Saddle Sore: Mattering, in a nutshell

What does it matter? Does it really matter? Yes, it does, but that’s really not what I’m talking about. However, if we wonder whether it matters, we can break that down to a more personal level and begin to get the idea in our heads of mattering. For ourselves. Not “it,” but do “we” matter? That is the question.

In a valley with a higher suicide rate than most other places, the subject of mattering is critically important. It is important for people to feel that they’re a significant part of the world around them, that their very existence matters. One of the deepest causes of despair is when people feel as though their lives are invisible, meaningless, or that they are burdensome to others.

Loneliness and despondency creep in. On a day-to-day, gut-level, basic existence framework, people need to feel that they have some significance. People need to know that, if gone, they would be missed, that they are recognized and are part of the social environment.  

If you have a friend or someone who occasionally enjoys conversing with you, then you matter to that person. And that goes both ways. You certainly matter to a friend or to one who intermittently asks your opinion. It’s important for each of us, as individuals, to tell people that they’re important to us and in what way; otherwise, it may not be obvious. This isn’t difficult.

Tell the bus driver you appreciate his friendly smile and greeting. Or ask someone how their day is going. Just a friendly smile here and there goes a long way in life. Most of us are fairly good about treating lift operators (“lifties”) well, for they are important to our day on the mountain. When, as an ambassador on the mountain, we had free cookies to pass out to fellow skiers, I’d sometimes ski a box or two around to lifties on the hill, giving them a little boost in their day.    

It’s not so important how many friends you have or how many accolades certain groups may give you. If you have two good friends, your feelings that you matter may be strong. If you increase that to having ten friends, your feeling of mattering will not increase five-fold. That’s just the way we’re built. Diminishing returns, so to speak.

Our schools — the institutions where, from a young age, our children spend a majority of their day — are a truly important place to be cognizant of and institute the idea of mattering. I got turned on to this very important concept by Adam Hancock, the head of Lower School at Aspen Country Day School where my grandchildren are enrolled. 

It was like a light came on: We talk about self-esteem, of belonging, and other things, but mattering is much more basic. When children enter school, they are to some degree a blank slate and are working on their self-identity. That’s where mattering is so important. Does the teacher see or value their work? Do they feel needed, besides from the teacher, but are others glad they’re there? And do their ideas and values count to others? Kids absorb the above, and this gets added to their formula of self-worth. Do they matter?

If they feel they matter — to their teacher, to their classmates, to others — then they are much stronger emotionally and engage more freely in classroom activities and studies. To that child, school becomes a place to grow and enjoy, rather than somewhere to simply survive.

Kids with a solid foundation of mattering are more inclined to stand up for themselves, more likely to complain when treated unfairly, able to deal with behavior that devalues them, and basically, they more effectively stand up to bullies.

Basically, being seen, valued, and emotionally impacted by another person is pretty much what mattering is about. If you’ve read Maya Angelou, “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel.” In a nutshell.

Tony Vagneur writes here on Saturdays and welcomes your comments at ajv@sopris.net.