The Big Impact of Small Gestures

Notes from the aisle of an airplane

It’s three weeks ago, a Thursday, and I’m on a United flight from SFO to Columbus Ohio to give a book talk to 1300 educators from across the Midwest. It meant getting up at the butt crack of dawn. But as I enter the jet bridge, I think to myself at least I’ll get a ton of work done.

I board, and an older white man sporting badges and a lanyard stands with his back to the cockpit door and hands me an antiseptic wipe. I take it. “It’s not every day the pilot hands out wipes,” I tell him. He smiles. “I get that a lot. But I’m a flight attendant.”

I’m mortified.

I’ve just made the BIASED assumption that a dude handing out antiseptic wipes must nevertheless be flying the plane simply because he’s a white male. How’s that for ingrained assumptions and implicit bias? “It happens!” Says a younger male flight attendant next to the first. “All the flight attendants are male on this flight!” I look over at him and notice his name badge: Liam. I sheepishly smile, and apologize for my gendered and racial assumptions.

I find my seat and stow my bags up top and under the seat in front of me and sit. I gulp down my large Peets cold brew and mull over the order in which I will attend to my various writing tasks. We take off. The minute the double ding signals that we’re above 10,000 feet, I pull out my laptop and connect to the WiFi. Except I don't. And I don’t and I don’t and I don’t. I decide I’ve jumped the gun. I give it two minutes. Then five.

My frustration builds and my eyes wander over to Liam, who stands at the front of the cabin swabbing the countertop and even the floor with antiseptic wipes. He’s very thorough. I want to tell him about the WiFi, but don’t want to mess with the order in which he’s getting his work done. The minute he’s done cleaning, I get up and ask him if he can take a look at the WiFi because it doesn’t seem to be operable and I’m trying to get a bunch of work done. He says absolutely. He goes over to a cabinet, peers in and maybe flicks a switch or presses something, gets on his phone. But nothing happens. About ten minutes later he makes an announcement. “Ladies and Gentlemen we know the WiFi is out. The pilot will attempt to re-set it.” I sigh and decide that I’ll start writing my pieces in Word and upload it all when I finally get some WiFi. Periodically I check the WiFi though, because I need to look at email, read online documents, and engage on social. Time and time again, nothing. And even when I’m not deliberately checking the WiFi, my fingers instinctively run the mouse over to the dock on my laptop to pull up my unreachable email.

Forty-five minutes after my attempts to connect to WiFi began, Liam comes over to me. He’s tall and slender with big brown eyes that look young and are the dominant feature of a face largely covered by a black mask. His brown curly hair is a puff atop his head. His sideburns come to the bottom of his ears. He crouches down so we’re on the same level. “Unfortunately, it’s not going to be working. I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to get work done,” he tells me. His voice is helpful and kind. I thank him for the update.

Then, because I love people, I talk to him. I learn he’s been a flight attendant for all of three months. And he loves it. And that being a flight attendant is paying for flight school. And that he’s building seniority with United, and he will be considered an internal hire when he applies to be a pilot. As he says all of this, he cranes his neck to gaze at the flight deck and nods with pride. I notice the red lanyard around his neck that says “Contract now!” I ask him about it. He says the flight attendants’ union has been fighting for two years.

Liam then leaves me and I hear him make another announcement. “Ladies and Gentlemen the WiFi is out, and unfortunately we’re not going to be able to fix it, but we do hope we can make up for it with our terrific service for you today.” I chuckle thinking about the boldness of Liam’s proposition. Then I realize that just saying it goes a long way toward making it so.

The next time Liam passes by me, he hands me a handwritten notecard from a stack in his hand and walks away. In scrawled black ink he says he knows it’s frustrating not to be able to get your work done, and he’s drawn a little airplane with a heart flying through and he wishes me a good day. When he comes by me next, I ask him how old he is and find out he’s twenty-one. Now I’m even more impressed. This kid understands how far kindness goes on the job. I praise him for that, and for his work ethic, and for his willingness to go beyond what is required.

“The older flight attendants said I didn’t need to write cards, but why wouldn’t I? We have them for a reason.”

Humans 1 - Technology 0

Have you met a Liam lately? Or perhaps you’re showing up in the world like Liam? How do you like to get your kindness on? Comment below!

xo

🤗 Here’s a hug for anyone who goes out of their way to be kind to someone today.

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