recognize
It’s a Wednesday afternoon and you’ve got no meetings left for the day. You’ve championed a few tasks, said a big word or two around a higher up, and successfully landed a joke on a conference call without being cut-off. Big day. No shame in an afternoon coffee. On your way, you pass sweet Doris who asks how your day’s going. You reply without breaking stride, “Wednesday, am I right?” – a response that you’ve found works with any day of the week. You keep on walking with a slight, but noticeable pep in your step. Why?
Call it due to millennials or profit-obsessed organizations, we’ve stepped into an era where abstract compensations are now offered to take the place of the almighty dollar. Maybe for you, they gave more opportunities, a growth plan, schedule flexibility, or perhaps they promised recognition.
Recognition?
Assuming you’ve done something well before, and had the privilege of empathetic surroundings, think about the last time you got a shout-out for a job well done. It’s awkward at first. People look at you, congratulate you, and remember that one time they did something well too. But after you clumsily belittle your own accomplishment, you feel pretty great.
I think those two separate emotional responses, to what we deem as recognition, are important to what we need as people. I’m starting to believe that the initial response, the uncomfortable one, is in relation to praise. It’s an announcement that not only have you done, but you’ve done well. But the second response is a reaction to a more honest interpretation of recognition.
Recognition is simply that you’ve done. That you exist. That you participated in something noticeable. And unless it’s noticeable, or recognized by someone else, does it exist to anyone but you?
Back to Doris. Your interaction wasn’t a deep and methodical instance that made you feel closer to someone else, it was purely recognition. Without the praise. It was confirmation that you’re there – a confirmation that can only come from someone else.
So why does a hair-splitting, definition-invoking, deep-dive on one word matter? Because recognition is easy. It shouldn't take a compensation package. But it doesn’t take away from how deeply we feel the need for it. If we can separate praise from recognition, we can have an almost frictionless solution to offer something that satisfies the soul, without that weird psychological game of accepting another’s success. Or accepting your own.
We don’t have to wait for someone to do well to acknowledge their existence – we simply have to notice they’re here.
