This made me think about the recent experience of several years when I became a caregiver for my husband, who recently died. One of the things I noted with great sadness as his condition progressed, was how easy it was for people to simply ignore him, seated in a wheelchair beside me and talk just to me.
It made me so indignant on his behalf! He was there, he was cogent and listening. It might have been difficult for him to pull words to the surface, but he was definitely "in there," understanding every word that was said. I became adept at focusing on him to give him time to reply to the acquaintances and professionals who were instead expecting ME to answer their questions--quickly. This was a person who had led an active and productive life as a medical professional, as a manager, as an active volunteer in his community, as a partner, as a father and grandfather. Talking "about" him rather than "to" him diminished all that he had been, all that he still WAS, and made him an object (of pity, which he did not want) rather than as a living, breathing, human being with feelings!
Dear Pat, I know exactly what you are talking about!! I went to almost all of Susan's medical appointments with her for about 4 years, and there was a marked difference between doctors who talked directly to her, and those who looked right through her and addressed questions to me. They were in a hurry and didn't want to wait for her to gather her thoughts and respond. (That was NOT an excuse.) But like Dave, she had been a competent professional (university budget officer) in her work life, and deeply resented being looked through. It led to the firing of several doctors who just couldn't get it. One was even a geriatrician, who was supposed to have known better. But Susan also had some great ones who focused on her. After this happened enough times and we figured out the pattern, I consciously tried to sit quietly in the background, taking notes. But some of them tried to pull me in anyway. Oh my gosh --- remembering such difficult experiences. Hugs, my friend.
Hal, the sculptures & your writing, evoke a range of feelings & thoughts not easily expressed. This is likely why the images are so powerful. Being here in India, where I do not speak the language of my students or the masses of people on the streets I travel on or in the stores I've frequented, I experience a kind of not being seen...like a vaper in the crowd. Strangely, it does not bother me, I'm an observer of my - and the - human experience. Equally true, is how effortlessly I can view the room of 72 young women before me as a crowd I "look through" as I painstakeingly make my "point" in a lecture. The imagery calls to me, "Am I looking through them as a collective, and missing each individual soul?" Then the opportunity arises to seek to "see" each one as uniguely themselves - and to honor that I am, too. Thanks, Hal.
Thanks, Jane, for this beautiful reflection. Yes, the sculptures are incredibly evocative. I was just transfixed and kept walking around and around them. I love your point about considering how you regard and interact with the sea of eager faces in your class. When I used to teach large classes (200+), I always told students on the first day that, even though they might feel totally anonymous, I could see each of them as individuals and was glad I could. I remembered feeling that way (totally anonymous) when I was an undergrad in large lecture classes (up to 500), but I never recall a professor trying to really see me - or anyone else. I wish our sculptor could know of the conversations that his piece is evoking!
This made me think about the recent experience of several years when I became a caregiver for my husband, who recently died. One of the things I noted with great sadness as his condition progressed, was how easy it was for people to simply ignore him, seated in a wheelchair beside me and talk just to me.
It made me so indignant on his behalf! He was there, he was cogent and listening. It might have been difficult for him to pull words to the surface, but he was definitely "in there," understanding every word that was said. I became adept at focusing on him to give him time to reply to the acquaintances and professionals who were instead expecting ME to answer their questions--quickly. This was a person who had led an active and productive life as a medical professional, as a manager, as an active volunteer in his community, as a partner, as a father and grandfather. Talking "about" him rather than "to" him diminished all that he had been, all that he still WAS, and made him an object (of pity, which he did not want) rather than as a living, breathing, human being with feelings!
Dear Pat, I know exactly what you are talking about!! I went to almost all of Susan's medical appointments with her for about 4 years, and there was a marked difference between doctors who talked directly to her, and those who looked right through her and addressed questions to me. They were in a hurry and didn't want to wait for her to gather her thoughts and respond. (That was NOT an excuse.) But like Dave, she had been a competent professional (university budget officer) in her work life, and deeply resented being looked through. It led to the firing of several doctors who just couldn't get it. One was even a geriatrician, who was supposed to have known better. But Susan also had some great ones who focused on her. After this happened enough times and we figured out the pattern, I consciously tried to sit quietly in the background, taking notes. But some of them tried to pull me in anyway. Oh my gosh --- remembering such difficult experiences. Hugs, my friend.
Hal, the sculptures & your writing, evoke a range of feelings & thoughts not easily expressed. This is likely why the images are so powerful. Being here in India, where I do not speak the language of my students or the masses of people on the streets I travel on or in the stores I've frequented, I experience a kind of not being seen...like a vaper in the crowd. Strangely, it does not bother me, I'm an observer of my - and the - human experience. Equally true, is how effortlessly I can view the room of 72 young women before me as a crowd I "look through" as I painstakeingly make my "point" in a lecture. The imagery calls to me, "Am I looking through them as a collective, and missing each individual soul?" Then the opportunity arises to seek to "see" each one as uniguely themselves - and to honor that I am, too. Thanks, Hal.
Thanks, Jane, for this beautiful reflection. Yes, the sculptures are incredibly evocative. I was just transfixed and kept walking around and around them. I love your point about considering how you regard and interact with the sea of eager faces in your class. When I used to teach large classes (200+), I always told students on the first day that, even though they might feel totally anonymous, I could see each of them as individuals and was glad I could. I remembered feeling that way (totally anonymous) when I was an undergrad in large lecture classes (up to 500), but I never recall a professor trying to really see me - or anyone else. I wish our sculptor could know of the conversations that his piece is evoking!
Thanks, Hal!