The (Non-existent) Fairness of Staring

Throughout the course of Bodies in American Culture, we have studied extensively the influences that society has on the human body and the way it is outwardly constructed for others. A common theme we have studied has been the unyielding power of society to construct identities for people's bodies and how these perceptions have become rampant in the American psyche.

Staring: How We Look, or just the act of staring, is the culmination and response to all that we've learned thus far. It answers perfectly the question of: why exactly do we respond in the way we do to certain people we've studied in the course?

Why do we stare? What constitutes staring? What makes it so inappropriate? The social constructions of the way we are, what is different, is what initiates extensive looking, seeing, and judging. Staring is a product of our own social perceptions about others.

Check out what Garland-Thomas has to say about this: "Social expectations shape our ocular sorting processes, making certain appearances and actions unusual and cataloging people as alien or native, extraordinary, or ordinary" (18). Our social constructions of people are what ultimately define them in our consciousness, what leads us to stare, observe awkwardly.

I remember one of the first times I stared at someone. I grew up with a kid through elementary, middle, and high school - Evan Rackson - who could not walk, spoke in muddled spurts, and remained permanently attached to an air tube. When I arrived in fourth grade, and noticed him sitting in the back of the room, I remember being in partial shock and awe.

But I knew then that staring was no good, even though I was astounded by his unfortunate situation. He was remarkably different, and it took me off guard. I mean, duh, of course it would. He was extremely disabled and I had never seen something likes this before.

Anyway, during our eighth grade dance, he came with a date - a girl who was also handicapped, breathing from an air tube. And they danced, somehow, Evan in his wheelchair, her above him. It was quite a sight, one which grabbed many oooohs and ahhhs from the aggregate of the student body. They weren't cheers, but more sounds one gives off when they find something to be cute, adorable.

But in retrospect, our cute giggling was most likely spurred because both of them were so different. We were drawn to them because they were in unfortunate circumstances. Our staring, responses to them were not because they were one of us, but because they were not, and they were acting similar to many other non-handicaps at the dance. Because they had been dealt a set of less-fortunate cards.

Social constructions are what constitutes staring, but mostly because we're curious. But what about in this situation? Was it fair that I looked at these two disabled persons and thought they were cute? Was I being curious or did I just want to feel a semblance of emotional appeal that I felt they embodied?

So maybe staring can be constituted by not only curiousness but also endearment - at least in this case. However, what this scenario and others have in common is that, in the end, the social construction of the situation greatly appealed to me. They were different, lived a completely different life than myself and my friends, and this is what constituted the staring.

I guess a part of me was curious to watch them interact romantically, see how that could work - but is that fair? I guess curiosity killed the cat - but what if (like in this case) curiosity triggered genuine emotion, a semblance of appeal towards this couple. If you ask me, it's still not justified to stare, giggle, and think they're different. In the end, they may not be like us, may dissent from my own personal social construct, but they're still people.

That's something that gets overlooked throughout this process of staring: that in the end, the people we are staring at are people, just like us, and want to be treated the same as anyone else. And no matter the situation, even if they are cute, acting in a romantic way, there is no appropriate time to stare. What transcends disabilities is the essence of being, singularly, a human.