Facial Recognition Brainware

I finally figured it out (and yes, this is my last post about faces).

I really tried to work on remembering people’s faces. It’s just not happening. My facial recognition brainware is weak. When I look at a person’s face, I don’t see something unique. I don’t see enough. I just see “a face.” But two things are happening that I noticed within the space of about 20 minutes.

First — while my facial recognition brainware is weak, it still works. After all, I remember the faces of everyone I know.  The issue is this: with strangers, the length of time that I require to really see someone’s face is longer than what is socially allowable. So I look away when my time limit is up, and it’s never enough time.

Second — I live in New England. How this matters is that for the most part, people are not all that open. Meaning, people don’t much make eye contact, let alone smile at random strangers. So as I was pondering point #1 today, I had one of those door-holding moments with this guy at work who I’ve never seen before. I couldn’t vouch for his country of origin, but I’m pretty sure it was much further south than New England. He gave me a smile, and looked at me, and thanked me for holding the door — nothing elaborate, just — civilized. And as I walked past him, I thought — I will remember that man’s face. It stuck. I could see his face in my mind’s eye as I walked away. It wasn’t distinctive or anything, it was just — alive. He let me in. In that way his face was so unlike the generally anonymous, opaque faces that we in New England tend to hold up to one another.

So here’s the deal — we more easily remember friendly people’s faces. Why? Because they don’t mind us seeing them. They invite us, in fact.

Not exactly stunning news, but I feel sort of satisfied.

About David

Prone to musing and to being prone. Father to two, writer, engineer.
This entry was posted in musings and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Facial Recognition Brainware

  1. gammaword says:

    When I was in high school, I realized that the corners of my mouth tend to drop down, and at the time I thought that it made me look sad and not very welcoming. So I practiced turning the corners of my mouth up — not in a smile, really, but just sort of neutral. Not inviting, but not uninviting either. Or at least I thought so — it was one of those things that teenagers think is so big, but nobody notices either way.

    Didn’t work, of course. Eventually I accepted that I’m not really a smiler at all. But I notice how just being open to connection radiates in the same way that a smile does. Being open to a smiler, in other words, is almost like smiling oneself, if you know what I mean.

  2. gammaword says:

    Yes, my eyes do the smiling, mostly, though oddly enough, I don’t think even the glimmer of a glint is always necessary to communicate that inner radiating smile…not sure how else to explain that but you know it when it happens to you…

  3. alphabetfiend says:

    You feel the invite… the come forward curiosity… Even when there is no smile, even if the smile has been swallowed in one resistant gulp. I actually specialize in plundering those kind of smiles. I conquer them! Hurrah!

    • gammaword says:

      I love that — “plundering those kinds of smiles.” Me — I’ve been a bit thick as far as that goes, reading those sorts of invites. A smile swallowed, to me, is a smile that didn’t want me, a smile that was meant for someone else.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s