on mirrors and voices

To hear Brandi read this essay instead, click here: https://youtu.be/M3I3-ng5PrY

A friend told me recently that everyone agreed it was really great that I was embracing my gray hair.

Aren’t friends great?!

Today I’d like to talk about the tensions between how we see ourselves in the world and how others see us in the world. When I received this kind affirmation, I felt a few things: Baffled by the unasked-for endorsement of a choice I didn’t know I was making. Annoyed that “everyone” had discussed my non-choice. Amused at the type of math a person does before telling another person what I had been told.

Mostly though, I felt like that’s about right for how I move through the world. I regularly leave the rest room at work shocked by the revelation of the mirror. How have I walked through the day not knowing about my hair and face situations?

We recently got a full length mirror, the first one we have had since moving to Nashville 15 years ago. It has been…disorienting. Because I often don’t know what I actually look like, it is strange to see my full self every morning. It has reminded me that I am perceived as often as I perceive. Apparently, all day I interact with other people whose eyes work. This is a ridiculous revelation, but it feels like one. I have spent a lot of my adult life learning to seek out and learn from the perspectives of others, de-centering and tempering my own my thoughts with their experiences. And yet, a simple mirror in my bathroom has shocked me by reminding me that I am biased toward my own perspective every minute of the day.

What do we do with the fact that we are always on display?

Walter Benjamin is a Jewish philosopher who lived and worked in the early 20th century. His thinking has shaped my own in a lot of ways, and he has relevant thoughts here. He argues, regarding art and our ability to mindlessly reproduce art, that “the public is an examiner, but an absent-minded one.” He claims that when we produce art for the purpose of public consumption, we lose authenticity. When we focus on the way we will be perceived rather than engaging in the moment as our creative, present selves, we likely diminish our connection to ourselves and others. Do you feel that? I experience it often before I speak or expose my ideas to a new crowd. Rather than celebrating the connection I feel when I find a new way of making sense of our experience, I sometimes fixate on how it will be received, who will be offended, and how I will handle the tension that arises. When I am consumed with how I look instead of how I am, it is impossible to be present with others.

Walker Percy, writing a lot later from a different context and continent, suggests that when we live lives of public display (as many of us do), we—perhaps unknowingly—“need others to certify [our] experience as genuine.” According to Percy, when we choose to see ourselves through the eyes of others, we hand our power over to them, asking them to name us as valuable, as worthy, as authentic. In so doing, what takes “place is a radical loss of sovereignty over that which is” ours. When we see ourselves in the mirror, rather than seeing the world through our eyes, we give our power away. I hope this resonates too? When I’m concerned with the reactions to my self, I lose the ability to find value in my perspective. I become consumed with where I am positioned rather than positioning myself. I can only find value if another calls me valuable, rather than living out my identity as a person made in the divine imprint, sharing a community with other creature with different points of view. When I am worried about how others see me, it is hard to see myself, let alone offer what I can to my community.

I can’t talk more about this without Michael Foucault, although I realize that in mentioning him I am getting really close to obnoxious. (I’ll make it quick and then get to the point.) Foucault helpfully describes the power of the “Gaze” to control behavior, even when the gaze-r is unknown or unseen. He describes prisons whose discipline system is founded on the Panopticon: a central tower with a line of sight into every room. Foucault says a person watching or even the possibility of being watched controls the behavior of the inmates. (Tolkien surely agreed, as his embodied metaphor for evil control was literally an all-seeing eye. Sauron, anyone?)

My college students write a paper that gives them the chance to grapple with these issues: Does engagement on social media platforms (where, one could argue, users willingly submit their lives to the eyes of others) give power to the poster or the viewer?

I want to pose a similar question to us as we think about how we live in the world. Do we sense that we are always being watched, performing for others in the choices we make, the positions we assume, the people we champion or ignore? Does the gaze of others make you question your worth? Or, do you know your own voice and respect your ability to find your path? It is terribly important to listen to the ideas of others, but not in a way the removes our ability to find our own perspectives. Our communities only work if we all contribute in sacrificial and fulfilling ways. To do that, you need to find your voice, your passion, your purpose. You can’t do that by obsessing over your reflection; you have to pay attention to what you see out of your experience.

Mirrors are helpful. Noticing how I am perceived by others can make me kinder and more supportive of those around me. When the voices of others are louder than my voice, however, I’m afraid I begin to lose my sovereignty, my power. I diminish my voice and sense of meaningful calling, replacing it with the alleged thoughts of others. When I make choices and take stances in order to please those who seem to be in the know, I chase an uncatchable rabbit. Performing for others becomes a greedy way of life, and as I chase the approval of the all-seeing eye, I lose the ability to name my own thoughts or convictions. When this happens, we all lose because every voice matters, including yours.

Weigh the balance between how you see and how you think you are seen. Step away from the mirror, and get to know your own voice. We need your kind of you in the world, so consider this my invitation for you to step into your own circle and share your story. Battle for yourself, and remember you matter. Do not let the gaze of others make you small. Stand tall and speak up so your voice adds to the symphony we share!