On being … invisible

By Ingrid Sapona

The other day I was meeting a friend for dinner after work and I decided to walk to the restaurant because it was a lovely summer day. Rather than taking the most direct route, I decided to walk through the University of Toronto campus. Whenever I go through the campus, I take note of the different banners that adorn the light stanchions. I’ve always loved such banners: they’re festive and they’re always a signal that something special’s happening or coming.

In the case of the banners around U of T, they remind passers-by of the importance and benefits of the University. For example, some banners feature the name of a prominent alum or faculty member along with information about that individual’s achievements. Others promote discoveries that are somehow related to the University, like Banting and Best’s discovery of insulin.

Because of my extended, leisurely stroll through the campus, that afternoon I read all the banners I came across. There was a series of banners with the word BOUNDLESS across the bottom. All of them seemed to relate to research I figure was being done at the University. One in particular caught my eye – it read: INVISIBILITY: SCIENCE FACT OR SCIENCE FICTION? It also featured a drawing clearly meaning to conjure up Harry Potter’s cloak of invisibility.

I loved that the banner did exactly what I imagine the banner designer intended: it caused me to stop dead in my tracks and smile AND think about the question. As I pondered the answer, I realized I was in the part of the campus that hosts hard science faculties. That, I figured, had lots to do with the wording of the question.

Indeed, I immediately thought that the question of invisibility isn’t just relevant for those studying physical sciences. As it happens, the phenomenon of invisibility’s been on my mind a lot lately, but from a sociological perspective. I’ve been thinking about the different ways people have of making other people seem – or feel – invisible.

The feeling of being “unseen” is a common complaint among seniors, for example. As proof, they often point to all the marketing aimed at younger folks. But, beyond reminders that one’s not in the coveted demographic, I’ve been in many situations where others’ subtle behaviours have made me feel invisible.

For example, I’ve been in business meetings where it’s clear some people in the meeting had information that a few of us didn’t. When this fact subtly surfaces, it’s often clear it’s not meant to hurt or alienate. (By contrast, I was recently at a meeting when someone said: “I’m privy to information that you aren’t…”. When the person didn’t elaborate, it was clear to all that it was a power trip.) In any event, the result’s the same – those not “in the know” may as well be invisible.

Ignoring people’s calls, emails, or comments is another way people make others invisible. Again, I’m not necessarily saying that such behaviour is intentional – I’m just talking about the impact of such actions (or lack of action). No fancy invisibility cloak is needed: the person left hanging, unacknowledged is, in effect, invisible.

The question posed on that banner – and my admittedly weird riff on it – got me thinking about whether – or how – I might treat others as invisible. As I made my way to the restaurant, I couldn’t think of ways in which I might be doing so. In a business context, for example, I always respond quickly, even if my initial response is that I’ll get back to them. The same with responding to friends. Whew, I thought… not guilty…

But, given that the topic had been percolating through my mind of late, I thought it would be something I’d feature in a column. Then, as these things so often go, it came to mind last night as I was stopped at a traffic light. The road had a centre median and up ahead I saw a man walking down the row of stopped cars holding out a cup for change.

This gentleman said nothing and did nothing other than hold out his cup as he paused by every car. None of the drivers – myself included – gave him anything. In fact, as he approached my car, I consciously avoided making eye contact. After he passed, I watched him in my rear view mirror and I saw that the person behind me did the same thing.

As I sat there waiting for the light, I began to feel bad because I realized I had done my best to make him invisible. Regardless of the reason he was panhandling, as a fellow human being I should have recognized his existence by at least making eye contact with him. Shame on me…

I don’t think there’s any question that invisibility is a fact. Maybe there should be a banner with the question: Invisibility: What can we do to combat it?

© 2019 Ingrid Sapona