When you hold an infant, hold him not just with your body, but with your mind and heart.
~Magda Gerber
Being seen – truly seen – is one of our deepest human needs. Think about the last time someone paid full attention to you. How long did it last? How did it feel? In our rushed world of quick fixes and constant advice-giving, having someone simply witness our experience – whether it’s joy, pain, confusion, or triumph – without trying to change it, can feel like finally being able to exhale. It tells us, “you matter exactly as you are.”
These moments of being truly seen can happen anywhere, anytime – and I witnessed this power just recently. At the dentist’s office, I noticed a 7-month-old girl. Her Dad held her facing out, slightly distracted, and this little girl had a neutral expression. Until she caught my eye. I simply met her gaze and offered a gentle smile before looking down. Suddenly, this girl was all eyes and dimples. She wiggled and squirmed, shook her head no…and I smiled and gently shook my head back. She laughed and then started vocalizing.
All that…from a moment of eye contact. From being seen, acknowledged, and met exactly where she was.
Fred Rogers once said, “As human beings, our job in life is to help people realize how rare and valuable each one of us really is, that each of us has something that no one else has – or ever will have – something inside that is unique to all time.” Sometimes fulfilling this job is as simple as truly seeing another person, even for just a moment.
This truth is something Ben Swett, Director of Early Engagement, understands deeply. His non-profit focuses on Fatherhood and aligns with RIE’s principles of respectful observation. At the airport, he once noticed a young boy melting down outside the women’s restroom. “I want to go!!!” the boy kept crying, while his Dad repeatedly explained that boys couldn’t go in. Ben caught the boy’s eye and said, empathetically, “You want to go.” The boy immediately stopped crying, sniffed, and said “Yeah. I want to go.” The Dad looked at Ben like he was some kind of wizard, but Ben simply walked away as Mom exited and the family moved on.
I practiced similar magic when a 3-year-old was visiting our RIE class with her baby brother. After watching tension build as both children vied for Mom’s attention, big sister lost it when her brother picked up a toy she wanted. As she raised her hand to hit, Mom blocked it, saying “I won’t let you hit.” I, sitting close because I noticed the tension, gently grasped big sister’s hands, looked into her eyes and simply said “It’s hard to be a big sister.” Poof…like adding oil to boiling water, immediate relief.
When we slow down and truly observe each other – whether it’s a baby at the dentist, a frustrated child at the airport, or a big sister wrestling with changes in her world – we create moments of deep connection and acknowledgment. This kind of watching without rushing to fix or entertain, this patient presence that says “I’m here, I see you,” opens doorways to understanding that nothing else can unlock. These moments remind us that being seen is not just about eye contact or physical presence. It’s about recognizing and honoring the whole person before us, with all their feelings, struggles, and unique qualities. When we say “I see you,” we’re really saying something profound: I see your experience. I see your feelings. I see your worth. And in that seeing, in that moment of quiet observation and pure acknowledgment, something magical happens – we help each other remember just how rare and valuable each of us truly is.