Skip to main content

Unsure Smile

I was at the grocery store early in the morning a few days ago to pick up a few essentials. A mom with a little baby was there too. While mom was scanning the breakfast cereal aisle, baby sat in the cart and looked around curiously. At some point we made eye-contact. Under my mask I was smiling at her but the baby had no way of knowing. She may have sensed friendliness in my eyes and was almost beginning to smile when a look of confusion took over and she decided against it. She continued to look in my direction as I walked away. The incident stayed with me for the rest of the day. 

All my adult life, I have had the privilege of random babies seeking me out to play peek-a-boo, smile, laugh, prance and generally try to get my attention. I have cherished every one of those moments. Babies are known to boss over me and get me to participate in their capers that other more sensible adults may not want to be any part of. To me there is nothing more relaxing than to spend time with a child, become part of their world for a little bit when small things become the temporary center of the universe. It is a meditative experience. That morning with that baby confused by my mask, I was wondering how much this pandemic is hurting children of that age who need to study the faces and expressions of adults to understand the world around them. This Brookings Institution study on the topic is very timely:

As more and more people are covering their faces in public, it becomes difficult to read facial expressions and see people smile (or frown). While this may not pose challenges for adults, young children look for emotional cues from caregivers to interpret novel or potentially threatening situations. That is, children rely on their caregiver’s facial expressions and tone of voice to regulate their response toward people and new situations. The development of this emotional communication is referred to as social referencing, and occurs between infancy and the early preschool years.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques...