To Be Seen or Not To Be Seen
That is the question
The other day I saw my daughter holding up a piece of a broken shovel to a bigger kid. It was a hot, dry day at the “sand park” (it has a real name but, it’s the park with a sand pit). My daughter wanted to give for probably more than one reason; maybe to be helpful? Maybe so the other kid would notice her?
But the bigger kid, oblivious to my daughter, walked away. My daughter went about her business, but I went over and gave her a pat. I wanted her to know that I see her.
What are we all here for?
There are too many reasons to enumerate that we exist. There’s the unbroken chain of mothers before us. There’s the quirks of biology that gave us our eyes and our bodies, which helped us survive despite being slower and weaker than many of our zoologic cousins.
But with our eyes and our large frontal lobes came a desire that pierces us to the core of our being.
To be seen.
And I don’t mean literally seen (there he is, get him!). I mean noticed. Appreciated.
Cherished.
Desired.
To be seen is to tap into what it means to be human. To be part of a group, a tribe, a relationship. Those who see you are extending an invitation into their lives that is unlike anything else.
The difference between a friend and an acquaintance, between a loved one and a fling, between a coworker and a teammate, is crossing this barrier of being seen and seeing them. You open yourself up in the hope that others will open up to you.
People who are seen prosper. They become the greatest versions of themselves, buoyed by the support of those who see them. They rise to higher standards, instead of falling the standards of being unseen.
What happens when we aren’t seen?
My belief is we get the worst out of people when we don’t see them. I don’t think this explains everyone’s behavior, but I think it does explain when people act out, especially as kids.
I’ve been on my phone, ignoring my daughter on more than one occasion (I mean I’m Millenial, I wear my phone addiction like a beard with bits of avocado toast still in it). But ignoring her only lasts so long; she feels she’s not being seen, so she either:
- Joins me by getting her own device, her little iPad
- Absolutely going nuts and destroying something
Neither option is good, but (2) is definitely not something any of us want. And I can see teenagers and adults who act exactly the same way because they’re not seen. They behave horribly just in the hope that someone will notice them; “any publicity is good publicity.”
When I went to high school, there were signs everywhere that said “Character is who you are when no one is watching.” I liked the sentiment, but I think it needs an addendum: you build character by having someone who sees you help shape your behavior. A strong role model who sees you is the difference between your best self and your worst self.
Automation and technology doesn’t help us be seen
The technology we surround ourselves has many drawbacks, but I think one of its principal failings is not allowing us to be seen.
Humans are expert eyeline trackers. It’s why we have so much whites in our eyes, so we can see when people are looking at us vs. looking past us. Technology strongly enables us to look past one another.
- Cars present these anonymous boxes that we can be angry at
- Our names/photos are boxes we can fling invectives at online
- When we’re on video calls, we look at the screen, even though our eyes need be looking at the camera for us to “meet eyes”
Even “being seen” online isn’t measured by appreciating an individual, but “liking” their content.
These are dopamine hits, not oxytocin, not the thing that build trust and strong bonds.
These tools give us the ability to move great distances and share information over the planet, but they cost us part of our humanity and our lives.
What can we do?
I’m not asking us to throw all our phones and cars into the bin (although that would be nice), but instead show you’re appreciation in ways that matter to our primate brains.
- Look people in the eyes and praise them when they do something well
- (ALSO) Look people in the eyes when you want to tell them how they could do better
- Look people in the eyes when you pay them a compliment, a specific compliment too, not just “good job”
When I look at my daughter and say “I really like how straight your lines are” or “that’s a really pretty road you made,” she genuinely lights up.
I try to look her in the eyes when telling her “we don’t scratch the wall with the backscratcher.”
She needs to know that I see her, through good and bad. We all do.
