Now we’re talking.
When I think of Social Recognition, I think of those who have none. Or have less. I think of my own self at times in my life when I have not felt recognized.
When I was a teenager, I was a weird little goober. I was homeschooled and a youth group kid. Meaning that my only social outlets were things like youth group, church on Sundays, and 4-H club. I remember feeling very much on the margins of society—whenever I briefly entered it.
We didn’t have a lot of money that I could have used to “buy” my way into being recognized as something I was hoping to be. I don’t know what. Flashy? Successful, I suppose. Worthy of respect and dignity. I wanted the approval of others.When I was about 14 My folks sent me to the local high school to take a computer class and to try out track & field. Both were deeply upsetting spaces to enter. I didn’t react well. I lacked the confidence that comes from knowing myself, and how I fit in the larger world. I felt small and like I came from something small.
Lacking money I was sent to run track with the wrong shoes. Which is a silly thing to say now, in hindsight. When I was young it was all that mattered. I had high tops we found at Goodwill. Other kids had proper spikes. I wanted to learn something about computers. Most of the rest of the class was busy goofing off with people they’d known since kindergarten and wondering who the heck the homeschooler was. Loser.
I am older now. Not old, but older. I was born in 1981. I have active memories of the 1980s, but I did most of my formative growing up in the context of the 1990s. I remember Stretch Armstrong as a revolutionary new product. I remember the release of the Nintendo Entertainment System. I remember wishing I had MTV. I remember a million things that existed before the internet made things complicated.
And today, I’m not as concerned with the daily approval of the people around me. I think I have a better sense that we’re all on this same ride together. We are all in need of both the recognition of our peers, and the freedom from the need for it.
But I still see the hunger. Sometimes I still feel the pangs of starvation myself.
I have teenagers in my home now. I’m watching them grow up in a very different world than I did. And I grew up in a different world than my parents, who were born in the late 1950s.
But in every generation, I see a need for social recognition. I see a void where that need hasn’t been met. Where that value is not observed.
I know that void because I lived in it.
Maybe that’s part of the value I’ve found in this business. A coffee shop is a place where you go to be recognized. To be known. To have someone say your name and hand you something warm.
How can we recognize one another more fully? How can we lead with respect? Maybe it starts by remembering the “weird little goober” inside all of us who just wants to be invited to the table.
