First Impressions, Second Guesses, Easy Answers, part two

I then realized that the little girl was hearing impaired. She spoke to her loved one with a swirl of finger and hand movements and her loved one spoke back to her with finger and hand movements.

Now it made sense why the other woman was so loud, or at least I could understand why she would feel the need to be so loud.

I turned my eyes away. Again, I tried to look ahead but not anywhere in particular. I definitely tried to not look inward at that moment. If I looked inward I was afraid I might see the feelings of shame and disappointment of judging someone before really knowing them that I felt I now wore on my face.

After getting off the plane and getting our group together, we began the walk past the other gates in the general direction of home that would first lead us to a shuttle and then to a parking lot. Now we were free from the confines of the big jet, the tiny seats and the restrictive seat belts. Now we could walk as fast or as slow as we wanted. We visited the restrooms, a prerequisite to a car ride back home that would last longer than the flight and cover only a fifth of the distance we just traveled. As we grouped back together and steadied ourselves for one last escalator ride for the day, I noticed the loud woman and her family were just ahead of us. As we all reached the lower level, my group went in a different direction than the loud woman and her group. As I tend to do, I took one last look back. I saw the dad speaking to his family with his fingers. Before I turned back to my group their silent conversation ended and the three little kids ran off eager to move onto the next leg of their journey.

Soon, we were in a car headed south toward home pushing open the night as darkness seeped in with every turn of the wheels. I tapped away some notes into a computer from my back seat post as traffic whizzed past on both sides of the car. Amidst the jumble and rumble of things spinning through my mind I tried to make some sense out of the trip and my observations.

I recalled hearing that woman’s loud voice. I revisited the feeling the whole group left me with initially. I could still hear the little boy begging to go to the bathroom. Lastly, I remembered the little girl standing in the airplane aisle with a baby doll with unmovable fingers strapped to her back using her own fluid fingers to talk to her grandmother.

They say you only have one chance to make a first impression. I have lived enough of life to know how true that can be. I also know how quickly any of us can jump to conclusions without knowing really anything about what, or who, we are judging.

On the other hand, I recall other times when a first impression proved correct. I also know other times when very little information turned out to be right on the money.

We drove deeper into the dark. Weary from the week away and tired from the travel of the day I stared out the car window into the passing silhouetted scenery of June’s first night. I was unsure what to make of the day, unsure how to untangle my observations to come to some satisfactory conclusion.

Finally, we were home.

Weeks have passed since that plane ride. Time has smoothed over those few hours. Even now though, I sometimes think of that experience. As I did that night on the ride back home, I find myself looking for answers to situations like this. I struggle to know when a first impression can be trusted enough to not lead to having second thoughts. And each time I contemplate all these things I conclude that sometimes there are no easy answers.