I've been thinking a lot about recognition lately—what it actually means to recognize another person, what we tend to call recognition, and whether the distinction matters.
Recognition in present-day society seems to be largely downstream from the expression of value through achievement, giftedness, or some other quality we have collectively decided is desirable.
We tell kids that we recognize them for their "uniqueness," their intrinsic merit, or their "specialness." But what they may inadvertently learn is that the recognition they seek most reliably comes when they are measurably different from or superior to their average peer, usually in an area where a consensus already exists about the value of what they're being recognized for.
We recognize the smart kid for being smart. The athlete for being athletic. The funny kid for being funny. The unusually thoughtful kid for being unusually thoughtful.
Even when we try to move away from achievement—by telling a child how kind or creative or emotionally intelligent they are—we may still be operating within basically the same system. We identify something about them, determine that it has value, and then recognize them for possessing it.
I'm becoming increasingly interested in whether recognition should mean something very different.
Should recognition require us to first determine the value of what we're seeing?
What if recognition is simply our willingness to acknowledge that something exists in another person and to become curious about it?
A child who is recognized primarily for the parts of themselves that other people find valuable doesn't only learn what they're good at. They may also begin learning which parts of themselves are most likely to result in being seen.
And inevitably there will be other parts.
The jealous part. The angry part. The scared part. The selfish part. The confused part. The part that doesn't know why it feels what it feels. The part that wants something it "shouldn't" want. The part that contradicts another part.
What happens to those?
I don't think recognition requires us to approve of them. I don't even think it requires us to understand them.
It might be enough to say: I see that this is here. I believe there is a reason it's here. I don't need to know what that reason is yet in order to be interested in finding out.
This is also why I'm beginning to think recognition may be different from validation and even empathy.
Validation can still depend on another person determining that my experience makes sense. Empathy can depend on another person's ability to imagine or relate to what I'm experiencing.
Recognition can exist even when neither of those things is possible.
I can recognize that I don't understand your experience. I can recognize that my inability to understand it probably has implications for what it is like for you to move through the world. I can recognize that something may be true about your experience that I don't yet have access to.
In that sense, recognition isn't necessarily an endpoint. It may be the thing that allows understanding to begin.
Maybe recognition is less about saying I see what is special about you and more about saying I am willing to see what is here.
And I wonder what happens to a person who grows up believing they don't have to become exceptional—or even understandable—in order to be seen.