Filters

The optometrist flips lenses and asks, “Does it look better with this…or with that?” One view looks wavy, a second out of focus, a third clearer but still a bit blurry. The doctor narrows the selection until she arrives at a proper prescription.

That’s how it works in theory, but the last time I got new glasses something went wrong. I drove home struggling to see the instrument panel on the dashboard. A headache began to arise before I’d driven two miles. I wondered whether I’d get used to the glasses, but after an hour at home I knew that I’d have to go back.

The optometrist got it right the second time, thank God. However, the experience of trying to function with maladjusted lenses made me wonder whether other sorts of filters distort my vision. I know that past experiences color my outlook, make me suspicious when witnessing behavior that appears, at first glance, to be unpleasantly familiar. A word, a gesture can trigger alarms. If I’m clear-headed, I wait to see how a situation plays out before reacting inappropriately. A recent example: a new preacher’s chiding sermon doesn’t mean that he’s the reincarnation of the grumpy, judgmental priest who served the church I attended as a boy.

I’ve also experienced the reverse. My appearance and manner have triggered negative reactions in some of my students. I say a few words at the beginning of the first class and notice someone glaring at me. Everything I do or say from that point on confirms his or her initial impression. It doesn’t matter how vigilantly I maintain an attitude of helpful patience. I’ve gradually learned that the less I engage with a hostile student, the better. A diplomatically neutral tone must be sustained, if possible, even in the presence of snarky rebellion.

I no longer try to fix what’s irreparably broken. But I’ve found that some eventually notice I mean them no harm, that the instruction is actually useful. Some are capable of seeing their own biases if I refuse to respond in kind to their defensive incivility. I function best when giving them a chance to notice the distortions in their vision.

Anthony De Mello preaches the virtues of awareness. I believe that he wants us to observe the world carefully with fresh eyes. And he wants us to watch our mental filters in action as we look and react. I’m not anywhere near clearness, but sometimes I can hear a click as another lens flips into place.