Deep Dive Into Jane Lee

In our society, science, and even daily relationships, we often experience “invisible blind spots” where we fail to recognize the struggles or needs of others simply because their reality is entirely different from our own. As a future researcher or compassionate thinker, how can you consciously train your mind to look past your own personal biases? If you were to analyze your current school community or the field of study you are passionate about, who or what might be the overlooked “water-breather” that is quietly struggling in a blind spot, and what inclusive framework could you design to ensure their voice and needs are truly recognized?

Humans like groups. We were wired to be social animals, and we will die as social animals (although with the recent surge of individuality, it is uncertain if that statement still stands). We like being part of a pack, a circle that we feel belonging toward. It is why people join clubs, go to events, practice religions, create friendships, and adopt political views. In the end, much of it stems from a desire to belong. Within these groups, we create rules and systems that bring order.

Humans also like the idea of superiority. We like power. It is why corruption, bullying, exclusion, and discrimination occur. We are imperfect creatures, often drawn toward placing ourselves above others. Through this tendency, we have developed a sense of “us versus them”—good versus evil. We like the idea of being the “good guys.”

Many people create boundaries between “us” and “them,” but they fail to recognize that real life is not divided into neat categories. Reality is not black and white; it is a confusing blend of gray.

Because of this, one of the most important skills a researcher or compassionate thinker can develop is the ability to question their own assumptions. I believe that overcoming bias begins with recognizing that every person experiences the world differently. If I want to understand someone else’s reality, I must first accept that my own perspective is incomplete.

To train myself to see beyond my biases, I would make a habit of seeking perspectives that challenge my own. Rather than assuming that a problem affects everyone equally, I would actively ask who is missing from the conversation. Whose experiences are not being represented? Who benefits from the current system, and who struggles within it? By constantly questioning what I take for granted, I can become more aware of the blind spots that naturally emerge from my own experiences.

In my school community, one overlooked “water-breather” may be students who are quiet, introverted, or academically average. Schools often celebrate top-performing students, athletes, leaders, and those who are confident enough to make their voices heard. However, many students who do not fit these categories may quietly struggle with stress, loneliness, or a lack of confidence. Because they are not causing visible problems, their needs can go unnoticed.

To address this blind spot, I would design an inclusive framework based on three principles: listening, representation, and feedback. First, students would have opportunities to share concerns anonymously so that even those uncomfortable speaking publicly could be heard. Second, school committees and leadership groups would include students from a wider range of backgrounds and achievement levels rather than only high-achieving or highly visible students. Finally, regular feedback sessions would ensure that concerns are not only collected but acted upon.

Ultimately, blind spots exist because we assume that others experience the world as we do. The challenge is not simply to tolerate differences but to actively search for perspectives we cannot naturally see. Only then can we recognize the “water-breathers” around us and create communities where everyone has a voice.