Today’s photos provided by my guest photographer and husband, Pat.
Today, I did a volunteer gig instead of eating lunch. The company I work for provided a grant to fund taking an educational program using birds of prey to underfunded schools that can’t afford special programs. I’m psyched about having the opportunity to work with both the kids and the birds.
But, when I arrived at the school, I got a text message from one my best friends in the world, Gina. She was having a bad day. Her text to me was representative of something I feel all the time. It was along the lines of “I feel invisible.” Dismissed, unheard, unimportant, irrelevant.
These are the words that describe the worst feelings any person who regards herself as a valuable asset in the workplace can have, except maybe fired. But, I suspect it’s the fear of being fired and what that represents to us that makes these feelings so difficult to deal with. We all want to feel indispensable. Invisible and indispensable don’t work in the same sentence (except, of course, this one).
I returned from vacation vaguely disappointed that the entire company didn’t come to a halt while I was gone. It hurts my ego to realize the company didn’t even skip a beat.
But there I was, about to meet two 3rd grade classes with a bunch of birds and I’m getting this text that reminds me about my own fears of inadequacy in a corporate, adult world that often feels foreign to me.
I set my phone aside and focus on the event at hand. The 3rd graders file in and the program begins. The children are fascinated. They smile, laugh, and look amazed. Not mildly interested and politely faking amazement. No, they ARE amazed. And I don’t mean that in the over-used, can’t-think-of-a-better-word sort of amazed. I mean they were surprised and delighted that something so wondrous as the opportunity to pet a Screech Owl and feed a Black Vulture was happening to them.
And then, they start raising their hands. They want to be called on. As each takes their turn, it becomes evident they often don’t know the answer to the question they volunteered to answer or they don’t actually have a question even though that’s why they were supposedly raising their hand.
I had the sudden realization that these were children who feared invisibility. They raised their hands not because they had something to say but because they didn’t want to disappear in the crowd of their peers or the rules of their teachers who seemed to largely focus on making sure they behaved.
Behaving seemed to be an act of making oneself invisible. But raising your hand, speaking out, those are acceptable actions that allow you to stand alone and be recognized. A statement of being worthwhile, important, relevant, and noticeable.
It all suddenly seemed so simple–it’s all about raising your hand.