Living a Full Life on Social Media

At a panel discussion I attended earlier this year, a successful entrepreneur was asked what he does and does not want to see in a job applicant's Facebook page. His answer surprised us all: he doesn't care.  "We all live full lives outside of work," he said. "And I expect that my employees do as well. What's important is that they do their jobs."

At first, that statement might seem a little crazy. After all, most experts will tell you that posting photos of drinking with friends will convey to a potential employer that you're more into partying than working. Even if all your photos were taken at one party, employers will worry: if he can't present himself professionally on social media, how will he represent the company in "real life"?

These are legitimate concerns, and most of us manage our social media pages to reflect who we are and how we want to be perceived. But the reality is that as social media continues to grow, these "red flags" will become harder to find. Every second, our uncensored thoughts are shared with people on social media around the world and become trends that attract marketers and advertisers. A controversial performance at the MTV Music Video awards this year not only raised the profile of Miley Cyrus, but also led to one of the nation's most respected actors, Morgan Freeman, reading a definition of "twerking" on TV. Whether it's a Facebook Town Hall led by the President, or a "new language" of Twitter hashtags, the evidence is clear: social media has become a way to promote our original thoughts, publicize our "compelling" lives, and share our "funny" stories with millions of people around the world. And with all of us competing for followers, friends, and retweets, we'll all inevitably say something "cool" that we regret.

So is engaging in social media a risk worth taking? I'd say yes. Just remember what Taylor Swift once said: "All of my favorite people - people I really trust - none of them were cool in their younger years." Which reminds me: hey, @taylorswift13, can I get an RT?

Finding the Empty and Bringing it Back to Life

A mother of four from Ecuador collects bottles and cans in the film Redemption.

Their bounty rattles down the streets of New York in clear garbage bags flowing over the sides of shopping carts. Their success depends on their efficiency and endurance, as they track down trash and hunt for bottles and cans once filled with things sweet and delicious.

It's hard to imagine these "canners" don't feel the pity, disgust, and fear from those more fortunate, from those who can't understand why anyone would collect that many recyclables. But the canners do what they have to survive. The documentary Redemption -- produced by Downtown Community Television Center and available on HBO on Demand -- shares the stories of a few of them. There's Susan from the Bronx, a former IBM saleswoman who needs more than social security to make ends meet; Walter, a former bouncer at the Chelsea Hotel, who's been living under the West Side Highway for 25 years; and there's Nuve, a mother of four from Ecuador who collects empties every day to support her family.

The film is quite understated: in 35 minutes, it depicts the typical day of canners and gives them a chance to talk about their lives. For me, it was tough to make sense of the canning phenomenon. Why are our taxes paying for each can or bottle redeemed? Why can't the money be used to provide jobs to some of these canners and give them a second chance at life?

I know it's complicated. The New York City Sanitation Department has enough employees; replacing them with canners will only make the problem worse. But like the canners, we have to be creative and work hard to find solutions. I don't know the answer, but I do know one thing: we won't find the solution in a bag full of empties.  

If You Can't Give Buskers Money, Give Them a Hand

Of the many careers suffering in our new economy, one seems to have the worst prognosis: music. It's not just because digital music is more accessible and affordable than ever before. Or, that in the age of sampling and rap-pop songs, there seem to be fewer original hits and more forgettable one-hit wonders. But rather, it's that most people who perform live music don't attract admiration; they generate sympathy.

You're not supposed to give money to people on the subway, and for good reason. It only encourages those in need to ask for more and avoid the many non-profit and government organizations that provide far more food and better services with your money. But at the same time, the fact that most riders ignore these buskers reflects our changing values. A bunch of kids breakdancing and hanging upside down in the subway may not seem like art -- but it does require creativity and practice. Three guys in ponchos and sombreros singing "Guantanamera" may seem a bit dated -- but it's still a beautiful way for Mariachi singers to share their talent with the world. The truth is that those crowded platforms and dark subway tunnels where we crush candy on our phones, read paperbacks and kindles, and curse about train delays -- they may be the only places where live music and dance will survive.

You can't stop progress, and that includes the fast-moving world of mobile communications. But I do hope that no matter how many distractions the future throws our way, we'll always find time to look up and appreciate the enormous talent riding right in front of us.