How do my professional and personal experiences affect my perceptions of visual media?

At work, I’m a writer with nearly two decades of experience for investment brokerage firms owned by banks, plus three years as a reporter. I try to keep up with my colleagues concerning the user experience role within the sector, but I don’t spend any of my leisure time researching this topic.

When I’m not working, you can find me completing assignments in this graduate course, cheering for my two teenage boys who play travel ice hockey, volunteering as a board member and team manager (more than 200 hours each year), cooking and home-canning, and escaping mentally with novels and movies that don’t require much brain power.

I really think I should get out more.

At work, I write for two websites, mostly after users log in. Thanks to my role within a large-scale corporate application development process, I appreciate well-thought-out online spaces that value my time as much as I do, so I quickly abandon user experiences that fail to deliver. That may help explain why I do most of my online shopping on safe, credible websites like Amazon.com and tend to spurn lesser-known online boutiques. I also tend to stick with predictable games like Angry Birds and Candy Crush.

I started my career as a reporter, so that means I’m resourceful and nosy. Apparently, I’ve passed on those traits to my son David when he’s online. I recall a proud parent moment last week when he entered logical search terms on my iPhone to find the right information quickly while I was driving. On Sunday, he politely thanked his aunt for a birthday check, and then used his smartphone to mobile deposit the check into his savings account in about 30 seconds. Was that unintentionally rude? Should he have waited for her to leave and then complete the mobile deposit? I’m not sure of parental best ethos in situations like that.

I tend to over-analyze and second-guess myself, and those annoying traits seep into my digital practices. For example, I received a Hello Fresh coupon and decided to check it out. I clicked to get started, and then chose one of three types of baskets. I entered my shipping information, and noticed a first-time user promo code applied to the order. The dollar amount and “click here to pay” stopped me in my tracks. What exactly am I ordering, and is a subscription required? I wasn’t sure. Which is the better deal – the first-time user code or my coupon? Five minutes later, I figured out that the coupon I received in the mail reduced the cost by $5 more. I still haven’t placed my order. For me, the Hello Fresh site needs stronger pathos to persuade me to give it a try.

I’m rather introverted; I supposed it comes with the writer territory. I tend to stay within the sites that won’t generate a corporate security alert, and don’t view viral videos until they make the Today show the next morning. Cooking and home-canning in a house of boys isn’t exactly a team sport.

Like I said, I really should get out more.

References

Spadaccia, K. (2015, November 15). Yes, I can: The research behind home canning. [Web log post]. Retrieved from https://krisspadaccia.com/2015/11/02/yes-i-can-the-research-behind-home-canning/

Spadaccia, K. About [Web log post]. Retrieved from https://krisspadaccia.com/about/

(These opinions reflect only those of the author.)