--I break out in hives if I get too close....)
The cynic in me wonders why Nordstrom customers can't celebrate Thanksgiving with their families anyway, regardless of how the store is decorated. How would a store's decor affect that?
Is it a marketing ploy? Is it a tactic to get customers in the store to see if it's decorated or not? If so, I don't want to fall for it.
Even without shopping (at Nordstrom or anywhere else), I'm bombarded with Christmas everywhere I turn. Instead of putting me in a joyous spirit, it depresses me. I don't want to hear Christmas music yet. I don't want to see Christmas trees or festive decor. I'll be sick of it by the time Christmas actually arrives.
Call me Scrooge, but it's marketers who have ruined this holiday for me.
Bah-hum-bug. Pass the eggnog.
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