Being Invisible:
The Pandemic Of Neglect
by Rev. Ken Langer
First Church of Barre, Universalist
Sunday, May 3, 2026
I was one of those kids who was always picked last when we played dodgeball in school. Not all the kids enjoyed dodgeball, though—especially those who were consistently chosen last when teams were divided. For some reason, the teachers chose not to select the team members themselves, probably so that they would not appear to have any favorite students. Instead, they chose team captains (who, of course, were their favorites) and then told the captains to pick their team members one at a time. It was so humiliating for me to always be the last one chosen because I knew it meant I was the least desirable. In effect, I was invisible until there was no one left to choose.
The moment you realize you are invisible is painful and can make you withdraw or act out in anger or even dangerous ways. At first, I withdrew. I let everyone else catch and throw the ball during the game. I stood there in protest until I was hit and could leave the game. I just didn’t care about a team that took no notice of me. Of course, that just made them more likely to choose me last for the next game. Another time, I got angry. I violently pounded the ball in any direction I could. I broke the rules and kicked the ball. I threw the ball as hard as I could and cared little about the consequences. That made me even less likely to be chosen for the next team. It got to the point that when the selection process ended, the captains fought over who would NOT take me on their team. I became angry, depressed, lonely, and felt neglected, so I sought out some advice from a friend. The words I heard from this wise old soul would soon change everything for me.
In 1897, H.G. Wells wrote “The Invisible Man” about a scientist who learns how to make himself invisible but is unable to reverse the process. As he becomes more and more distraught about his situation, he also begins to become more lawless and violent. Since he cannot be seen, he figures he cannot be caught. However, he is eventually caught by an enraged crowd, who somehow manages to corner him and beat him to death. As his body begins to fail, so too does his invisibility, until he once again becomes fully detectable, though devoid of life.
In 1947, Ralph Ellison wrote a novel entitled “Invisible Man” that describes how African Americans feel living in a white-dominated society that often does its best to isolate, separate, and invalidate them. People of color, the indigenous, those with different gender identities, the handicapped, and many other groups have been rendered invisible by the dominant majority of the United States. It is a sad history that extends all the way to the very founding of this country.
We have an innate need to be seen. We all need to be recognized, validated, and respected. We all have an intense need for belonging. We want to believe that our lives matter and that we make a difference in the world. To be seen is not something that would be nice to have, like a new car or a fancy pair of shoes; it is necessary for our self-worth, our ability to interact with each other, and our very survival. It is the basis upon which we build all our relationships, including the one with ourselves. The more important a relationship is to us, the more critical our sense of self becomes.
Love and belonging is the third of five levels in Abraham Maslow’s "Hierarchy of Needs." To be rendered invisible is to eradicate any sense of belonging, since recognition is important to any group association. Being rendered invisible can lead to anxiety and depression. Emotionally, however, the effects can be even more devastating and dangerous. An individual’s self-esteem can become diminished or even destroyed. In a world so full of people who are all trying desperately to be seen, it can be hard to break through to the surface. In the mind of a person who has already been abused or neglected, the need to be recognized is even more desperate. Sometimes it is the very need to be seen that drives people to do harmful and dangerous things, not unlike the character in the H.G. Wells novel.
A copycat murder is one in which a perpetrator attempts not only to copy the deeds of a previous murderer—usually a mass murderer—but to exceed them for the sole purpose of being recognized in a heinous sort of Hall of Fame. There are some who are more than willing to kill and to die themselves in order to receive fame. They crave it even if only in death. And yet, we encourage this behavior when we endlessly repeat the names of the killers until they are burned into our memories, not unlike the way we lionize sports heroes. Few people recognize names like Charlotte Bacon or Grace MacDonnell, yet a quick review on the internet led me to find the name Adam Lanza over 88 times! Lanza was the shooter who killed 26 people, mostly young children, with a semi-automatic rifle at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut in 2012. He took the lives of children like Charlotte and Grace. Most of the children were shot multiple times. It was later discovered that Lanza had extensively studied the shootings at Columbine High School as well as others. He had created a spreadsheet of recent mass murders as a sort of scorecard. Every year, these kinds of attacks become more deadly and more horrific (1) as more people seek to be recognized for their crimes. (2)
The need to be seen begins very early in our childhood years. We crave recognition from our parents and then from others as we struggle to define ourselves in the world. It has been extensively proven that children who do not receive this recognition early in their lives develop serious psychological problems later on, and there is a direct correlation between childhood neglect and violent adult criminal behavior. (3)
We are all aware of the ways in which young children constantly engage in behaviors to gain attention from adults as well as from each other. Although these behaviors become less obvious in later years, the underlying need does not diminish. In the past, public validation was sought locally through families, neighbors, and community organizations; however, social media has expanded the pursuit of fame to a much larger audience. Now, we gauge our self-worth through clicks, likes, thumbs-ups, and filters. Photos and short videos allow us to craft appealing life stories for others to view.
Which brings me to the religious perspective on all this. The need to be seen has become a main selling point for some religions. They promise that they can provide you with the recognition you deserve from a deity or a special teacher. The idea that there is a loving and caring being out there in the world, or in the ether, who will love you and be with you no matter what trials and tribulations you may experience is a powerful comfort for many people, and I would never dismiss that sense of relief or belief for anyone. Who wouldn’t want a figure who could act as an unconditionally loving caretaker? Who wouldn’t want to know a kind of love that transcends the frailty of human affection? However, casting those aspirations into the sky may be helpful for some but not for all. For them, and others, I want to offer an alternative way to look at this dilemma.
First of all, consider the idea that the entire universe is based—rooted—in love, truth, and beauty. We need not necessarily create an anthropic form to hold these concepts. This means that love, truth, and beauty are part of all of us. We can open our own hearts and minds to discover that those essential elements are already within us. We only need to give ourselves permission and the space to find and accept them. The loving and open arms we may need could very well be our own.
Secondly, I believe the transcendental ultimates of the universe are best expressed through others in community. Places like churches and other supportive institutions are where we can practice the recognition and support we need. Recognition is best achieved by sharing it with one another. Through nonjudgmental attention, the sharing of smiles, and offering words of gratitude and appreciation, we can all partake in the gift of living fuller and more meaningful lives. By celebrating each other equally and sincerely, we can say Sawubona (sah-woo-Boh-na) to one another - a Zulu word that means "I see you; I recognize your value, your potential, and your essence."
Those painful days when I was ignored by the dodgeball players in my youth ended when my dear friend told me that I should focus not on what people expected of me but on what I could do best. I knew I was terrible at catching and throwing the ball, but I also knew that I was very good at evading it, so I put my quick legs to use. I eventually became untouchable by the deadly dodgeball. I was so good at not being hit that I was often the last person on my team left standing on the court (a good thing in dodgeball). I became a kind of team hero and found myself being chosen first for the next team.
Always do what you do best, give yourself permission to love yourself and others, and accept the love that others offer to you. Sawubona!
James Densley and Jillian Peterson. “53 Years of Mass Shooting Data,” Sept. 2019, Los Angeles Times, https://www.latimes.com/opinion/story/2019-09-01/mass-shooting-data-odessa-midland-increase.
Pauline Moore, Heather J. Williams, Alexandra T. Evans. “Why Mass Shooters Are Seeking Fame,” Rand, July 2023, https://www.rand.org/pubs/commentary/2023/07/when-mass-shooters-are-seeking-fame.html.
Janet Currie and Erdal Tekin. “Does Child Abuse Cause Crime?” National Bureau of Economic Research, January 1, 2007, https://www.nber.org/digest/jan07/does-child-abuse-cause-crime?page=1&perPage=50.
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