A few weeks ago, during a meeting for my internship, we were told to come prepared to engage in a debate. When our supervisor unmuted herself and began talking, I sat back in my chair and started to get comfortable. She asked us if we could turn on our video. As soon as she said this, there was a prolonged period of silence, and I felt an immediate sense of discomfort. I didn’t come into the meeting prepared to have other people see my face.
Like many, I prefer to sit in meetings with my video off. I find it less invasive, and if I need to get up and get a glass of water or make sure my dog goes outside, it’s not a problem, as I don’t have to worry about interrupting anyone. But her request, which was met with dead silence by everyone in the meeting, made me wonder why the idea of being seen during a meeting felt so uncomfortable.
I’ve been guilty of taking a peek at my phone during a class when the professor is occupied with someone else and is unlikely to notice. But why does this feel less egregious when I’m sitting at home in front of my computer screen rather than in a chair in a lecture hall? After all, it’s the same concept. Whether it’s tiredness or boredom or impulsiveness, I’m taking advantage of temporary anonymity to do something that I probably wouldn’t do if someone was watching me.
Back when classes were still in person and I had never heard of Zoom, one of the ways I demonstrated that I was paying attention in class was not only looking at the professor but other visual cues like nodding and appropriate facial expressions. This was especially helpful if I noticed my mind wandering, and I was able to reconnect by focusing on the space I was in.
There is a skill I learned in therapy called “sitting with discomfort.” This is the idea that instead of avoiding situations that are unpleasant or uncomfortable, we can practice focusing on the present and learn to tolerate those unpleasant feelings.
One of the key aspects of discomfort is being able to label your feelings. For example, when I felt the compulsion to check my phone during a lecture, I asked myself if it was really an urgent need or if I actually felt uncomfortable or anxious and needed a way to check what was going on around me.
If it was the latter, I found it helpful to try and sit with however I was feeling, focusing on the present. When I’m in a Zoom meeting, it can feel easy to remove myself from view; all it takes is a click of a button. But just like sitting in a physical space, I try to ask myself if it’s really due to genuine need or discomfort.
One of the unique aspects of being in college is that we are uncomfortable a lot. Having the willingness to push yourself and tolerate situations that make you awkward or comfortable is the key to succeeding personally and professionally, whether that’s walking into a job interview, working through a conflict or needing to apologize to someone.
During my internship meeting, I was one of the few who turned on my video, and at first, it felt incredibly awkward, as I was sitting at my desk holding a blanket and hadn’t brushed my hair or bothered to wear anything nice. But as the conversation continued, I started to feel more at ease, and I noticed that the others who turned their video on seemed to open up more as well.
In this increasingly virtual world, we have a lot less opportunities to be in social situations, so why not use virtual communication as a way to practice being uncomfortable? Even if we can’t sit in a physical classroom, we can still practice the same self-awareness and, frankly, the same level of politeness and respect as if we were sitting in a lecture hall.
