Insecurities

“Turn in your assignments as you leave, please.”

The bell rings. Photojournalism students tried cramming through the door as if a herd of bulls is stampeding towards them–as if their fate relies on their exiting the classroom. Hands and pages fly everywhere as I desperately try to organize the assignments by turning them the same direction and stacking them on the teacher’s desk.

As a substitute teacher, I don’t expect to receive the same courtesy as the student’s real teacher, but, surprisingly, all of these students are especially polite today. Smiling faces, “Thank you”s, “Have a nice day”s, and laughter warm my heart between my 3rd and 4th period classes…at least until one student decides to obliterate my jovial spirit. 24 out of 25 students have no trouble neatly placing their assignments in the designated stack. Number 25, however, must find a way to stand out from everyone else.

I lift the stack of pages and tap it against the desk to line up the edges. As I examine the stack’s neatness, a sharp jabbing sensation suddenly forces my eyes upward. There, only about one foot above the teacher’s desktop computer, is the most annoyed, defiant, and interesting expression I’ve ever seen. I take a moment to regain my senses before realizing I had just been stabbed in the face by a piece of paper in the hands of this petite teenager. She continues waving her page in front of my face, expecting me to take it from her and add it to the stack. The Nerve.

Didn’t she see how her classmates turned in their assignments? Does she not notice the stack of pages within arm’s reach from her? Why must she make this task more difficult than it needs to be? I won’t stand for this nonsense.

I make eye contact with her, maintain a firm look, and gesture toward the stack of pages. Her next move is what launches my mind into a whirlwind of thought, speculation, and hypotheses. A look–a glare, rather. A rolling of the eyes. An act of asserting a combination of apathy and rebelliousness. These may be the attitudes she hopes to convey anyways, but I see something quite different. I see a girl who feels lost, hopeless, and defeated. She reluctantly lays her page on the top of the stack–in the wrong direction, of course–and heads to her 4th period class. By refusing to add her assignment to the stack myself, have I multiplied the burdens she already carries on her shoulders? Has the weight of the whole world on her back just gotten heavier? Have my actions intensified her feelings of defeat?

There is no 4th period photojournalism class. The growls of my tummy can only mean one thing…lunch time! I tidy up the teacher’s desk, check my watch to see how much time I have before 5th period, and hop in my car. The school is less than a block away from one of the most delicious and affordable lunch spots, that is, Taco Bell.

The employee at the counter couldn’t be more pleasant. He takes my order, asks about my day, and treats me like royalty. Judging from his positivity, there’s nothing he’d rather be doing this Wednesday afternoon than taking orders at Taco Bell. His happiness is contagious, and I can’t help but smile all the way back to my seat. While scarfing down a couple of burritos, another employee comes near my table. I’m the only customer in the restaurant, but her efforts to remain unseen are obvious.

With a broom in one hand and a dust pan in the other, she sweeps the floor around my table at her own will. No one has to tell her what to do; no one has to beg her to take care of her job responsibilities. But what catches my attention is not her commendable work ethic, but the way in which she pretends to be invisible to me and the rest of the world.

Not once, not twice, but three times does the young woman avoid making eye contact with me. Is she embarrassed? Is she too ashamed of the cards she’s been dealt in life? Her behavior certainly has nothing to do with me. Two other customers arrive separately, and she rotates her body to prevent them from noticing her. Her face shielded by baskets of plastic-ware and condiments, she continues fighting for invisibility. Fighting with all she has even if the fight empties every drop of her energy. But what makes this fight worth fighting for? Why is invisibility the young woman’s most desired superpower?

Separated by at least 8 years. Different skin color. Different families. Different life positions and circumstances. The women described in these two scenarios still have something in common…insecurity. Although the root of their insecurities may be vastly different, they each experience insecurity to some extent. But don’t we all? We are no different than the women I encountered today, but we have our own ways of masking and coping with our insecurities.

The question I want to leave you with is WHY? What causes us to be insecure like the high school photojournalism student and the Taco Bell employee? How many times have we perpetuated a person’s insecurities when we were, in fact, trying to do the opposite? How many times have people tried to diagnose the high school photojournalism student? “Maybe you just need Jesus.” “All the drama is making you crazy. Get some new friends and all your problems will be solved.” After all, she might just need a pair of listening ears and a person willing to validate her feelings.

How many times has the Taco Bell employee been discouraged by her friends’ attempts to encourage her? “You can do anything you want to do. Why are you settling for a job at Taco Bell?” “Your husband doesn’t even pay child support. Your life would be so much better if you just divorced him, found someone better, and moved on.” Her deepest need might not have anything to do with her job or her husband. She might be longing for something else, perhaps something spiritual or intellectual. A hobby like photography or an online class about computer science might be what she needs to find happiness.

When have you felt most insecure? Are insecurities an inevitable consequence of the world we live in? Whose fault is it that we experience insecurities? I’m interested in what you think, so please share your thoughts!

In Christ, Marshall Hoybook