I (Still) Have Hope for the Human Race: "You at Your Best."

First day of classes for my seventh semester at BYU. I needed an easy 2 credit class. In fact, I was seriously searching to find the most laughable excuse of a college course I could find. A joke class.

As I was laboring over the registration process, I recalled a conversation I had with a previous American Heritage Student. While we were in the Review Room, she had a number of papers on the table that didn’t look like they related to the course. So I asked her about them.

                “Oh, this is for my positive living class.”

                I think I laughed. “Positive living? What does that even mean?”

                She was surprisingly enthusiastic, “Oh, it’s really great actually. The class is supposed to help you learn how to handle all the pressures of college life.”

                Thinking about my love of easy A classes, I ventured another question,

                “How hard is it? Do you have do a lot of work for it?”

                “No, not really. But there is a paper you write at the end of the semester.”

                I was suddenly disinterred, even though paper writing has always been a preferable measure of testing to me.

                “What’s today’s assignment?” I asked next.

                “Well, I’m practicing my breathing. I’m supposed to sit and ponder about my life for ten minutes.”

                And then I really was laughing, because it all just sounded to perfectly ridiculous. I’m sure I asked some other questions, like how many credits it was, and what the course was actually called, but in my head I didn’t think I would end up registering for it…until the middle of summer when scheduling problems and intense class registration changed my mind. 

                So come the first day of classes, I find myself sitting in the Science and Practice of Positive Living class of about 15 students in a tiny basement classroom. The teacher was young, cheerful, but perhaps looked a little naïve…too nice. The set-up was perfect, just what I was hoping for.

                I was pretty skeptical from the start. Especially when our professor told us he had received his PH.D. in Psychology (I’ve always been unjustifiably wary of psychologists) and proceeded to tell us all about his work for students on campus who are struggling with mental/emotional problems, depression, etc…he told us we should take advantage of the free therapy and student help that his office on campus provides. By this point, I was wondering if I was in a class with a bunch of depressed kids who couldn’t handle the stress of college. Yes, an unforgivably negative view of human nature. I was initially relieved somewhat when he asked us why we had chosen to take the course. Only two other students were in my boat—looking for an easy 2 credit A. Most everyone else had just heard about it from a friend (which I guess I had as well). Very few actually found the course for themselves and signed up.

                But still skeptical, I was surprised about the first assignment given. He called it the “you at your best” introduction. We were to go home and think of a specific event in our lives that showed each of us at our best selves. Then we would tell the class during the next period as a way of introducing ourselves. I wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea. While I’m extroverted in thinking/judging/politics…I rarely tell people about how I feel or what’s important to me. I leave the personal stuff to small, unpublished relief society testimony meetings.

                Our professor also told us not to pretend or attempt humility. “Brag about yourself,” he basically said. The idea was to get us to think really positively about ourselves for once. I was still not too sure.

                It took awhile to think up something…says a lot about my character…but finally I decided on a memory I related in an earlier blog regarding an experience with my American Heritage students. I always feel like I’m most in my element and at my best when I teach and work with other people. So I was ready, but entirely unenthused.

                When I got to class this morning, the others seemed to be really excited, but I quickly pulled out my phone and started a game of chess since I didn’t have any service down in the basement and could think of little else to do. Listening wasn’t part of the game plan. We weren’t being graded on anything.

                But almost at once the stories told started to surprise me. This little group of what I had once stereotyped as obvious and unusual misfits started to shine. And to my infinite surprise, I eventually had to put down my phone and pull out a small notebook. Because there words were inspiring. And I didn’t want to forget. 

                The first was from a less than well-dressed guy who I had already grouped as one of those loud, annoying people that dominate class discussions to no one’s gratitude. I hate to admit it, but I also didn’t think he was that intelligent. I was hardly surprised by his decision to volunteer first. Then began his story.

                During the summer, he works as mentor to juveniles who are struggling in some way, often being raised in broken homes and with little to no moral underpinnings in how they were raised. He told of a particular experience with young one boy and how the ability to work with an influence him and brought him a love for others that he had never felt before. The principle of his best self was love.

                A much more high maintenance girl from the back volunteered next. She surprised us all in her first sentence. “This summer, I volunteered to work with children in Nicaragua.” She lived in the poverty conditions of the people with whom she worked, helping to bring about a better life style for the village inhabitant. But the story didn’t end there. During her stay, she had gotten an intense eye infection that was not properly diagnosed for some time because the village didn’t have the right medical tools. When she eventually got the right attention, she had to keep her eyes shut for three days while she lay in bed in order for them to recover. Three days is a long time to sit and think to yourself while observing nothing. She said the experience taught her the power of having a positive outlook. She didn’t think to complain, but instead was grateful because later, when a child in the village had a similar infection, she was able to give him all the medical attention that he needed. And then, in case you doubt her conclusion to having displayed positivity in hard times, note her response to some of the class questions.

                “So are your eyes healed now?”

                “Yeah. Well, mostly. I lost some sight in my right eye.”

                “You mean it’s permanently damaged?”

                “Yeah,” she shrugged, as if it was nothing.

                “Were you angry when this first happened to you?”

                “Oh yeah…I mean, I was there to help the people of Nicaragua, but I couldn’t do that while lying in bed!”

                That answer made me smile. Not a word of anger toward her situation, just her inability to serve others for three days. She showed us the power a choice. Choosing to respond well to hard times makes them…well, less hard. 

                Two other girls shared next. One of them not only served a mission in Lithuania, but then came home and got a job teaching at the MTC while also starting up her own little school for violin lessons. She told us that she had learned the value of patience. The other girl was an EFY councilor this summer and is a Y-serve coordinator. Similar to the first guy who shared, she said… “I learned to love with a capacity I didn’t even know I had.” Love and Patience.

                Two guys shared stories about their athletic dreams. They both taught the power of determination. One of them, for example, loved playing football. It was his life obsession. But he got injured and lost most of the of the sight in his right eye.  Unable to any sport that required any sort of depth perception, he constantly kept working hard and ended up being a champion at wrestling and a track team sprinter in almost every event. I was impressed with his ability to adjust to life’s hardships and just keep moving forward.

                A pretty confident looking guy got up next and started with a light joke, but then got serious and explained that he has a strong desire to do everything he can to care for people. So, for his eagle project in high school, he organized and sent care packages to Bolivia—including Books of Mormons and written testimonies in each one. He also talked about his mission. Service was his passion.

                And finally, before the bell rang for class to end, a more quiet girl stood up and told us about working with Broader Horizons and how her most cherished experience is being able to influence others’ lives for good. She loved when people felt confident enough to open up to her. Through her words, we all seemed to come to one conclusion. She obviously pre-judged no one, and her loyalty made her an admirable friend and desired confidante.

                Of course, by the end of class, I was somewhat stunned. My own lackluster effort was almost an embarrassment. Of course, I really do believe that being a TA has brought out the best in me, but I was more ashamed at the fact that I was so willing to be negative and stereotype others around me as if they were less important. Hearing their stories humbled me, as I realized that all around us, people may be doing great things and being incredible influences for good. I understand that I am at a good university with people committed to living high standards, but I still think my experience in the class gave me a hope for the human race. I realized that the reason we never hear about all the good and humble people in the world is because they are just that—humble. They don’t just openly proclaim to the world the quiet, and seemingly small but actually significant, acts of courage, determination, patience, love, service, loyalty, and sheer goodness that define their very lives.

                I wonder just what would the news be like if occasionally, instead of focusing on all the bad (that we do need to be aware of) we had news days where we focused only on the good. I bet there wouldn’t be enough time to report it all. And that’s when I caught sight of the real value for this “joke” class. 

                Positive living isn’t just about learning to handle stress. It’s about changing our perspective on life. It’s about realizing that our response to our circumstances is a matter of choice. And perhaps most important of all, it demonstrates how to bring out the best in people—you look for it. Maybe, I wonder, the world would be a better place if instead of setting an expected standard of war and pessimism, we set an expected higher standard for cooperation and peace. If maybe, instead of just teaching our kids to avoid drugs and alcohol, we taught them to serve in their communities and seek to model virtue and morality in their everyday lives. It’s not just about avoiding the negative, it’s about embracing the positive.

  

     It is interesting to note that almost every experience shared included interaction with others. When we are at our best selves, it is most often when we are interacting in positive ways with those around us. When we have a sense of our own shared humanity, when we look for that common good within our own souls, we are able to have a higher vision of ourselves and the world around us. And that’s the sort of thing that brings positive results.

In short, I’ve started to believe that to really have hope for the human race, we have to believe in its potential. We have to look for, influence, and try to promote the good in everyone. Or as my professor might have said…we have to each become our best selves. Promote and become “you at your best.” 

That’s what I learned in just three days of the first semester. Hopefully it won’t stop now.