ON INVISIBILITY: PART II
Have you seen the Volkswagen ad where the classic beetle sits forlornly in the corner, headlights glaring, while the “curvaceously scene stealing” newest model glows eerily in the foreground? The beetle asks, “What am I, invisible?” I had to laugh when I came across it last week, while thumbing through the January issue of “Food & Wine.”
All Diversity Moms of color have to know just how that poor, neglected little bug feels. I certainly have asked the same question – for instance, when am in a store, talking with a salesperson, and a majority person jumps in with a question or order as if you’re not there. Heck, that happened to me just this morning when I went for coffee and tried to order a muffin to go with it. Or how about when you’re watching your child do some sort of activity and another mother slides in right in front of you so that she can watch hers?
A friend, who is Asian, told me about when she was eight months pregnant with her second child and went to pick up her son at some special high-priced art class. Waddling into the waiting area a few minutes early, she looked around, hoping for a place to sit. Not only were all of the chairs taken, the women sitting in them didn’t even look up. “They just stared straight ahead, no eye contact,” said my friend, “or they kept on chatting amongst themselves.” But then, when her son emerged from the classroom shouting “Mommy,” lo and behold the veils magically lifted from their eyes and “suddenly, all at once” – and far to late to be of any use – “four or five mothers offered up their seats.”
Years ago, I began to notice that no matter where I stood in a line – airport, bank, you name it – people always seemed to cut through it right in front of me. At first, I thought it was something in my demeanor, that maybe I came across as too meek, so I tried to put a little don’t-mess-with-me into my expression and stance. And still they consistently singled me out as the passageway, as if I were wearing an arrow. Intrigued by the regularity of this phenomenon, I started stepping close enough to kiss the person in front of me whenever I saw someone headed my way. At airports, I set my suitcase up as an obstacle; didn’t work. Rather than seek out another route, more often than not they would look momentarily perplexed, maybe say, “Excuse me, “ but always work their way through.
So really, what are we, invisible? Well, of course not. I can’t really speak for the others, but people definitely saw me in those lines. No, there’s something else at work in all of these cases that goes deeper, and this is my message, what I want people to wake up and understand is still happening. Like in the song from the ancient rock musical “Tommy,” sometimes I just want start singing: “See me, Feel me, Touch me, Heal me.” With my awful voice, someone might finally notice I’m there.
All Diversity Moms of color have to know just how that poor, neglected little bug feels. I certainly have asked the same question – for instance, when am in a store, talking with a salesperson, and a majority person jumps in with a question or order as if you’re not there. Heck, that happened to me just this morning when I went for coffee and tried to order a muffin to go with it. Or how about when you’re watching your child do some sort of activity and another mother slides in right in front of you so that she can watch hers?
A friend, who is Asian, told me about when she was eight months pregnant with her second child and went to pick up her son at some special high-priced art class. Waddling into the waiting area a few minutes early, she looked around, hoping for a place to sit. Not only were all of the chairs taken, the women sitting in them didn’t even look up. “They just stared straight ahead, no eye contact,” said my friend, “or they kept on chatting amongst themselves.” But then, when her son emerged from the classroom shouting “Mommy,” lo and behold the veils magically lifted from their eyes and “suddenly, all at once” – and far to late to be of any use – “four or five mothers offered up their seats.”
Years ago, I began to notice that no matter where I stood in a line – airport, bank, you name it – people always seemed to cut through it right in front of me. At first, I thought it was something in my demeanor, that maybe I came across as too meek, so I tried to put a little don’t-mess-with-me into my expression and stance. And still they consistently singled me out as the passageway, as if I were wearing an arrow. Intrigued by the regularity of this phenomenon, I started stepping close enough to kiss the person in front of me whenever I saw someone headed my way. At airports, I set my suitcase up as an obstacle; didn’t work. Rather than seek out another route, more often than not they would look momentarily perplexed, maybe say, “Excuse me, “ but always work their way through.
So really, what are we, invisible? Well, of course not. I can’t really speak for the others, but people definitely saw me in those lines. No, there’s something else at work in all of these cases that goes deeper, and this is my message, what I want people to wake up and understand is still happening. Like in the song from the ancient rock musical “Tommy,” sometimes I just want start singing: “See me, Feel me, Touch me, Heal me.” With my awful voice, someone might finally notice I’m there.
I used to be invisible… and then I turned 50 a few years ago. Something snapped in me. I no longer accept being invisible. … If someone begins to walk in front of me when I am in line, I graciously step forward and announce loudly … Would you like to pass thru? (Pause for effect while they compose themselves, after all, I was invisible and we don’t expect comments from blank space) then add, “Let me make room for you” and turn so that they can pass behind. It takes a bit more effort than fuming silently, but I gain an internal smile, the walker and everyone else within ear shot learns a lesson… a win-win. Pretty much the same thing happens when I am in a store. Interrupt my transaction with a question and I sweetly (broad smile that showcases my $15,000 in veneers)announce that “we aren’t quite finished here, but God willing, we will be in just a few minutes and then Alice (I find it effective to use the sales person’s name) can help you”. Again, everyone within ear shot learns a lesson… a win-win. I actually developed these skills when my children attended elite elementary and secondary schools in the Los Angeles area. However, I was more selective about using this blunt approach then. Each year, until all of the parents knew me, I had to set one parent (occasionally a faculty member) in their place. After that one "setting", it was smooth sailing. At that time, I was motivated by the bill that I had to pay bi annually… and the fact that I was not beholding to anyone since they weren’t paying it... A new concept at schools where an entertainment industry hierarchy exists that is built on who is producing what and who is under consideration for a particular film. I am no longer selective about using these skills. I wasn’t born invisible; I had/have no intension of starting at this point in my life.
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