Fly the Skies: Friendly or Not

At Newark Airport yesterday morning a group of us stepped up to the TSA pre-screened line. Having done the extra paperwork and having allowed the extra scrutiny by the government, I look forward to the shorter line. Yet, I noticed the agent turning away many of those who approached her. Confident that I had been vetted, I approached the agent and she scanned my ticket. “Nope” she cheerfully said, “you don’t have access.” Determinedly I scanned my boarding pass again, but did not hear the usual three beeps allowing access to the shorter line. As she pointed her finger to show me the way, I joined the other, much longer, line. Apparently the TSA occasionally refuses even those who are validly pre-screened as part of their security procedure. Yet what fascinated me was the palpable glee on the agent’s face as she denied access to many fliers. Most of the time she wouldn’t even look at them while she pointed to the end of the other line. As I watched she would sometimes wag her finger in the faces of some of the fliers telling them they were refused and their wait was about to become much longer.

Yesterday Newark Airport was a laboratory of emotion, self-esteem and personal interaction. Like most days for each of us, it offered the possibility of acceptance and rejection, success and failure, and control along with lack of control. But even more powerful was the glimpse into how most people are treated in life and how depersonalizing that is.

Watching the faces of individuals in the airport I saw anger, despair, helplessness and frustration. Rarely did I encounter people smiling or walking confidently. Yet as I thought about it, it is natural to react to what has become a threatening environment. Long lines are exacerbated by agents telling you very little news and yet demanding you stay in them. Everyone tries moving as efficiently as possible and become irritated when someone in front of them is too slow. And of course, there is the strip search.

What struck me is that, despite some excellent TSA agents (aside from the one at the pre-screen line) who were trying to help people and keep a smile on their face, the situation and the necessary security treats people in a very inhumane way. When that happens, people respond to the feeling of threat by fighting, fleeing or freezing.

What we need in life to make us feel human and special is easy.

·         Use names. Remember the sweetest sound to the human ear is the sound of their own name.

·         Smile occasionally. We live in a world where people smile less frequently, especially in new situations. We need others to smile and allow us to relax.

·         Create eye contact. There is nothing better for the soul than to know you’ve been acknowledged.

·         Treat others with respect. We are working our way through this world like everyone else. Give others the respect you deserve.

I’ve flown over a million miles and that is just on one airline. Traveling can be challenging, and it’s the perfect analogy for life. We are all going some destination. Either we can be concerned only about ourselves, or we can realize that everyone else is a traveler too. The traveling is much better when we all respect each other, mount the challenges together and then enjoy the ride.

Death Be Not Proud: Our Life Legacy - In Memory of Chris Peterson

Chris Peterson died yesterday. For those who did not know him, he was a brilliant scientist, a very humble man, and someone who changed the world around him. Those of us who knew him could not leave his presence and be unchanged. Learning of his death this morning saddened me. Yet I cannot claim any special relationship to Chris. I was one of his many students. But he had an amazing ability to make any of us feel incredibly special and unique when we were in his presence.

Over the years, in front of many audiences, I've challenged people to examine their lives and wonder what legacy they will leave. So many of us (myself included) think about the things we've done, the work we've created, or the achievements we've accomplished. In the end, that's not the legacy we leave, not really.

We change people by how we make them feel about themselves and Chris did this in a big way (it helped that he was a big man with a big heart). The memory I will always treasure about Chris happened at the First World Congress of Positive Psychology. It was early afternoon on the second day of the Congress and I was giving my brain a break from all that I was learning when I spotted Chris in the lobby sitting by himself. I walked over just to say "hi" and then move on so I wouldn't disturb him. He greeted me by name (I was stunned he remembered my name) and invited me to sit down. For the next two hours we talked about positive psychology, his work and what was next. Yet what I remember most was his interest in my work; the focus on greatness and bringing positive psychology into the corporate world. He made me feel like an equal (which I clearly am not) but listened respectfully to what I had to say and liked some of the ideas. It was an amazing moment for me.

At that moment it was not his degrees, nor all the articles and books he had written, nor all the classes he had taught that made him great. What Chris did so well was transform other people because, to quote his words "Other people matter" and he lived that motto with every fiber of his his being. That is the legacy I think of when I remember Chris. And it challenges me to wonder about my own.

So death be not proud, though you've taken someone renowned in his field, a leader of science. Sadly death you've taken someone who left a legacy of tenderness, humor, compassion, humanity, and yes I will say it greatness.

In the end, Chris, you are and always will be a great teacher. Thank you.

I've attached a link to Chris' last blog post in Psychology Today for those who would like to read it.  http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-good-life/201210/awesome-e-pluribus-unum