Whenever students come into my classroom or see me around campus and say, "Hey, Dr. Spivey, how are you?" I always reply with the same answer. I smile in return and say, "Great!" No matter when or where, that's what I say.
I firmly believe that we choose our attitude. And when I'm at work, I always choose my attitude to be "Great!" It's not fake. It's not cheesy. I legitimately do my best to be "Great!" when that person is asking.
Recently, a student caught on to my pattern. She asked me, "Why do you always say 'Great!'? You can't possibly be in a good mood all the time, right?" I told her, "I just choose to be in a good mood. I don't believe in letting whatever else is going on around me dictate how I should act toward others. That's all." She didn't seem satisfied with that answer, commenting that being sad or angry or any other emotion is part of life, so it's okay to be honest about it. I nodded along, but then told her to come closer--I would let her in on a secret.
"The reason I say what I say," I told her, "is that I have to say it." She was a bit puzzled. "If I come into class moping," I said, "the entire class will be lost. Everyone will feel that negative emotion, and students won't be ready to do the work I want them to accomplish. When you're the boss, you don't get to have negative days in front of those people that rely on you--in my case, my students. That's why my students will never know if I have the flu, if I'm in pain, if I just lost a loved one, if I'm exhausted because I only got two hours sleep, or if I'm ticked off at something. My negativity will never come through. Because it can't. I want my students to be at their best. So I promise to always be at my best. Even if I don't feel like it."
She understood, but I don't think she was fully convinced of that approach to life. I told her that when she's in charge someday--of a business, of a family, of an Army unit, or of a classroom--she would understand. She would have a responsibility to be "Great!" We chatted for a few minutes more, and she left my class smiling. "See you next week, Dr. Spivey," she said. "Have a great rest of your day."
"You know I will," I replied.
I firmly believe that we choose our attitude. And when I'm at work, I always choose my attitude to be "Great!" It's not fake. It's not cheesy. I legitimately do my best to be "Great!" when that person is asking.
Recently, a student caught on to my pattern. She asked me, "Why do you always say 'Great!'? You can't possibly be in a good mood all the time, right?" I told her, "I just choose to be in a good mood. I don't believe in letting whatever else is going on around me dictate how I should act toward others. That's all." She didn't seem satisfied with that answer, commenting that being sad or angry or any other emotion is part of life, so it's okay to be honest about it. I nodded along, but then told her to come closer--I would let her in on a secret.
"The reason I say what I say," I told her, "is that I have to say it." She was a bit puzzled. "If I come into class moping," I said, "the entire class will be lost. Everyone will feel that negative emotion, and students won't be ready to do the work I want them to accomplish. When you're the boss, you don't get to have negative days in front of those people that rely on you--in my case, my students. That's why my students will never know if I have the flu, if I'm in pain, if I just lost a loved one, if I'm exhausted because I only got two hours sleep, or if I'm ticked off at something. My negativity will never come through. Because it can't. I want my students to be at their best. So I promise to always be at my best. Even if I don't feel like it."
She understood, but I don't think she was fully convinced of that approach to life. I told her that when she's in charge someday--of a business, of a family, of an Army unit, or of a classroom--she would understand. She would have a responsibility to be "Great!" We chatted for a few minutes more, and she left my class smiling. "See you next week, Dr. Spivey," she said. "Have a great rest of your day."
"You know I will," I replied.