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Being a chameleon, and one's self
15 years ago
Well we had an interesting discussion at work today about the importance of being a chameleon. I work in marketing, and today we had a speaker come in and discuss sales tactics. The one lesson that struck a peculiar chord with me was about mimicking your surroundings in order to fit in and make the customer more comfortable.
Some thought this was a rather difficult task. I can only speculate as to why, but I’d assume it was because they never once pondered their actions as a person. They never noticed their tonality, their posture, word usage, expressions, mannerisms, or their clothing style. They probably never had to see themselves from the “other.”
Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I’m half black, gay, introverted, intelligent, and have lived in mostly small conservative towns for most of my life. And that doesn't include the half of it. I cannot begin to tell you the difficulties of attempting to fit in. Having to pull off straight, or act as nothing happened at every slur thrown my way, or be “just one of you folk.”
Blending in is something that I have been aware of my entire life, even as a child. How is my posture, how did I say that last line, and what am I dressing in? It has become so pervasive and consuming; I can barely function without thinking about it. I can’t recall a time in my life that I did not question any action I made.
I turn to a co-worker and tell him the secret, “have a secret so life-changing you’ll know of no other way to live than blending in.” After his cautious grin, I turn away and follow the discussion.
Some people have trouble being someone else for a few hours. Some, like me, can’t fathom being themselves any day.
Some thought this was a rather difficult task. I can only speculate as to why, but I’d assume it was because they never once pondered their actions as a person. They never noticed their tonality, their posture, word usage, expressions, mannerisms, or their clothing style. They probably never had to see themselves from the “other.”
Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I’m half black, gay, introverted, intelligent, and have lived in mostly small conservative towns for most of my life. And that doesn't include the half of it. I cannot begin to tell you the difficulties of attempting to fit in. Having to pull off straight, or act as nothing happened at every slur thrown my way, or be “just one of you folk.”
Blending in is something that I have been aware of my entire life, even as a child. How is my posture, how did I say that last line, and what am I dressing in? It has become so pervasive and consuming; I can barely function without thinking about it. I can’t recall a time in my life that I did not question any action I made.
I turn to a co-worker and tell him the secret, “have a secret so life-changing you’ll know of no other way to live than blending in.” After his cautious grin, I turn away and follow the discussion.
Some people have trouble being someone else for a few hours. Some, like me, can’t fathom being themselves any day.
