Hey, look at me

My friend Bob and I were sitting on the bleachers just outside the racquetball court and trying to catch our breath between games. A group of race-running, soccer-ball kicking, tricycle-riding, and twirling-dancing preschool children spread out across the basketball court set the air abuzz with an energy I envy and filled the gym with squeals and laughter. 

Several brave and curious children came near us and looked at us as if we were bears in a zoo. A couple of them growled at us. A few said, “Watch this!” or “Hey, look at me,” as they tossed a ball in the air and caught it, or ran a few yards and slid as if they were stealing second-base, or pedaled their trikes away in high gear. Of course, we told them that what they did was “amazing.”

I’ve been thinking about how often grown-ups say a version of “Watch this!” and “Hey, look at me.” All of us long to be seen and heard for who we truly are, to have our gifts affirmed and our talents validated, and to hear people whom we respect and admire (or whom we fear and envy) tell us that we’ve gotten their attention in some way.