The Mask of First Impressions

I’ve been wrong about a lot of things, people especially.

There was the widow I visited in Kenya. Her house was little more than a hut, a jumble of mud and sticks. “Surely, there’s nothing of value in there,” I thought. But I was wrong. The woman blew me away with her hospitality. She served me tea and biscuits—despite not having much of either. She made me feel welcome. She gave me her story. In the midst of her poverty, she treated me with grace and humanity.

There was the woman in downtown Chicago. “She’s probably been homeless for awhile. She’s just asking for a handout.” I thought. But when I took the time to hear her story, I found the opposite. Her place of employment went out of business and she’d lost her job, her apartment, and nearly everything she owned. Asking for money on the streets brought her shame and humiliation. Hearing her longing to be seen as a person again left me with tears.

There was the barista at a local coffee shop. “He’s probably just a college student, working a low-paying job to cover the bills,” I thought. Except he wasn’t. As I heard him talk to another customer, I realized he was competing in an upcoming barista competition. He was serious about coffee. He was serious about his job. And when I chatted briefly with him, he seemed like a cool guy too.

Over and over again, I make assumptions and judgments about other people. Over and over again, I’m proven wrong. People aren’t who I expect them to be. They defy my efforts to categorize or label them.

***

toss away gray stones
because they fail to glisten
diamonds hide within

Labels, assumptions, and first impressions are useful. They let me process my environment and those in it quickly and efficiently. Without simplification, the complexity would overwhelm me.

The problem is I come to view the label as reality. I forget the world is more complex. Multiple experiences, environmental factors, values, and beliefs make up each individual.

My viewpoint is by definition limited. I can only see through my eyes. When I look at other people, I see what’s on the outside. But the real motivations and beliefs remain hidden.

Holding to this false reality creates distance between me and the other person. It causes me to miss out on their beauty, grace, value, and skill. Because I’m blinded by my assumptions and categorizations, I weaken my ability to serve, to show compassion, to connect, and to make a difference.

***

hunter of treasure
with her open eyes to see
gold hidden from sight

To go beneath the mask of first impressions—to see people as they are—cultivate an open mind.

Allow the possibility of being wrong. Your knowledge of others is in constant flux. You gain new information each moment—some of which may invalidate your initial assessment and impressions. There is no shame in changing your opinion of someone based on new understanding.

Strive to understand. Listen to what people have to say. Pay attention to how they act. Ask questions. Why did they act that way? What do they hold sacred? Why are they in the place they are in? What do they want?

Assume people are good and worthy. It’s impossible to avoid labels altogether. But you can assign a positive one to start with. Give people an expectation to live up to. Let them prove you right.

Change how you describe people. Instead of calling a person poor or homeless, call them someone who is poor or someone who is homeless. Doing so is a reminder that they are first a someone—they are a human being and have value. It’s a small change. But small changes can have a big effect.

***

As I approach the grocery store, I spy a man leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. “That jerk,” I start to think, “He’s so inconsiderate to me and everyone else.”

But I catch myself.

He’s more than a smoker. He’s a person, and he has a story worth respecting. I should treat him as such.

I smile at him as I pass.

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