Our Perceptions of Others—Fixed or Not?
Photo by Sam Howzit
A friend and I had dinner recently, and we got to talking about perceptions of people and how folks see us. Sometimes we form an opinion of a person and keep them stuck as this two-dimensional caricature in our heads. We may be surprised later to learn that there’s more to them than we thought.
Years ago, I would go out blues dancing regularly. My dancer friends and I would go to a bar or restaurant where a band was playing. We were their groupies, I guess you could say. During breaks, the musicians would hang out with us. They’d play solos and riffs in songs, and we’d respond through our dancing. I could be up late dancing at night and feel better the next day for it than if I’d stayed home and gone to bed at a reasonable hour. The social connection, the physical activity, and the creative aspect contributed to that. And I enjoyed knowing that this small group of people thought I was nice, kind, and fun. They only saw this one part of me. I needed to know people could see me as nice and kind.
Other people might only have seen me at work as a project manager. I was feeling stuck and getting burned out. Often my job meant telling clients no to changes. Days and evenings were spent working; I would talk to clients by day and offshore developers by night. The work became rote for me. Sarcasm and frustration became a norm amongst project managers in my office. I acted professionally and kept my personal life private. When I left that company, my boss acknowledged my ability “to play the game.” I’ve reflected on that comment over the years and questioned if that’s how I want to be or not.
Not so many years ago, a few colleagues and I were talking at the office. Of the group, I tended to be the most fact-based, organized, and dare I say, critical. I hold high standards for myself and for others, and I get things done. Competence is my jam. And it’s very easy to say that with all of this, I am judgmental. As I learned more about professional coaching and practiced it, I learned how to hold judgments more loosely and explore them differently. At one point in time, I named the critical part of me “Judgie McJudgerson” in order to talk about it more easily with others. Naming it made it easier for me to let some of that go and find other ways of being. Naming it sometimes feels like I glued that caricature to me permanently in the eyes of my coworkers though. Jokes about how critical I am don’t fit me as well as they used to. They’re much less funny.
We each have a limited view of those around us. I think of it like being able to see only one side of a Rubik’s cube. That one side might be a solid color—so we only see Judgie McJudgerson—or it might contain many different colors or aspects about them. When we see them as predominantly one way, our perception can become fixed; we create a role in our heads for them based on this two-dimensional character we see them as. We may unintentionally hurt them with our comments about how they are and aren’t in our eyes. And like any role, it might be one that they outgrow or reject over time. Some other part of them takes more stage time, and our perceptions hopefully shift accordingly.
There’s an open space principle that I think we could do well to embrace here: prepare to be surprised. While there’s more talk now than ever about people bringing their whole selves to work and embracing authenticity, I sometimes notice the conversations that don’t happen for that to be true. We don’t realize who around us is grieving or struggling with personal issues. We may not recognize the character growth and emotional intelligence someone near us brings. It is convenient to think of people as jesters or incompetent leaders. How would we know when we’re wrong in our view?
