Last week, Anne and I experienced a rite of passage for new parents:
We traveled with infants.
The trip went as expected, and then some. We checked bags for the first time in years, held up the security line with our double stroller, and changed diapers on a hard plastic seat at the gate. We also, in a stroke of bad luck, spent eight hours waiting for our delayed flight to take off.
I am certainly not immune to the frustrations of travel. Despite the convenience of being able to fly anywhere in the world for less than $1,000, a delay of any sort immediately becomes a major inconvenience. I roll my eyes at the inconsistent demands of TSA agents, can’t stand people who disregard boarding etiquette, and don’t understand why most planes can’t take off on time.
On this recent trip, however, a few factors conspired to help Anne and I stay calm during a stressful experience with our new babies:
We had absolutely zero time pressure, since neither of us go back to work for months.
Our babies chose that particular day to be mercifully calm and quiet.
And, most importantly, we were treated to an inordinate amount of kindness from strangers.
One man, with two pre-teen kids of his own, offered to get me a cup of coffee, and insisted that Anne share his Twizzlers. Another, recognizing that we may have missed the gate agent’s recent update, walked over to make sure we had heard the latest. Multiple women offered to help us watch or hold the babies, and more people than we could count commended us for making it through such an ordeal with two infants.
As one woman put it: “I’ve been watching you guys this whole time, and if you can do it with a smile on your face, then I certainly can.”
Kindness from strangers helped turn a bad situation into a good one.
I expect this story will sound familiar to other new parents. In a society that feels increasingly isolated from one another, babies remain one of the few things that bring us together. While not everyone becomes a parent, practically everyone has some fond memory of children, whether their own or someone’s close to them, and this affinity bridges the gap between perfect strangers in a way that few other things do.
Reflecting on the experience in the car home from the airport, I was reminded of a quote from Jim Collins, the author of Good to Great:
“The most treasured gifts in the world are kind words spontaneously tendered.”
While compliments or words of encouragement may seem trivial, any new parent will tell you that they can make the difference between feeling like a failure and feeling like a success.
It is easy to forget that everyone fumbles their way through parenthood, and expressions of fellowship go a long way toward reminding us that we’re not doing such a bad job. “I remember those days” may just be a passing comment for the grandfather sitting across the aisle, but for me it is a pat on the back or an arm around my shoulder.
Having received my unfair share of this type of encouragement over the past few months, it is difficult not to wish that it extended to more areas of our lives. Maybe this is obvious, but togetherness feels good. It is a far cry better than the world we often choose for ourselves, shielded from those around us by AirPods and a downward gaze.
I’m still amazed, eight years after moving to New York, at the number of people who will look me in the eye for a brief second and choose not to reciprocate a good morning. I’ve been guilty of similar coldness, refusing to engage in waiting room banter or with an overly chatty salesperson.
In the moment, it often feels like we are defending ourselves and our precious time from the invasiveness of others. But having seen firsthand what it feels like to open myself up to that invasiveness, to let anyone who wants to approach us and talk about children, it’s clear that what we’re really doing is opting out of a key part of life that differentiates us from other species: The ability to bond over our common humanity.
In thinking about ways to foster this sort of togetherness myself, two general rules come to mind, for both giver and receiver:
For the giver: If it’s nice, say it out loud.
Too often we keep our kind words to ourselves because we’re self conscious of how they’ll be received, particularly by someone we don’t know. But as Anne and I can attest, small gestures go a long way. Nearly a week later, I am still thinking about the woman who walked over just to tell us we were doing a good job. When deciding whether or not to say something, consider how you would feel if roles were reversed.
And for the receiver: Accept kindness with an open mind and open heart.
We have become far too cynical about the intentions of others. Before having kids, I defaulted to “what do they want from me?” Now, I ask: “Where might this take us?” After the past few months, it’s clear that most people don’t have any ulterior motive. When someone offers to hold your baby in the airport, they just want to lend a helping hand.
We’re all just figuring this out as we go – and a kind word at the right time can make all the difference.
– Emmett
What I’m Reading:
Being kind is a daily, revolutionary, existential struggle – Jeff Giesea
“Cultivating kindness feels like having to tend a fire that I can never let burn out. I constantly have to feed it wood and protect it from the wind. My “wood” is sleep, exercise, gratitude, time in nature, fellowship, and a good book. My “wind protection” is setting boundaries on things that push me off balance, like drinking too much.”