Somehow, I found myself thrown into an existential crisis around 3:30 this afternoon, and thought:
No matter what you do in the future, people from your past will only see you one particular way.
Every interaction you have is going to be colored by the assessment they had of you when they first got to know you.
For (a slightly extreme) example, if the President, while he was a five year old, were to steal the ball of the girl next door and then give it to his younger brother, when that five year old girl was reading about the President’s new partially-socialized healthcare plan in the newspaper as a forty-something woman, she might say to herself, “that’s just like him to redistribute people’s rightful property.” Whereas, the now forty-something brother might say, “he always was a man of the people.”
Meanwhile, the President isn’t thinking about the ball issue, which may have been a one-time fluke, and perhaps he’d even intended to keep the ball himself except he noticed his mother watching from the window and thought he’d be less severely punished for taking it should he make it look like an act of benevolence… anyway, the President is simply thinking, “what should I do about health care today?”
Is that the reason that we, in publishing, move so often? Do we become pigeon-holed by what we’ve worked on before? Or what title we had when we were hired?
And in life, does that mean that even if we were to make decently priced healthcare affordable to all, we would still be remembered by some as the asshole that stole their kickball when we were five, even as they pull out their new prescription card?