When I was in 2nd grade (and honestly, throughout school years...) I was a model student. I was good at school, good at saying, doing, or avoiding the kinds of things that my parents or teachers would approve or disapprove of. Even in these earliest days, I wanted to be liked and for that image to never falter, because I liked the feeling of it.
One day, I was heading home with a friend after helping my teacher with some after school tasks (extra credit! approval!! model student image!!!), when we stumbled upon a crumpled piece of tissues right outside of our classroom. It looked disgusting, nothing I would ever want to touch voluntarily with my own hands. But my teacher was right there, so I did what I thought he'd want me to do — I picked it up without any complaints or hesitation. Disgust and panic quickly rose inside, and my mind raced to think of the closest trash can I could think of. We happened to be passing by the boys' bathroom all the way on the other side of the hall, and I just couldn't take it anymore. With the greatest force I could project upon an object without much weight or momentum, I casually flung the offending ball of tissue through the open door of the bathroom, relieved to have gotten rid of it.
Then, I heard someone clearing their throat behind me. It was my teacher. I'd been found out. The model student who couldn't do wrong was caught littering. Worse yet, littering merely two minutes after pretending to be a good person who selflessly picks up after other people's trash. Mortified, I ran into the bathroom and picked up the tissue again (that'll teach me), and also started picking up after other trash that was scattered on the floor (that definitely taught me all the lessons). My teacher briefly stopped with a knowing smile, and moved on.
This memory has stuck with me for decades because it starkly represented what I was willing to do vs. not when I thought someone was paying attention to what I was doing vs. no one was around (at least I thought) to check on me. I couldn't believe I had fallen so quickly. Am I really a good person if the difference between one vs. the other could so easily be made in a matter of minutes? That a dirty piece of tissues is all it took? Sure, I was only a child, but the choices and the context almost make the point even clearer. I still think about this moment a lot, because the tissue dilemma still happens, even as an adult with a bit of a clearer sense of my own choices and values, but also a lot more run-ins with situations and circumstances, especially at work, that one's decisions and actions seem more consequential when someone is, indeed, looking.
The perception aspect of how we form trust, relationships, and ideas about other people isn't new, nor is it unique to specific types of jobs, industries, or even countries. In some places, this is much more pronounced and even touted as a skill, that you be able to demonstrate your value, worth, and meaning to other people and to the workplace in gesture as much as in impact. And when perception seems to outweigh other factors in how your reputation gets formed, it's hard not to prioritize the visible vs. invisible moments to do the good or the right thing — make it count when someone is paying attention. I wish I could say doing good and right is always easy, but the truth is, some of them are the hardest things you'll ever have done in your life or in your career, because they are worth doing despite obstacles and opposition. So to put the effort in, and for that not to be "counted" in some way because no one was there to witness it, should we even bother? Am I a bad person for even thinking this way, asking this question?
Many balls and boxes of tissues later, I still bring my model student tendencies to work. But today, the difference is that I try to make my decisions and actions based on my own beliefs and values, not just because I think it's going to help me get on someone's good side or high on their radar. And while I have gotten skilled at using public presentations of my work to perform and demonstrate what I'm capable of, I have also learned that there are these private, small, and everyday acts of one's values and commitments that often leave the most indelible impressions and impact on others. It is a gift to be able to be useful to another person when they need you, and no one else needs to be paying attention to these moments — except you.