The Look (a pictorial essay)

The writing prompt for this piece was “Unasked for critique.”

The Look (A pictorial essay)

We all know the look. You know, the one that your parents gave you growing up, that had multiple meanings. 

“You best not be doing what I think you’re doing!” 

“You’re not going out, looking like that.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“You did something wrong, and you know what I’m talking about.”

My mom passed away at 84 years old in 1998, so I can’t ask her about “the look” I got whenever she wanted to let me know something that I obviously couldn’t hide from her. I decided to go back through our family pictures and to see what I could discover about “the look”. 

Here are my findings:

——–

My mother was the youngest of six children. In this picture, you can see a family photo (my uncle Samuel passed away before this picture was taken). 

My mother is sitting on my Great-grandmother’s lap. Notice the eyes of all the other women. They’ve all already got the look on their faces. It appears to be a learned trait. My mother has not had any training yet, as you can see by her expression. 

——–

As my mother grew older, it didn’t take her long to learn how to manipulate people with a look. 

My mother is the second from the left on the top row of this class picture. Notice the deadpan stare. She can’t look at the boy next to her, but her hand on his shoulder is sending a message: “Don’t mess this up.” The teacher’s expression is not one of great enthusiasm to be near her, either. He’s seen that stare from my mom before. 

——–

Back at home, you’ve got the three sisters, my Aunt Susi,  my Aunt Gerda, and my mom. They are all practicing a different look.

Aunt Susi – “Yeah, like I care.” Aunt Gerda – “What do you think you are planning?” My mom – “Don’t even think about doing that.”

——–

Again, where did this all come from? Clearly, from my grandmother Lina. 

Here is a picture of my grandparents with my mom and Uncle Joe (the middle child of the family)

Everyone is trying to smile, that is, except my grandmother. She has the look. She’s saying, “I don’t think I like this, so you are going to do it again.”

——–

Notice in this picture, my grandmother is smiling. She’s looking right at the camera. But not my mom. She’s practicing the I’m not going to look at you, but you know I’m watching look. 

——–

My grandmother trained my mom well. Look at her with her hand on her hip; that look of confidence and control, as my grandfather has the look of benign compliance. 

——–

Does that stance and look of my grandmother look familiar?

——–

That was growing up in Germany. Now we are in America. Here’s my mom practicing her look on my dad. Try to surmise what she is planning. Look out, Dad!

——–

When my sister Marion, her first daughter, was born, my mom had plans for her. So many looks to teach her.

——–

When I was born, look at the pleasing look (eyes looking off to the side) that my mom had on, knowing that she finally had a child to utilize her skill with “the look.” Notice the look on my face, even at that age, realizing that this pleasant face had some hidden secrets behind it, and that I had better learn what those looks mean. 

——–

Then David came in 1993. Another grandchild to exploit with “The look.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to look at me,” she thinks. “Two can play that game, and I have more practice than you.”

——–

But having more than one grandchild can be a bit overwhelming, especially in your 80s. 

——–

Well, that’s my research into “the Look.” It’s a pity she never taught it to me; it seems to be only passed on to the females of the species. I would ask my wife about it, but I’ve already seen the looks on her and her mom’s faces, and trust me, I’ve got the message.