In middle school my classmates and I were obsessed with Google Earth. Whenever we went to the computer lab for class and finished early, it was one of our go-to sites for time-killing entertainment.
We would search our addresses, always astounded when we could find our homes in Nowhere, Nevada.
We were amazed that, as small and insignificant as we seemed when looking at the entire globe, we could be seen. Our little town in Southern Nevada was known, if only by the Google car that drove through it.
Isn’t that exactly what many of us want? What we crave? To be seen? For someone to look into our eyes as if to say, “I see you”? For someone to find the pieces of us nobody else takes the time to notice?
Recently I had a conversation with a friend about our experiences serving with different groups of people: the homeless community, foster children, refugees. These groups we have served are those who are often labeled, given a badge of damage.
But when you make a genuine connection, the reality of the humanity you both possess comes out; you are both flawed beings with something meaningful to give. A connection is made, and you both have a greater sense of belonging in this insane world of ours.
The belonging you are nurturing is crucial, according to some psychologists. Take Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. It has five tiers: physiological, safety, love and belonging, esteem, self-actualization.
In order to fulfil the next level of needs, one must meet the one below it. Past the needs for food, water and shelter, we encounter those of love and belonging. When we are loved and feel as though we belong, we have a foundation to build our self-esteem and esteem among others.
Think about that for a moment. Beyond the physical needs to survive, the most basic need is to belong. To be loved. To be seen.
A common complaint is that we are, “alone in a room full of people.” We are lonely, but not alone. We feel invisible, like wallflowers watching life happen without us.
How is it that many of us continuously say the same things, yet refuse to change the very patterns we wish society would break? How is it that we know and understand the pain and emptiness associated with not being seen, yet continue to live lives ignoring those who may be experiencing the same?
We look down at our phones when passing another person on the walkway. We distract ourselves at stoplights to avoid making eye contact with the homeless woman on the corner. We project labels onto people we don’t understand to justify our avoidance of them.
We hide our faces so we do not have to recognize another person’s humanity.
If Maslow is correct and our esteem and self-actualization are built upon our belonging, imagine the damage we are potentially causing ourselves and others when we hide away. You may be around people, talking and laughing, but are you carving out a place to belong?
Or bouncing along the surface? Are you creating a space in yourself where others can find love and belonging through intentional human connection? Or hiding behind your own fear, stereotypes and comfort?
Google Earth was a strange love of mine because it made me feel like I belonged somehow. I hope to bring the same feeling to those I interact with; I hope to make people feel seen.