Observation and Empathy

Many years ago, in my initial career as an educator, I tried to persuade elementary school teachers to take time to observe the children in their classrooms. I hoped they would sit back now and then and be quietly, intentionally observant of individuals and the whole.

It was a tough sell. On average, elementary school teachers have 25 or 26 students in their classrooms. They are so busy they can’t imagine having time to observe children and their activities. It sounds like such a luxury!

I enlisted the help of Judy, a third-grade teacher, in a little experiment. She had, as most teachers do, 2 children (out of her class of 28) who seemed to demand a lot more of her attention than the others. These two were antsy, disruptive, wasting time wandering around, unable to focus on the lessons and assignments and had trouble working independently.

“Those are the ones I want you to observe,” I told Judy. “Focus on those two. Try to observe them individually every day for at least 10 minutes. Jot down notes on what you observe.”

Judy and I met after school once a week that semester, to discuss the observational records that she was collecting on the children. We looked for patterns – when each child was focused and attentive, what friendships were working for them, what got in the way of learning, and so on.

In the third week, Judy started reporting on how she felt about those 2 children. “I feel so close to them!” she said. “They each have their own ways of coping with life in the classroom, and it’s fascinating. We talk together more now, and I am learning so much about them.”

The most important outcome of the study had already come into focus. The more Judy came to know each child through observation, the less they looked like problems and the more they emerged as interesting individuals, worthy of her regard. Being respectfully, attentively observant of their presence in her classroom was altering her perception of these two children from “challenging and problematic” to “enjoyable and interesting.”

Observation fosters empathy. Once you focus your observational attention on someone, it begins to make a qualitative difference in your relationship with that person. The more you continue to observe that person in a thoughtful way, the thicker the bonds of empathy become.  More on this later.

The second outcome of my little classroom experiment with Judy was that observing those two children heightened her general awareness of the whole class. As the semester went on, she found that she was tuning in more to each of the 28 students as individuals. She was using observation the way she used all the other skills in her teaching repertoire – to help her succeed with each child.

Observation is like a muscle that needs exercise. The more we use it, the better it functions. Our empathy for others comes in large part from the amount and quality of observation we bring to bear on the people we encounter – store clerks, co-workers, those sitting around us in the waiting room and the people on the bus. Observation is a process of using our gaze to “take in” the other, rather than using quick glances to categorize people.

The reciprocal is also true. If we don’t pay respectful attention to the individuals who populate our life, our observational skills atrophy. When those skills go, there goes our ability to call upon that empathetic response. Instead, we walk about our world giving people labels and then dismissing them from thought. Its like eating an astronaut’s meal tablet instead of enjoying the sumptuousness of roast chicken and a salad. It’s like judging the  paper towel instead of the tree.

Our country’s response to the current global refugee crisis created one particularly poignant illustration of the behaviors that result from being acutely observant of, and therefore empathetic towards, others. In Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, nearly 1,300 Middle Eastern refugees have been resettled since 2013. That has earned Lancaster the title of “America’s Refugee Capital.” The refugees are primarily Syrian, and primarily Muslim (Why I Am Proud To Be Mayor of American’s Refugee Capital, by J. Richard Gray; Newsweek, 11/29/2017).

Can you imagine this experience in your own backyard? How would people respond where you live? In Lancaster, health care personnel, service providers and volunteers worked directly with the refugees to help them settle in. Neighborhoods, churches and schools actively included refugee families in the life of the town. The business community helped refugees set up shops and businesses alongside existing shops and businesses (BBC News, “Lancaster, Pennsylvania: Americas Refugee Capital,” 1/27/2017).

With that up close and personal observation of refugees, the citizens of Lancaster City did not feel as if their lives were in peril from their proximity to so many Syrians and Muslims. Rather, they voted overwhelmingly for Democratic presidential candidates who focused on the human dimensions of the refugee crisis, and the importance of valuing our heritage as a nation of immigrants. After the election, thousands attended a Lancaster vigil to express their grief over President Trump’s repressive immigration policies. The following January, many individual Lancaster citizens called immigrant neighbors to express their horror and sorrow when six Muslims at prayer in their mosque in Quebec were killed by a gunman.

Observation is a powerful instrument. It elevates vision from a mechanical process to a source of insight and understanding. Regulations and policies do not have the clout of truth we gain from being acutely observant. We are hard wired with this tool that teaches us to love one another. Whether we will it or not, being respectfully, thoughtfully observant of others nurtures the empathy that moves us towards social justice.