Listen here: onbeingnoticed.mp3 or read on…
Some of us quiet people are only quiet because we know no-one listens to us.
The fact that we don’t speak up doesn’t mean we have nothing to say, it just means we’ve gotten used to being ignored or marginalized or challenged or disregarded or rebuked or put in our place.
Quiet people choose not to expend their energy on fighting for a voice.
So, why do so many of us quiet people become performers? Why do we shy folk turn to the stage or the open mic or the camera? Why do we become orators, actors, singers?
It’s because it’s the only way to get attention sans interruption.
In grammar school, as a quiet, shy, introverted kid, I was nothing on the playground. I had zero leadership ability, no attack or self-defense mechanisms, no social skills (except politeness), no circle of classmates to rally around me.
All I was was a reader of books, an absorber of fact and fancy, a listener to radio, a movie fan. All my proactive life was lived in my head, out of sight of those who would criticize or compare, out of sight of those who might even sympathize.
Then, one day, everything changed.
I was required to select a poem I liked and recite it before my classmates. Instead of shrinking from the assigned task, I was glad to give it a try. After all, the words I loved to read to myself would suddenly be read aloud to a captive audience, an audience forbidden to interrupt or degrade. Something seemed right about this.
So it began.
I excitedly and dramatically recited Joaquin Miller’s poem about Christopher Columbus and, lo and behold, I got a round of applause. The kids listened. I even received a compliment or two. This was a heady experience. I was henceforth hooked.
Next thing you know, I was reciting the dramatic and tragic poem “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes, giving it all I had. And, again, people watched and listened. I was being paid attention to…something that seldom happened at home or on the playground or in class.
So, the cycle has repeated itself throughout the decades. I have the best of two worlds—in one world I get to quietly surround myself with books and artifacts, in the other world I get to act. Now and then I leave my muted, comfortable world and venture out into Performanceland. For instance, trolling through antiquities in an old estate, I get to share my tales and observations with a willing listener who sees me as The Expert…being The Star guest speaker at clubs and conventions and gatherings, I get to be the center of attention while extolling the details of my life, my booklove, my view of the universe…being The Actor, I get to be in a film or on the stage, again the center of attention for a few moments. And the best part of each of these adventures is when I leave the spotlight and hurry back to the serene environs of my shop or my library or my home, where The Quiet is the thing worth listening to.
The Quiet pays attention to me, and I it.
Talk to other performers and see how many of them share this experience to some degree. We love being Up There in front of you. But we love even more going back to The Quiet to re-charge, to prepare for the next public act
(c) 2012 A.D. by Jim Reed