People are like onions

One of the lessons life has slowly taught me is something Shrek told the Donkey in his first movie: People are like onions. They have layers.

That people in real life are not uni-dimensional stereotypes is obvious, but I still get surprised on occasion. At a conference last month, several people mentioned that when they first saw me they never would have imagined that I was _____ whatever we were talking about at the time (run-away, Christian college, beer drinker, mom, marathoner, chinchilla-owner, cheese-maker, biochemistry major, who knows what). I flippantly replied that people are multi-faceted and shouldn't be judged on first impressions. Ahhh, I should listen to my own advice.

It is easier, and somewhat useful, to make quick observations about new circumstances (or acquaintances) and categorize them into a framework one has in their mind. That's how we learn, by building and then filling in a mental framework about a subject. Categorizing people, or stereotyping them, provides a framework to relate to them. We know where our interests and the stereotype's interests overlap, and try to connect on those points.

This approach is brilliant initially, but breaks down quickly.

Case in point. I have known this woman at work for three years. I have spent plenty of time sitting next to her reading out studies. I had her pegged as the quiet, introverted, conservative, modest, straight-and-narrow type. I imagined that she went home to an orderly house, put her children to bed at their exact bed time (without a fight from them), and quietly read journal articles in her spotless living room.

Yesterday I worked with her. As usual, she made no small talk. She very professionally went through the day working non-stop. She doesn't make jokes. When we went to do a procedure together, she stood behind my left shoulder properly observing me perform the textbook version of the procedure. When it was over, she walked out of the room ahead of me. As I glanced up at her departing figure, dressed in a white coat over a modest below-the-knee skirt and consevative black pumps, something caught my eye. Her calves. Faint black numbers.

When I asked about it, she was embarassed, quickly obtained alcohol swabs to scrub at the numbers (while continuing to work).

I couldn't believe it - her? in a triathlon? She's a closet bad-ass! I have a new-found respect for her many layers.

So, there I have it. People are multi-faced. Layered, like onions. And I mis-judged her. I always strive to accept myself and others at face value, as they are, on a daily basis. But, clearly, I have some work to do.