Who I Ask & How I Do It (Part 1)
Episode 13 of the podcast
Estimated reading time: 22 minutes (or watch the video)
I personally believe that everyone has an answer to this question, and I wish I could ask literally everyone. Unfortunately, I don't get that opportunity, but I can always ask someone.
I looked through the journal and categorized at least 33 ways that I approach people. It comes up in a lot of different ways! But I removed some redundancies and broke down some of the most common or interesting ways I’ve asked based on a specific setting. I’ve shared 10 of those ways in this post.
I’ll share 5 more in the next post, as well as some takeaways and insights from asking at least 500 people the same question in many different ways.
1) Passengers Who Stand Out
Why I Ask: If you read Day 1 of the Project, you know the foundation of how it all started. I was working a flight that day—the very first day of my music diet, which was also my 38th birthday—and I had a blank journal with me. I realized I could use it for music recommendations.
I figured it would be overwhelming to hand it to people and ask them to write down music recs—and I wouldn’t be able to keep up with it. So I tried to come up with a question that everyone would have an answer to—about just one song—and every answer would be different. (And at the least, if they said the same song, they would probably have a different story about it.)
I thought everyone would have a song tied to a memory, so I figured I'd ask about a happy one. And that's how I came up with the question, "What's a song that reminds you of a happy memory?"
How I Ask: I grabbed the journal and started walking through the aisle, and figured I would ask anyone who returned eye contact with me and smiled. That's how I went about it the very first time.
A few rows into the economy cabin, a man looked up at me and smiled. I stopped and said, "Hey, would you help me with something? I would love to know about a song you associate with a happy memory."
And he was like, "Yeah, sure." He wrote it down, and that was that!
His song was "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey—but I don't know the story behind it. I didn't feel comfortable asking right away. I figured if people wanted to share, then that was amazing, but I didn't feel right about asking to dig deeper with total strangers. They had already been vulnerable enough just by participating, so I didn't really know how to handle that at first.
But that's how it started. And because I try to ask at least one person a day, and the majority of interactions I have are through work, that means the majority of people represented in this project are passengers. That's how most of these conversations come about.
Sometimes, I still walk through the aisle like that if I haven't really connected with anyone on the plane yet, or built up some kind of rapport. Sometimes it happens just through little chitchat we have during boarding or during service, and then I will gravitate towards a couple people because we have somewhat of a rapport, or I can see they're really friendly, etc.
But my favorite approach is to ask the pattern-breakers, and that's what I refer to as people who stand out.
Either they make a specific point of engaging with me or with my crew members as people, rather than this transaction of “passenger” and “flight attendant.” That makes me feel seen and appreciated and valued, and I absolutely want to make someone else feel the same way in return.
Example: One was during boarding on a 777. If you don't know, that’s one of the biggest commercial aircraft made by Boeing. The capacity is around 280 to 330 passengers, depending on the configuration. (At least in our fleet. Might be different with other airlines.)
By comparison, a regional jet is 50 to 80 people. (Those are the airplanes where you have to check your bag at the gate because it won't fit in an overhead bin, and then when you get off, you pick it up right there at the gate.)
I work mainline, so the majority of what I fly is 737s, or planes of that scale. (For context, if you’ve ever flown Southwest, you’ve been on a 737. That’s all they fly.) A 777 is twice that size—so it's twice the energy that you are being bombarded with, and have to give. I really don't like flying wide-bodies, especially domestic, because they’re so much extra chaos for the same amount of time.
But one day, I was going to visit someone, and the trip that I had to work in order to get there was all on domestic wide-bodies—all on triple sevens—and it was absolutely exhausting.
My position was to be the door greeter during boarding—basically the funnel for the chaos. When people come on board, the greeter is the first person they see, and a lot of them have questions—and almost all of them don't know how to find their seat. It's a big plane, and there are four possible directions passengers can go, because there are two aisles, and we’re in the middle of the plane. So they could go forward or aft, in the near aisle or the far one.
I was standing there, trying to ask every single person where they were sitting as they were coming on through this big door, several people at a time. I had to direct them which aisle to use and which direction to go, or else they’d use the wrong one and then have to fight back against the crowd, with their suitcases.
And everyone would get frustrated, and boarding would slow down, and then we might not leave on time. Okay?! So those are the stakes.
During one of these very stressful boardings, I was standing there with a smile on my face and saying, "Hi, welcome aboard. Hi, welcome aboard. Hi, where are you sitting? Hi, where are you sitting? Hey, welcome aboard. Hey, where's your seat?"
Times 333 people per flight. It was exhausting.
In the midst of all this chaos—and half the people not listening to me, or not hearing me, and having to repeat myself without losing my patience or my smile—one passenger broke the pattern.
He paused right in front of me, made eye contact, and smiled. Then, he said, "Hi! Good morning. How are you?"
It was the calm in the midst of a storm. And for that one moment, from one person, I felt seen. I felt noticed. I felt like a human again, rather than this flight attendant robot that hardly anyone seemed to be paying attention to, even though I was just trying to help and do my job. So I really appreciated that.
I was actually caught very off guard and was probably stumbling over myself. I think I said, "Uh, I'm... good morning! I'm fine, thanks! How are you?" Even though I totally wasn't fine. I just felt fine then, all of a sudden. We had a very brief chat, but I really appreciated it, and it made my morning.
After boarding, I didn't remember where this man had said he was sitting. And it's a big plane, so I was just hoping I’d be able to find him in this sea of people and ask him for his song, because I wanted him to feel seen, too.
Luckily, I found him! At some point, after service, I came up to him with the journal and said, "Hey, I really appreciated your kindness during boarding. Because of that, I wanted to share this project with you. I ask people to write about a song they associate with a happy memory, and I would love to hear, what's your song?"
He said he appreciated getting to be part of the project. His entry was “Boy in the Bubble” by Paul Simon. Here’s what he shared:
Road trip with family, and this song, entire album, really, being the first opportunity to bond with parents and brother through shared love of music, art, and storytelling. It is the memory of discovering that music is not of, or by a particular generation, but rather a throughline in our shared condition.
This poetic and pensive entry stood out to me, because this isn't the sort of tone or depth that most people share when they talk about their song. He sounded like a writer. He also signed his full name, which has almost a logotype look about it, as though it has been signed repeatedly to the point of perfection.
So I Googled his name—Barton Seaver—and it turns out he is an author! He’s published like nine cookbooks, and he's a chef who specializes in seafood and sustainability. Seems like a really lovely human being. I was happy to cross paths with him, and I'm very grateful for his kindness during that boarding, and what he shared with me.
2) Coworkers
Why I Ask: The majority of coworkers I ask are other flight attendants, pilots, or gate agents, for obvious reasons. I ask not only because I interact with them the most, but because I want to get to know them as people, and not just as coworkers.
How I Ask: With the flight attendants, it's a great way to bond outside of the day-to-day. I also want them to know I'm doing this project, so if they see me in the aisle with my journal talking to a passenger, they don't have to wonder what's happening.
I don't really have a typical way that I ask them, because it comes up differently almost every time. But at some point during our trip together, I will say, "Hey, this is a project I'm working on. It's about music. I ask people to share a song they associate with a happy memory. So if you think of one during our trip together, I would love for you to write it."
With pilots, I don't just ask to get to know them as coworkers. I also ask because sometimes it's kind of hard to connect with them. Even though we're working on the same plane, for the same company, we often have very different paths for how we got there and reasons for doing it. Because of that, we typically have very different personality types, and sometimes it's hard to find things to connect about.
Typically we have this unwritten script of small talk. Here’s how the conversation is gonna go if I don't bring up this music project:
Where are you based? Do you live in base or do you commute? (Ah, okay. They live in base.) So what part of town are you in? (Ah, they commute. So where do you commute from?)
How's the trip going for you? What are you doing today? (That means, "what are you flying today? Like where you end up? What kind of aircraft?)
How's your day going? (That means, "are people being nice to you?")
What are you gonna do on the layover? I've never been there; what is something I could do on a layover?
When that's the only conversation you ever have with someone in this position, it gets exhausting. So part of the reason I ask about the music project is to switch things up. I think we both appreciate it. And through this project, I have discovered that music is a really safe subject. Generally, I come up to them with the journal and say, “Hey, I wanted to show you my music project. I ask people to share a song they associate with a happy memory. Does anything come to mind for you?”
And then there's also gate agents. I ask them because we don't get much opportunity for interaction beyond strictly business. It's a way to acknowledge their humanity, and help them remember, "Hey, I don't just see you as a coworker. I know you're a complex and beautiful human being underneath that uniform, and I just wanted to talk about something that makes us both happy."
I want to remind them that I don't see them as just a number. I don't see them as just a cog in this corporate machine. I see them as a person, and this is a way to remind them of that. And it gives us an opportunity to share something personal rather than just professional.
If we have an opportunity to chat, it’s typically because something is wrong—like a delay or cancellation. That’s even more reason to discuss something that makes us happy.
Example: One instance was with a gate agent who works out of Vancouver. We had boarded everyone, but were delayed afterward for some reason. I was positioned at the boarding door, and he was waiting to close it.
I said, "Hey, while we're waiting, I have a music question for you." And he said, "oh, okay." So I pulled out the journal and said, "what's a song that reminds you of a happy memory?"
He lit up. He is such a sweet man. And he knew his answer right away, but he asked, "is it okay that the song is not in English?" I said, "absolutely. It's your song. It's more about the memory and the association you have with it anyway."
So he wrote, "‘Ek ladki ko oskna,’ 1942, A Love Story." (I think he actually wrote the title wrong because when I Google it, it says "Ek ladki ko dekha.")
He said it's a song from that film, 1942, A Love Story, and it was in his head when his daughter was born. So the first time he ever held his daughter, he sang her that song. Now he associates it with her, so it always makes him happy when he hears it.
I have come into Vancouver several times throughout the course of this project, and every time I see him, we remember each other. I ask how his daughter's doing, and he asks how the project is going. It makes me really look forward to going to Vancouver!
3) People with a visible link to music
Why I Ask: I gravitate towards anyone who visibly expresses interest in music, because it’s something we already have in common. I also believe they'd be excited to talk about this question, whether or not they have an answer.
Sometimes they’re carrying instruments or records, people playing instruments or performing music, people who work at music stores, anyone wearing T-shirts or accessories related to music, people with musical tattoos, or stickers on their suitcases...
How I Ask: I point out what we have in common, and then say, "I’m doing a music project and I thought you might wanna hear about it." Most have an answer right away.
Example: A guy was standing outside of the Pike Place market (in Seattle), playing an instrument. It looked like a big mandolin, but it had a specific name that I had never heard of before. There was a poster inside the case which said “Omenfog.”
I didn't wait for the musician to pause. I just walked right up to him, smiled, and said, "Hey, what's a song that reminds you of a happy memory?"
He looked at me, stopped playing, and looked away. I apologized for interrupting his music, but he said it was fine; he was just thinking.
“There's like a dozen songs that come to mind all at once," he said.
He decided on "Wishful Sinful" by The Doors, and he put, "Reminds me of my teen years." He associated The Doors with his mom, and said they would sing a lot of the songs together. She played a lot of their music while he was growing up. He said it was hard even just to pick one Doors song, since they mean a lot to him because of that.
His name was Gabriel. Check out his music on Bandcamp!
4) Anyone who is journaling or drawing
Why I Ask: I feel connected to such people instantly because I identify with those forms of introspection and creative expression. That common ground is a great way to start a conversation.
How I Ask: If they're an artist, I say something like, "Hey, I see you appreciate creative projects, and I wanted to show you mine." Or if they're doing writing in a notebook, I ask what they’re working on, or say something like, "Hey, I love journaling, too!"
Example: I was doing beverage service on one flight, and when I reached one particular row, I noticed a man writing in a big leather-bound notebook. I said, "Hey, can I ask what you're working on there?"
He wasn't journaling; he was brainstorming ideas and an outline for a website that he was putting together for his side business. I said I had just launched a website for a music project I’m doing, so we chatted about websites. Then he asked about the project.
After service, I brought him the journal. He wrote "Peaceful, easy Feeling" by the Eagles:
This reminds me of going off to college. My parents bought me a Volkswagen van, and I drove across the country from the East coast to Los Angeles to go to college. I remember driving for days, wondering what my life was gonna be like not living with my parents. How was I gonna like college? Who are all my friends gonna be? Will I fall in love? What will I do as a career? How much money will I make? Will I be happy? And the song sums it up.
In a time when I had no idea how my life was gonna turn out, I had a peaceful, easy, and exciting feeling. At 67 years old, I can say that it all worked out. Thanks for asking me to share!
His name was Rick. Thank you, Rick!
5) Familiar faces in my community
Why I Ask: I felt like I wasn't making enough progress by just asking at work or on flights, and I wanted to make consistent progress on the journal. I decided I need to ask at least one person a day, no matter what.
I realized that as I run errands and go about my daily routine, there's people who I see repeatedly. I figured I should start asking them.
How I Ask: "Hey, I have a random question for you." This signals that I'm about to break away from the norm, and our standard interactions.
I hadn’t realized the byproduct of asking them for their songs would be connecting with them. I regret knowing that my intention was more out of productivity than out of connection, but I'm really happy that I asked them. Every time I see them now, we smile differently. We stop and chat. It makes me feel more connected to my own community through connecting with these people as humans, rather than as our roles.
Examples: People at my gym, mechanics at the auto shop, or clerks at my grocery store. Read those stories here!
6) Family, Friends, & Family Friends
Why I ask them: I want to share this part of myself with people I already know. It's big and important and time consuming for me, so they wanna hear about it. Asking this question also deepens our bonds.
Example: One night, I was at a game group with my parents, and I decided to ask their friends. We know each other, and the basic things we can talk about together, but I thought asking about music would be a different sort of conversation for us all to have, and a different way to get to know each other.
How I ask: Well, I learned how not to ask the question, and that is by saying, "Hey, I just started a new project and I wondered if you'd all like to contribute."
I got up and went to my purse to get out the journal, and apparently they all exchanged glances that suggested they thought I was asking for money. Then, I heard my mom say, "She's not asking for financial contributions! It’s to participate in the project."
I feel bad about implying that I needed monetary contributions. That was a learning moment. I quickly clarified, “it’s a collaborative endeavor. I just wanna hear your answer to this question, and I'd like for you to write it down in this book."
One of the songs they wrote here was "Working My Way Back to You" by the Four Seasons. This person said they used to rollerskate with their son to that song.
Even though we were all there connecting already through card games, I appreciated getting to hear from everyone individually. There were maybe 10 of us sitting at a big round table, and we all took turns sharing a little bit about our songs. We all appreciated getting to share and getting to learn more about each other's backgrounds. It was really a great conversation!
7) People who probably feel invisible
Why I Ask: To make people feel seen and/or included.
I often see airport workers seem to feel consistently overlooked. I also once saw an author sitting at a book signing table, surrounded by books, but no one was talking to him. And once, I was on a layover where our shuttle driver had to drive us quite a ways to get to our hotel. We were in the car together for at least 30 minutes, and I was up front next to the driver. My crew members and I were all talking, and I wanted him to feel included in our conversation. So at some point, I asked him the question.
But the story that I think means the most to me from this category is one time when I asked a homeless man.
Example: I was walking out of a store on a layover in Buffalo, New York, and I saw a person around my age, or a little bit younger, holding a cardboard sign and asking for money. It must be really painful to stand up and admit that you need help, but no one is helping you. They just keep walking past you, driving past you, trying not to make eye contact… It has to be deeply humbling and uncomfortable, especially the longer it goes on.
I knew even though he was asking for money, he was really asking to be seen. He was asking to be treated like a human. I wanted him to feel noticed. I thought we could help each other out, and I wanted it to be through connection—even if I had to pay for it, in this instance.
How I Asked: I handed him a dollar and said, "Hey, I wondered if you could help me with a project I'm working on." I showed him the journal and asked for his song.
He put "More than a feeling" by Boston. He and his dad went to a lot of car shows when he was a kid, and that song played there pretty often. It reminds him of growing up and getting to spend time with his dad.
8) Crushes & Dates
Why I Ask: With crushes, it's a great way to break the ice. The best example of this is Michael, who you can read about here and here.
With dates, it's important to me that I share this part of myself. Not only is it something that I'm spending a lot of time on, but it's also a form of connection. It's a great way to get to know each other.
How I Ask: "Hey, I wanna tell you about this project I'm doing."
Example: I had one date shortly after I started the project with a guy who was involved in music. I believe he was a music teacher. His name was Ryan, and his song was "Night moves" by Bob Seger.
When he was a kid, he would make mix tapes. There was one that was well liked by everyone in his family, so they would play it a lot. Eventually, he realized the tape lasted the exact amount of time that it would take for them to leave his childhood home and drive over to visit his grandmother. “Night Moves” was the last song on the tape.
So every time it played, it was a signal that he was about to go spend time with his grandma, who he loved dearly. He still remembers the anticipation and the excitement.
9) Desired Demographics
Why I ask: I’ve written down a list of several types of people that I want represented in this project. It's important to me that there is a rich and diverse representation of this emotional experience. The journal should reflect different cultures, beliefs, experiences, professions, languages, etc.
How I Ask: There's two ways. Sometimes I see people who are visibly on that list of groups of people I want represented, in which case I make a “cold call” and just ask the question without context. Best example of this is the firefighters. In that case, I asked because of their car and uniforms.
Or sometimes I discover that people are on my list of target demographics, like asking a CEO.
Example: I was working in First Class and I saw a passenger working on his laptop. He was really glued to it, and kept it out as long as he could until the absolute last minute that he had to put it away to adhere to the safety regulations. As soon as he was able to take it back out, he was immediately working again.
Based on the way he was dressed, and the fact that he was sitting in First Class, I assumed first, that he was very busy, and second, that he was very accomplished and working a demanding job.
I was curious about what he did for a living, but he was so wrapped up in his work that I didn't want to interrupt. So I looked up his name on our seat map and then Googled it on the in-flight WiFi, and I saw that he was a CEO. I really wanted to engage him in conversation, but again, I didn't think he’d appreciate being interrupted for some silly music question.
At some point during the flight, he came up to ask for a beverage or something. I took that opportunity to ask how his day was going on a scale from 1 to 10.
That's a great conversation opener, by the way. It's playful; it's fun. And if someone tells you their day is like a 2—which did happen once—then you kind of know not to take it further. Just give 'em some grace and say, "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope it gets better."
When I asked him, he said his day was a 7, which is a good sign. And then he asked about mine, and I said it was an 8. He replied, "That’s great! What makes today so special?"
I explained that my favorite band had just announced they were releasing an album on vinyl, with only 5,000 copies. I pre-ordered it, and got one before it sold out!"
By the way, that band is Queens of the Stone Age, and the album was Alive in the Catacombs.
Suddenly, the conversation was about music. So I said, "Hey, you know, actually I have a music project. I ask people to share a song that they associate with a happy memory. Would you like to share your song in this journal?"
He was excited to participate! His song was “Send Me on my way” by Rusted Root. Here’s what he shared:
Reliable in encouraging hooting, hollering, and general merriment in the basements of college dwellings of the late 1990s, 'Send Me On My Way' pulled off the neat trick of being an ‘acousticky’ song that skipped at a fast pace before hitting an outright sprint. Its listeners might not have been able to sing or remember all of its lyrics, but they did love how it made them feel, which was, a lot of the time, happy to be young, carefree, sometimes barefoot, and often coated with beer suds. Fun things to remember from New Jersey in the 1990s!
Out of respect for his privacy—and the fact that I Googled his name just to find out that he was a CEO—I don't think I should share that here. But I really appreciated him contributing. :)
10) Language-Based Asks
Why I Ask: I would like to be able to connect with as many people as possible through this question, even if language is a barrier. So when I discover that I'm talking with someone who speaks another language, I try to ask them for a translation of this question.
I realize I could just use Google Translate, but it feels wrong to use machine translation for a question that I use specifically for human connection.
Asking for a translation is another opportunity to A) be vulnerable, and B) connect with someone as a human being.
How I Ask: "Hey, could you help me translate this sentence into [the language they speak]? It’s for a project I’m doing."
Example 1: When I was on the date with Ryan, who shared his song about the mixtape, we were at a bar. I overheard the bartender speaking Spanish. I can speak a little bit of Spanish, but I'm not fluent. So I asked him to help me translate the question, and then I asked for his song.
He couldn't think of an answer in the moment, But he still lives on as part of the project, because he helped me with that Spanish translation.
Example 2: The second component to this is that when I discover that someone speaks one of these languages, I try to ask them in that language. It doesn't usually go well, but that has been really interesting and humbling. I feel like I look even stupider asking this question in other languages because I'm not able to provide as much context for why I am asking.
I was working a flight to Havana, and most of the passengers were primarily speaking Spanish, but not much English. I primarily speak English, but not much Spanish. One passenger, who was fluent in both languages, helped both sides communicate and interpret. And he was super nice!
I figured this was a great opportunity for me to finally ask in Spanish, especially since I could provide context in English if necessary. I went up to him after service, knelt down, and showed him the journal. Then, I asked him in Spanish.
He wrote two songs, and they're both in Spanish, and I don't quite know the translation or association. I'm sure he told me some things about his memories, but I didn't quite know what was happening for the whole conversation, because it was in Spanish. But I appreciated it nonetheless.
One of the songs he shared was "Babasónicos" by Iresponsables. The lyrics he wrote are, "Somos culpables de este amor escandaloso," which translates to, "We are guilty of this scandalous love." I’m sure there's a story there—but I don't know it, because it was in Spanish.
I still really appreciate him responding, and it was exciting for me to have an entry that came from asking in another language!
Next, I’ll share 5 more ways I go about asking people for their song, as well as some takeaways and insights I've learned from asking this question 500+ times.
How about you?
How would you go about asking the question in some of these circumstances? What opportunities am I overlooking? Share your thoughts below!