to fly in their shoes
Hello, my name is Virginia also known as Judgy-McJudgerson.
...but I don't want to be.
There is the well known saying that we all know too well--try walking a mile in their shoes. Usually, when we hear this it's because we've been a little too cavalier, aka far too judgy.
As a person, I know that I am by far too judgy for my own good. Whether it be in the mall, a coffee shop, in my car witnessing the other drivers interesting decisions in Seattle traffic. I throw thoughts, that are typically far from positive, their way without them knowing. The second I do this it sends this horrible feeling into my gut. Because, I know that we as humans are so flawed. That these people around me that I'm witnessing--they're flawed, that me sitting in my car calling someone an idgit for cutting me off in the slick rain in sixty mile an hour traffic--I"m flawed too. I am more flawed than the next person, despite their gum chewing and foot tapping.
As a flight attendant, we see a world of different people pass through our doors. We have routes that are famously known for being boozy, for leaving the plane trashed worse than Johnny Cash's dressing room after a show, and for those that have a finger on their nose pushing it just a little higher than everyone else's. There are looks that we give, hovering over our service cart that say "do you see this girl I'm serving, she's wearing a mud mask during a flight" (before you ask, yes this really has happened) or an extra wide smile to punctuate the challenging customer asking for the works plus some.
Sadly, these are actual thoughts when you see people come from all different backgrounds, you see things that people won't believe. Does this mean thought that we have the right to notice their different styles? Their personalities in correspondence with certain routes? Or how bout the simple shoes on versus shoes off inflight debacle? Do we, as flight attendants--as people--, get to notice these traits in this way?
My last flight yesterday reminded me of how wrong I have been, how many things you can miss by letting the negative override the positive or the unique in someones ways, personalities, styles.
Last night I met a middle aged man named Sherman who refreshed my thought process.
Yesterday was my last day of a four day trip. It was long and parts of it slightly brutal. By the last day of your trip (especially the longer it is, or the more days you've been on) you are feeling fatigued, you are counting down each leg, each hour, how many passengers you have--praying for less passengers and maybe even a cancelled turn. My last day was a twelve hour day (not bad in the realm of flight attendants), and my last leg was Seattle to Portland at twenty three thirty, twenty seven minutes to do a water and orange juice service for sixty four passengers by yourself.
I got to row 8, a gentlemen sitting by himself.
I offered him OJ or water.
Diet Coke.
Sir, I'm sorry, we only have OJ or Water on this flight due to the shortness.
I want diet coke. Give me a diet coke.
I'm sorry sir I don't have a diet coke, it's too short of a flight.
What about in first class? They have diet coke? I'll get up and get it.
--he began to stand.
Sir, I need you to sit down, it's bumpy and the seatbelt sign is on.
--my alert going up that this could actually become a problem.
Fine. I'll call him.
--he reaches up to press the call button. My other flight attendant peeks his head out of the galley and I motion him to say that I got this. He nods and continued serving first class.
Please, sir, I'm sorry we don't have diet coke, I have to keep moving.
I know you do, just give me a diet coke! He began to stand again.
--this time I pressed the call button for my other flight attendant. Eagerness in my eye telling him to come.
Yes?
Could I please have a diet coke for this gentlemen--I motion to him, he was looking more frantic by the minute. Something was wrong, but I couldn't quite tell what yet. Something was off. It was then that I noticed he had a knotted piece of rope that he kept fidgeting with in his hand. To help him focus?
Once my other flight attendant came back with his soda, I opened it and handed to him.
Smiling, my heart softened by the relief brought to his face with his first sip.
Thanks miss.
Of course. Can I get anything else for you?
No, I'm good now.
I continued to do service, my thoughts on my last interaction the whole time. Who was this guy? How could I make him feel better? I finished my service with ten minutes till our descent into Portland. I walked up to first class to grab a spare cookie, then walked straight to my diet coke passenger.
I offered him a cookie, which he kindly accepted. He revealed to me that he has Aspergers, not only that but that he didn't like all of the sounds on planes, they made him nervous and it took extra care for him to focus on anything else. So when I couldn't offer him what he had focused his energy on getting he had a problem.
I spent my last ten spare minutes talking to Sherman, diet coke man. He was kind, funny, and just a human being with life going on inside just like all of us--flight attendants and passengers.
I realized that I was close to 'writing' Sherman off as a disgruntled and entitled passenger who wanted me to make an exception for him. But, because I finally realized something was off, I got to meet a wonderful guy who shared a piece of his story with me. I wasn't able to put myself in his place, to see where he might be coming from...I couldn't, for even a minute, put myself in his shoes. Thankfully, I did get there eventually today and in that I got to help him in a very small way. Because I took a minute to hear his story to see him and not just pass him off for another face in a metal tube, I found myself having a better day, smiling wider, and genuinely happy to be working a job where I get to hear stories like Sherman's.
Hello, my name is Virginia also known as Miss Judgy-McJudgerson.
...but I have hope that Sherman's story will help me put this flame out and replace it with eyes to see what others don't and ears to listen to my passengers unique and untold stories.
