Opinion: Beyond First Impressions

By Russ Gerber

Musician Carlos Santana was interviewed on National Public Radio by Michel Martin, who asked about his background, upbringing, and life today. He said he grew up in a poor neighborhood in Tijuana, Mexico. He was an angry teenager in high school and often ended up in the principal’s office.

Not a great start. But all that’s behind him now.

“I’m a good man,” Santana told the interviewer. “I’m not what happened to me. I am still with purity and innocence. No one can take that away from me.”

He gives plenty of credit for this “good man” to his mother. “I think she probably prayed for me more than anyone to keep me from getting lost.” He dedicated his memoir to her “because she deserves to know her prayers worked.” Obviously, she had an exceedingly good impression of her son, even if he or others did not.

That’s worth considering. If discouraging first impressions become the thought model we adopt as our own—defining who we are and influencing who we will be—then we need better models.

The deep impact of thought models was explored by author Mary Baker Eddy. She saw the redemptive effect the best thought models can have on people’s lives. She also warned of the fallout from being transfixed by its imperfect opposite. In her book “Science and Health” she wrote: “Do you not hear from all mankind of the imperfect model? The world is holding it before your gaze continually. The result is that you are liable to follow those lower patterns, limit your life-work, and adopt into your experience the angular outline and deformity of matter models.”

Such a dispiriting concept of who we are acts as a mental roadblock. It would keep us from seeing extraordinary possibilities and empowering a full, healthy, productive life. “To remedy this,” Eddy continued, “we must first turn our gaze in the right direction and then walk that way. We must form perfect models in thought and look at them continually, or we shall never carve them out in grand and noble lives.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s similar to what Santana’s mother found. Instead of surrendering to the picture of an immoral and spiritually empty life for her son, she prayed for and held to a far better idea of manhood. One that’s morally and spiritually full, as well as pure and innocent. One that her son is profoundly grateful for today.

Was it easy? Were there times when she saw scant evidence of worthiness in her son’s behavior, and was she tempted to wonder if her prayers would be answered? I don’t know. Maybe those first impressions presented a pretty despairing picture.

The good news is that what she valued more than anything else, and what we all can value, is the goodness that can’t be taken from anyone. Santana would agree. It can’t because it’s based on a spiritual idea, a model that doesn’t change and that never goes away. 

In a world of dispiriting images and low expectations, which picture should occupy the thoughts we hold about ourselves or others? Which impression should we build on and look at continually? The one based on fluctuating appearances? The one that marginalizes individuality and that’s littered with flaws and off-putting stereotypes? Hard to imagine a bright and promising life blossoming out of such an imperfect model. It’s even harder to imagine that such a superficial picture accurately represents anyone’s core being.

It’s that spiritual core, unrestricted by what’s seen on the surface, that signifies the true value of any one of us. 

So here’s something worth remembering for the road ahead. Regardless of the negative appearances tossed in front of us, we choose what thought model, imperfect or perfect, will influence us. We choose what thought model will shape our view of others. We choose what thought model empowers us to do the most good for the world at large. 

No one should be allowed to make this choice for us. It’s ours to make, and as Santana and his mother found, it’s never too late to make it.

Russ and his wife moved back home to Southern California after he worked as the media manager for the Christian Science church in Boston. With a background in publishing, he spends most of his time writing, reading, volunteering and grandparenting.