“I didn’t yet understand that I was moving through a world that saw and treated me differently—and that those differences, though mostly invisible, had been shaping us all along.”
I’ve spent a lot of time learning how childhood trauma and neglect shape the nervous system. However, lately, I’ve been considering other influences that may be subtler and less visible, particularly for those whose identity and personality align with mainstream society.
What we come to believe about our worth and what we expect to receive from others isn’t solely a reflection of our caregivers. It also mirrors what we perceive and absorb through our schools, workplaces, televisions, devices, and all our social interactions.
That shaping is powerful. It can define us as profoundly as early trauma or attachment patterns.
A Childhood of Contrast
When I was in kindergarten and elementary school, I lived in a predominantly Black, urban neighborhood. My best—and only—close friend was Black.
The classrooms, where I often felt invisible, were packed, with 40 to 45 kids to a teacher.
The Factory Job That Changed Me
At seventeen, I won the lottery to secure a summer job at a chemical factory in East Chicago Heights, then often referred to as “the worst slum in Chicago.”
It paid high union wages, and I loved it. At the top of every hour, I’d walk the plant floor, in and out of concrete buildings, gathering small production samples. Then I’d hustle to the lab to dissolve, weigh, measure pH levels, and breathe in a mix of talcum dust, boiling acids, and burning chemicals.
My coworkers were all Black and Hispanic adults. The executives—who were primarily white—stayed in the administration building and rarely set foot on the plant floor.
I didn’t yet understand that I was moving through a world that saw and treated me differently—and that those differences, though mostly invisible, had been shaping us all along.
At the time, I didn’t think much about it. I egocentrically saw myself in a positive light, viewing myself as naturally intelligent, motivated, and inclined toward advanced education. I assumed that was the reason my path differed from those around me.
It would be decades before I learned from anti-racist teachers how profoundly different the culture’s expectations were for me. I had internalized them without even realizing it. I hadn’t “earned” my future in the way I believed—instead, I had been groomed for it, encouraged and supported in ways others were not.
What I also didn’t realize until much later was how much I had gained from those early environments. In ways I’m still discovering, they inspired me to grow beyond who I was otherwise conditioned to be.
I felt more at home in that factory than I ever did in the quiet, self-conscious middle-class suburb where my parents had bought a house.
My coworkers laughed and flirted, calling each other out and trading insults. Everyone teased, complimented, and criticized one another, and no one seemed to take it too personally.
During the midnight shift, the foremen joined us in the lab at 3:00 a.m. to play poker for an hour, then we plugged in fake test results with a collective wink.
It was reckless and irreverent—and also deeply human. I could have fun with people. Feel closer to them and more alive.
From that world, I learned that people can care more about each other than about their careers, homes, or appearances.
I saw that being seen doesn’t have to mean being impressive. That connection can flourish even amid chaos. I didn’t learn this from my white, middle-class suburban culture. I learned it from my Black and Latinx coworkers on the night shift in a factory.
Shaped by Powerful Forces
We often focus on how trauma shapes personality, and it does. But the ongoing social conditioning we receive from the world around us plays a more powerful role in shaping who we become than we often realize.
Often outside our awareness, social conditioning teaches us what kind of person we’re allowed to be.
It determines which gets noticed, ignored, or judged.
It shapes whether and how we’re expected to grow.
It influences our self-worth, our capacity for joy, and our sense of belonging.
Sometimes, the places we think of as rough or broken turn out to be the places that teach us how to be fully human.
Always, the possibilities for learning, growth, healing, and transformation are multiplied by the variety of people and cultures we experience.
