When we were dating, my husband was on canadian crutches. He could not walk unaided, at the time we thought this would be permanent. When we were together, I swear he was invisible to all others but me. If we were in public, nobody addressed him directly. They would talk to me and if they needed to find out something about him, they would ask me. It was as if he were invisible, and inaudible.
A while later he had a surgery that allows him to walk again. After intense physical therapy he can walk unaided. Suddenly I became invisible. People no longer acknowledged me until he introduced me and even then often would treat me the same way they used to treat him.
I have witnessed some people doing the same thing to a black person. I swear in seems like some wait staff cannot see minority customers. I have witnessed this repeatedly in various parts of the country.
Have you ever been invisible or witnessed invisible people? What do you do? Where do people learn to ignore certain others so thoroughly?
I’m always invisible when we’re with my wife’s friends.
We’ll both be there, drinks in hand, telling about our trip.
Then her friends will ask her how I dealt with this or that problem, if I enjoyed myself, etc. as though I weren’t there. Fortunately, she’ll usually ask me to respond for myself, but the next question goes the same way, like I’m from some small Balkan country and my wife is the interpreter.
I get this all the freakin’ time when I’m out with Hubby and we run into some Army folks. Sometimes, I get a brief nod, acknowledging I’m there.
What really drives me nuts is when they tell Hubby something like “I ran into your father in law yesterday”. Hello?!? Or, “I really admire your father in law.” And I’m standing right there!
Even if I don’t wear combat boots, I’m a person, too!
Old people are routinely ignored.
Everyone will leave a family gathering while an old person is in the batchroom and have to return for them.
At the hotel where I rent lobby-side rooms for speaking groups, someone is always doing that, and we have to listen to the Left-ee try to get the staff to figure out where everyone went. Usually to a neighboring restaurant.
I can make myself invisible. I get into movies that way, and many a banquet and convention. You dress like a maintenance guy, and enter in a hurry, more interested in the “part” you are bringing than the doorman. Once in, change in the bathroom from clothes in your tool case. You can party all night that way.
“I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allen Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasm. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids–and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they only see my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination–indeed, everything and anything except me.”
So begins possibly the greatest work of 20th century American fiction: “Invisible Man” by Ralph Ellison.
This book is as relevant today as when it was published in 1947. It is the definitive work on the topic we speak of here, and an awful lot more.
I’m such a mouthy bitch that I am never invisible. But I can and do steal notice from my companions… I just like attention. What can I say? If you feel invisible, make yourself known! It’s no one’s fault but your own. (I really didn’t intend for that to rhyme…)
I don’t think I have ever felt invisible except in the presence of beautiful women. I feel I am judged pretty fairly for who I am by most people except when it comes to beautiful women and then I feel like I have melted into the wall.
I have been invisible for years. It was only via the internet I found a woman who wouldn’t judge me the minute they saw me. Average looking fat guys don’t get much attention. Ever. And when you do, it’s some thoughtless moron asking “Have you ever thought about losing weight?”
Does wonderful things when the only time people notice you is to make fun of you. Makes you sink deeper into invisibility.
Okay, yeah, I’m still invisible, but my wife can find me easy.
Now that the weather has gone back to normal, I can answer this question.
A few years ago, I injured myself pretty badly in a bike crash. Most of the injuries were pretty superficial, but I looked terrible. The entire left side of my face was completely torn up. People would stare at me, and when I glanced their way, I’d see the sudden turn of a head. The pointed ignoring of my injuries almost screamed, “What happened to you?” It was pretty irritating, but I didn’t realize how much until I met a class of fifth graders visiting my school on a field trip. They all wanted to know what I had done, had I broken anything (I had crutches), had I gotten any stitches, how much it hurt, everything. Their honesty was refreshing.
Ha! That book SUCKED! The title character was a moron! All his problems were of HIS OWN CREATION! He was too damn stupid to see that, and blamed it all on society, race, and status. All that shit was his own fault, and then he went crazy.
And just so you don’t think I came about this conclusion all alone, that basically is what my entire English 314 class though, black persons and other minorities included!
“And just so you don’t think I came about this conclusion all alone, that basically is what my entire English 314 class though, black persons and other minorities included!”
Thought.
But I digress.
Does the phrase, “the lady doth protest too much” mean anything to you?
Like, we will support your right to hate that particular story since blacks and minorities also did?
Can you explain that?
Why, some of my best friends are black persons and other minorities and they’d like to know too!
FWIW, Homer, I thoroughly disagree with your stance on Invisible Man. We can’t change each others minds on this, but just wanted to offer my disagreement.
A friend in a wheelchair is routinely overlooked; she’s a funny, fine person who happens to be a quad. It’s like people see only the wheelchair and not the person in it.
Just recalled a lady who comes into work frequently. She has very noticeable growths all over her face and arms. (I think it’s the “elephant man” disease.) It’s painful to watch people’s eyes land on her face and then skitter away. She has to feel so isolated.
Don’t know why this happens: discomfort, laziness, rudeness, etc.? Seems like anyone who’s the slightest bit different, outside the established lines, just gets shunted aside.
I thought Invisible Man was a beautiful work. Very elegant and it did examine this topic. The character had to go through those things in order for the work to be beautiful. That was sort of the point I got. It wouldn’t have made the impact it did if everything went hunky dorey and teh main char was perfect. He was human, in a larger than reality way. Like the old Everyman idea.
When I’m somewhere with my SO (he’s not my husband) I become invisible. I don’t know many of the people he knows. Even so, if we come across someone I don’t know, (at the mall or whatever) he will not introduce me. The ONE occasion that he actually DID introduce me, which was when I met his parents, it was: “This is Sarah.” Not, “This is my girlfriend, Sarah.” Just my name. When he doesn’t introduce me, I either introduce myself or walk away. Usually the latter, which he complains embarrasses him. But how does he expect me to feel, standing there like an idiot??
(FYI: His parents now know that I’m his girlfriend, only because his SISTER told them I live with him. He couldn’t even tell them THAT! But I 'spose this is a whole different subject huh? Okay, I’m done know.)
