The Mirror in the Face
You may have heard of mirroring behavior. But what if it was taken to a whole other level?
Dr. Rosen
I’m staring at my laptop screen reviewing her file when she knocks on the open door to my office. Glancing up, I see a young woman with a deeply serious face. I stand and show her a welcoming smile.
“You must be Shannon. I’m Dr. Rosen. Come in.”
Her mouth gives a nervous attempt at a smile. She slumps into the room and takes the chair I point her to, across the desk from mine. She hasn’t shut the door, so I go and do that before taking my seat.
She presents much as I expected: bright and alert but socially awkward. Neurodivergent, with associated social anxiety. Of course, the college has no access to her psychological records during the admissions process. But her mother Audrey, to her credit, gave me a detailed picture over the phone. Admirable due diligence on her part, so we can both figure out if Corbin College might be a good place for her daughter.
I smile again, trying to reassure her. “So, Shannon. I’m glad you chose to be interviewed as part of the application process. Tell me about yourself.”
Shannon
Tell me about yourself. She actually started with that. So glad I studied that post about “15 Questions You’re Likely to Be Asked in a College Interview.” Just have to remember what I rehearsed.
“Well, I’ve done pretty well in high school. I’m very interested in studying the biological sciences. Eventually, I’m hoping for a career in genetics research, possibly even medical school.”
From the look on her face I suspect I sound awkward, scared. Have to control that.
She reads her screen. “Well, your grades are excellent. Honors classes in Chemistry and Biology, even a Psychology elective.”
“Thank you.” Don’t mumble!
“Have you researched the science offerings here at Corbin? Of course we can’t match the large universities in terms of facilities and research dollars. But we do have excellent professors, as well as a great track record for students going on to grad school and med school. Some of our students even do graduate-level research here in their senior year. We’re a small liberal arts college, but we like to say we ‘punch above our weight.’”
I’m frowning. What the hell does that mean?
She laughs. “Just a figure of speech. It means that although we’re small, we pride ourselves on providing an excellent education, and that our graduates do very well.”
Dr. Rosen
Careful with the metaphors. No doubt she’s literal-minded. Funny, I used to be that way myself. Worked so hard to overcome it that now I use figurative language too often.
Also, don’t try so hard to sell her on the school. Sure, there’s pressure to get enrollment up. But admitting a student who can’t succeed here would be a disservice to everyone. College admissions is such a tightrope these days, especially at small schools.
“So tell me: what got you interested in applying to Corbin?”
She hesitates, gathering her thoughts. I wish she didn’t seem so nervous.
“Well … I did actually look into your Biology and Chemistry programs. I read the faculty profiles and the data on graduate school placements. So, I think Corbin might suit what I want to do very well.”
Is she just apprehensive, or is she holding something back?
Switch tacks. “Did you get a chance to tour the campus this morning?”
The question surprises her. “Yes.”
“And what did you think?”
She stares past my shoulder, where the office window shows a view of a tree-lined path, the library in the distance.
“Oh. It’s nice. Very nice.”
“Do you think you could be happy here?”
“Oh, I …”
Has she actually not thought about that? Not good.
“Yes, I think so.”
Key issue we have to open up here. From what her mother Audrey said, Shannon was in special education till 8th grade, then mainstreamed. Academically she’s done very well, but has no friends, almost no social life. She’s in therapy, and Audrey and the therapist both have tried encouraging her to engage more with her peers—without much success.
Audrey also hinted at another issue, possibly more serious, but she wouldn’t go into details. She said the medication’s helped, and that this “might not show up any more.”
So here goes the can opener: “Shannon, I always like to talk about this with students who have not been away from home before. A lot of them find living on campus a very difficult transition. Have you thought about how you will handle the social aspects of a resident college?”
Shannon
How much did my mother tell her? I know they had a long talk. Anxiety is pinching my stomach. Have to keep it under control.
“I - I have thought about it.”
“And?”
“Well … It’s important to me to be able to live on campus. It will mean I can begin to grow up and become independent. Yeah, it scares me. But I recognize that I need to do it … That’s one of the things I like about Corbin. I think a big university might seem more overwhelming to me. Corbin is small and, from what I can tell, values diversity. Students here post online about how they feel encouraged to be themselves. Even if they might be considered weird in other places, here they feel okay.”
Dr. Rosen
Poor kid seems terrified. How can I reassure her?
“I can tell you that is exactly right. We really do value each student as a person, and try our best to encourage them to become who they want to be.”
Not prevaricating here. This is one of the reasons I’m so proud of the school. But …
“But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Living away from home for the first time is a hard adjustment for most people. And, if you’re already shy or find it difficult to make friends, it can be really tough.”
Shannon
She’s sympathizing with me. But how can I make her understand? I mean, without showing her… ?
“I’ve always been introverted, and I do have trouble making friends. I see a therapist, and she’s taught me some strategies for getting along with people. I try to work on those. I mean, without mirroring too much.”
Her eyes get narrow. “Mirroring?”
“Yes. Have you heard of that? It’s a behavior thing.
Dr. Rosen
Mirroring: imitating the mannerisms or speech patterns of another person as a way to build rapport. Often adopted as a survival mechanism by people lacking social skills. In extreme cases, it can become pathological.
Is this the other issue her mother hinted at?
“Yes. I’ve heard of it. Is that a behavior you’ve used in the past?”
“Not lately. The meds they put me on when I was fourteen made me less anxious and … As long as I keep up the meds now I’m okay.”
Her eyes shift away. She’s hiding something, and I’m afraid it’s cranking up her anxiety even worse. I hate to press, but its critical for me to get a clear picture of the obstacles she would face living on campus.
“So taking the meds has helped with your social anxiety. Has it made it easier to make friends?”
A woeful expression flashes over her face. “No. I have no friends.”
Suddenly she jumps up, turns her back, covers her face with both hands.
Well, this is awkward.
“I’m sorry, Shannon. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Shannon
Buzzing in my head, prickling around my eyes. It’s happening, and there’s no place to run.
It started with what the psychologists call mirroring, copying other people’s gestures and ways of talking, to try to get people to like me. But then it turned into this impossible, freakish, physical thing that no one can explain.
The meds help. Usually it only happens now at night when I’m alone in my room, or sometimes with Mom.
But now it’s happening in my college interview. Likely ending my college career before it even starts.
She’s gotten up from her chair. She’s coming over here.
No place to run. No help for it. I drop my hands and show her my face.
Dr. Rosen
I’ve almost reached her when she turns. I jerk back, frightened for an instant, then simply shocked.
“Oh, my goodness!”
Where Shannon’s face should be is my own face, staring back at me—mouth open, eyes wide with bewilderment.
“You see my problem.” Shannon voice murmurs from behind the mirror. “It happens when I get too anxious. Makes it hard to be very social.”
“Yes, I can see how it would.”
Mirroring behavior turning into this. The pieces fit. Still, it’s amazing. “That is the most perfect example of holographic brain projection I’ve ever seen.”
The mirror vanishes, replaced by Shannon’s puzzled features. “Holographic brain projection? You think that’s what it is?”
“I’d bet on it. You’ve heard of HBP then?”
“I’ve read about it some. But most scientists don’t even think it’s a real thing.”
I touch her elbow gently. “Come and sit down.”
She shuffles back to her seat. When I’m back in my own chair, I’m relieved to see that Shannon’s face is still her face.
Shannon
Well, the worst has happened, and Dr. Rosen doesn’t even seem upset. Her eyes stare gently behind her glasses.
“I’ve actually made a study of holographic brain projection,” she says. “Of course it’s controversial.”
“My psychiatrist didn’t believe it—tried to convince me it was all in my mind. Even when I was sure it was happening right in front of him, he just shrugged and ignored it and said the meds should help.”
“Well, to a man with a hammer every problem is a nail.”
“What?”
“Sorry. I mean doctors, even the best of them, look at all problems through the lens of what they’re prepared to treat. But with HBP it’s not just the psychiatrists. Ever since the first studies were published in the late 2020s, researchers have given the idea little credence. I think that’s partly because it’s so difficult to reproduce. When they can’t reproduce something, they can’t study it.”
“I’ve also read that the effects never show up on photos or video. So scientists who write about it at all think it must be some kind of hypnosis.”
“I’ve read that too,” Dr. Rosen says. “My own guess is that it’s a brain mutation, which might mean we’ll see more and more of it over time—making it harder and harder to ignore.”
“So you think I’m a mutant then?”
She smiles. “Could be.”
Dr. Rosen
Ouch! That was the wrong thing to say. Shannon is visibly upset by the idea I think she might be a mutant. I need to repair this.
“Shannon, I think you are smart, courageous, and determined. And from the research you’ve done on BHP, I can also see that you’re motivated to independent study. That’s exactly the kind of student we look for here at Corbin.”
Her lips press shut. “But do you look for mutants?”
“We look for creative individuals who are self-directed. I honestly believe that description fits you.”
She tries to smile, then shakes her head, her expression returning to misery.
I try again. “As you’ve probably gathered, Corbin is a place for unusual people.”
She shudders, and the mirror reappears. She waves her fingers in front of her face. “But this unusual?”
“You’d be surprised.”
Her head tilts up, perhaps with a glimmer of hope. But the mirror in the face remains.
I make a risky decision. My own BHP is something I almost never talk about—and certainly never show in public. My projections run to simple things: images of myself, shadows, little clouds with scenes I imagine. I’ve never tried to fashion something so complex as a mirror. But if I’m going to reach Shannon and help her, the risk seems worth it.
I focus on the spot behind my eyes. The fuzzy buzzing starts in my brain.
Shannon
I don’t believe it.
Silver light shimmers on Dr. Rosen’s face. Next moment, I’m staring at the reflection of my face, which is also a mirror.
Reflections of mirrors march off into infinity.
Dr. Rosen is a mutant too!
“Wow.”
Her face reappears. “You see, Shannon. You’re not so unusual as you think.”
“You do it too. How long have you known?”
She laughs. “Since I was fifteen. Back then no one had written about it yet or even had a clue. I learned pretty quickly to hide it. Over the years, using meditation techniques, I’ve gotten so I can control it.”
“Really? Could you teach me?”
“I’d be happy to work with you on it. You know, my job is not only Admissions Counselor but also Student Advisor. Small school, so we wear many hats—I mean, do lots of different jobs.”
My mind is spinning. That would be so great. “Do you—do you think I’ve got a chance of getting accepted here?”
Dr. Rosen smiles. “Well, I’m certainly going to recommend it. The final decision will be yours, of course. But if you do decide to come to Corbin, I think you could be happy here.”
Great story... one that I need to reflect on for a while!