When You are Seen

This post will be vague, and it may actually be frustratingly vague, but maybe that’s the point.

Last evening I went out for a very brief coffee with a friend. It was completely spontaneous, they texted me and asked if I could meet them on the way home from work, I could, and I did. I had not seen them in many months which is a tale of what happens when you live in the same city but have busy lives. However, this is the jar of life story they said, which is so true, because even when you think you don’t have time or it won’t fit you can always put in some sand or some water in the jar.

So here I am up at 2am because my brain is doing the gears of thoughts grinding thing and I’m rethinking all the words we managed to squeeze into 45mins. One of the things I’m thinking about is about how they make me feel seen on a different level than anyone else in my life. We share many things in common, we are educators, we are socially aware, we understand the need and importance of intersectional critique, and we are always aware of oppressive practices functioning in different spheres. We both appreciate the power of words, when words should and can be used safely, and their words are always generous, insightful, and beautiful.

Being seen is important, whether it be in familiar spaces where you are in a community of peers or in spaces where you may be the only person who feels a certain way. Being acknowledged is a wonderful feeling. So what is keeping me thinking is how they called me out on my “façadism” so to speak, for like so many new architectural renovations what the outside looks like aesthetically is not always an indication of what the inside is like. The fact that they got that without us ever speaking about the subset of this particular topic ever (and we’ve known each other for about 6 years) was validating in some very important ways. It was an insightful observation on how certain communities “read” people incorrectly and then quickly label and dismiss. I think I’ve always been read a certain way, by a certain community, and they got beyond that.

So this is to say that I had a great conversation with a friend which reinforced the need to remember that a book is much more complicated than the aesthetic cover would suggest. As well words matter, and it’s critical that we get those words right and knowing when it is safe to use certain words and when it isn’t. This means using correct pronouns, this means acknowledging the words of others through proper citational practices, and this means knowing your audience. There are many other words that I could have used instead of the vague ones I used in this post, to make what I was getting at clearer, to spell out exactly how they made me feel seen. But I can’t do that- because all spaces are not created equal, and an open blog post on the Internet is not the same as a coffee shop in east Danforth. 

The moral of the story? Tell the people around you that you care about them. Listen to them and use the words they are asking you to use. Express gratitude for the time and space you have with them. Know that sometimes you can say things that only one person in thousands will get and saying that thing for that one person is super important and necessary. And finally see them for who they are and not who you think they should be- that is a precious gift we can all give each other.