Putting the Vulnerability Loop to the Test
This is a modified excerpt from my graduate thesis titled, “This is a Thesis,” where I explored how to approach the design-thinking process with vulnerability. The full thesis can be read here.
In the article “How showing vulnerability helps build a stronger team”, author, Daniel Coyle, dives into the social exchange of vulnerability by referencing the work of Jeff Polzer, a professor of organizational behavior at Harvard. The article covers the action of a vulnerability loop, which Coyle describes as follows:
A shared exchange of openness, it’s the most basic building block of cooperation and trust. Vulnerability loops seem swift and spontaneous, but they all follow the same steps:
1. Person A sends a signal of vulnerability.
2. Person B detects this signal.
3. Person B responds by signaling their own vulnerability.
4. Person A detects this signal.
5. A norm is established; closeness and trust increase.
After learning about a vulnerability loop, I began to understand how each signal was a critical step in creating a connection. However, the part that I wanted to focus in on was the moment when there is a shift. The moment when the second person decides to lean into vulnerability as well. This led me to my research question: what drives the motivation to take the risk of emotional exposure?
My research started with the decision to conduct a series of interviews with various creative makers whom I perceived as being vulnerable. The idea was to wander around New York City for three weeks, interviewing buskers and street artists, and record the audio from these interactions. The interviews were unplanned, spontaneous events that would be sparked whenever I saw someone publicly displaying their art. The spontaneity was an essential step of this process because as the receiver, I needed to start the interaction in a way where it could send an initial signal of vulnerability. The interviews started with a quick introduction about myself and went straight into a conversation about what the artist thought about vulnerability. Often the artists, or receivers, would also want to know my thoughts about vulnerability and how I explored the value in my work. By sharing personal experiences with the receivers, it shifted the perception of the research as it was no longer about interviews, it was about conversations.
Over the course of three weeks, I spoke with ten people, and two of the conversations stood out: a jazz musician and a visual artist. The audio recordings of these two individuals became content for two short films that would live in the same series. My voice was removed from the audio so that the focus could be placed of the artists’ stories. As for the visuals for the films, I filmed the environments of each of the artists, one being the subway platform and the other being the parks and public spaces where street vendors sell their work. The established tone of these films was that the audience would not be exposed to the person speaking; creating anonymity that would allow for the audience to focus more on the speaker’s story. The project came to be a three chapter series with the third chapter being my own story. The series is titled Open Mic.
Open Mic premiered in an intimate screening room in Soho, New York in front of an audience of twenty guests. Before the guests arrived at the event, a vulnerable mindset needed to be established. Therefore, the following question was on the RSVP for the event: Tell me about a time when you noticed someone stepping outside of their comfort zone. The attendees provided anecdotes that described personal experiences that could all be summed up into vulnerability.
After showing the short films, there was a discussion about the series and the process for creating the work. The discussion started on the surface but moved into more in-depth topics about my journey as a designer. When I stood in front of the audience, the same fears that plagued me at the beginning of my graduate school career were no longer present. By leaning into the vulnerability of the performance and using my audience as a source of support, I had built trust and could fully show up without being afraid.
As Coyle points out, “Leaping into the unknown, when done alongside others, causes the solid ground of trust to materialize beneath our feet.” The vulnerability was used to my advantage in both the conversations with the artists and the discussion at the screening; I needed my audience, if not more than they needed me. Consequently, the shift happened when I sent the signal: “You have a role here. I need you.”
The experimentation in the realm of vulnerability was a challenging process filled with flaws and imperfections. In the past, I had boxed those flaws and imperfections into fear and did everything I could to move the box out of my life. However, once a willingness to investigate this box developed, it became understood that it was going to be easier moving through the box rather than dodging its existence. Yes, there is a risk involved, but it is one I’m willing to take.