F

ile away those fun 
facts. Time to forget 
your 
“two 
truths 

and 
a 
lie.” 
And 

cherish the fact you won’t have 
to participate in another team 
building exercise involving a 
hula hoop. We have officially 
survived peak icebreaker period. 
Breathe. 

September is over. The month 

of new beginnings is behind 
us. The flower calendar on my 
grandmother’s 
refrigerator 

has flipped to October. Those 
awkward first days of classes 
and inaugural club meetings 
have morphed into hopefully 
a more authentic dynamic of 
human 
personalities. 
Or, 
if 

things are still awkward among 
the 20 people in your discussion 
section, you can at least take 
solace in the “31 Nights of 
Halloween” on Freeform.

As 
someone 
whose 
first 

impressions rarely parlay into 
an 
effortlessly 
charismatic 

“knock your socks” off kind of 
introduction, the icebreaker is 
a walk on thin ice. If I could, I 
would prefer to stick to the facts 
you could probably find on Facebook. Name. 
Hometown. Year. Major. There you have it 
folks. That’s all you need to know about me. 
Anything more than this will likely result 
in an answer that I will promptly spend the 
next 48 hours regretting. Do we really need 
to continue with that question about my 
best Halloween costume? 

That is the trouble with icebreakers. To 

excel at them, it is essential that you have 
a curated list of anecdotes encoded in your 
brain. A quippy story about yourself that 
your publicist would tell you to share if you 
were a scheduled as a guest on Stephen 
Colbert’s TV show. Or does the publicist 
make up the story for you? In that case, I 
think I need a publicist.

The sort of answer that is universal 

enough to be relatable, yet personal 
enough to be unique. Your response should 
garner a laugh, but not make people feel 
uncomfortable. And of course, you should 
never look like you are trying too hard, but 
you also can’t give a cop-out answer. People 
want to you to “be yourself.” To sum up how 
cool you are in a sentence. It is a tall order. 
Essentially, you are expected to be like 
Ferris Bueller when all I can usually muster 
is something closer to Bridget Jones.

The formulaic nature of icebreakers 

typically means forming a circle to foster 
a safe, welcoming space reminiscent of a 
second-grade classroom. Everyone sits 
waiting for the person who had this great 
idea to pose a question they likely found 
via a Google search for “good icebreaker 
questions” 30 seconds prior. Then the 

moment of truth — what question will you 
have to sift through your brain to find an 
answer to?

“What’s your favorite movie?” Okay, this 

is not too bad. Not as easy as your favorite 
place to travel, but still a softball question. 
I begin to flip through the movies I have 
watched to find an acceptable answer. I 
find myself only half-paying attention to 
the person droning on about “Moonrise 
Kingdom,” buying me a few more precious 
seconds to think. As my turn creeps closer 
and closer, the panic sets in. I struggle to 
even remember the last movie I watched, 
let alone my favorite. The only movies that 
come to mind are “Mamma Mia” and “Gone 
with the Wind.” Great. I will either sound 
like a lover of cheesy British musicals or a 
cliché film buff. I decide to place my faith 

in Meryl Streep. Just before it is 
my turn to speak, the person next 
to me echoes “Mamma Mia.” My 
subpar answer I had spent the 
last five minutes agonizing over 
is now taken and I am back at the 
beginning of not knowing what to 
say. Oh, the joy of icebreakers. 

Icebreakers have become the 

creed of how we get to know each 
other. Their relatively simple 
nature is the reason they have 
become a mainstay of meetings 
and introductions. However, I am 
surely not the only one who dreads 
these 
awkward 
engagements. 

They are unnatural. Full of pauses 
and silence. And often include 
glaringly obvious reactions from 
the group.

That said, I am absolutely 

guilty of the judgment that 
ensues when someone offers an 
icebreaker response that seems 
unnatural or forced. It can be 
strange when the first thing 
you learn about a person is their 
favorite karaoke song or best gift 
they have ever received. What are 
we really supposed to glean from 
these responses? Some would 
argue that icebreakers offer a 

way for people to find a connection in their 
mutual similarities. However, considering 
some of my own friendships with people 
whose tastes are completely different than 
my own, I question this argument.

Learning the faces and names of the 

people you meet in September is important. 
But, I don’t think we should hold people to 
their icebreaker responses. In all honesty, 
most of my responses make me cringe 
for hours afterward. I agonize over why 
I couldn’t think of a more interesting or 
genuine answer and hope no one remembers 
what I said. Introducing yourself shouldn’t 
require a list of favorite things that you 
can sing on cue like Maria von Trapp. 
However, that might be a good idea for next 
September.

2B

Managing Statement Editor:

Brian Kuang

Deputy Editors:

Colin Beresford

Jennifer Meer

Editor in Chief:

Alexa St. John

Photo Editor:

Amelia Cacchione

Designer:

Elizabeth Bigham

Managing Editor:

Dayton Hare

Copy Editors:

Elise Laarman

Finntan Storer

Wednesday, October 3, 2018 // The Statement 

statement

THE MICHIGAN DAILY | OCTOBER 3, 2018

BY SHANNON ORS, DAILY STAFF REPORTER

ILLUSTRATION BY CHRISTINE JEGARL

Thank God September is over so we 
can be done with icebreakers

