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"How are you (doing)?"
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| Georgiana Sook Class of 2019 |
I hear it
everyday from friends, coworkers, classmates, professors, drive-through
workers, telephone salespeople--nearly everyone I encounter.
Unless I'm
having a great day, I fumble, trying to quickly decide whether the next words
out of my mouth will be deceitful, vague, or sarcastic. Some of my most common
answers are: "Oh I'm doing!" or "Oh, you know!" paired with
a forced smile and uncomfortable laughter.
Other
favorites include "just another day in paradise!" and "living
the dream!" because those are hyperbolic enough to clearly relay sarcasm,
but playful enough to not burden someone with genuine concern or obligation to
follow up.
I've
realized most people ask and keep walking, leaving approximately two and a half
seconds to answer the question, thank them for asking it, parrot it back, and
hear their answer before they're out of earshot.
What are we
saying when we do that? Our words are saying "I care" while our
actions are saying that we don't really care at all, and that actually our
lives would be pretty inconvenienced right now if the answer is anything more
than a few words.
It's not
because we're cold and unfeeling; it might be the case that we really do want
to know but just don't have time for the conversation at that moment.
But it's no
big mystery, then, why people don't answer honestly. There's an unspoken rule
that says whatever you say must be brief and mostly pleasant.
Well, we
know that the reality is that sometimes people aren't doing well. How is it
that we'd like them to answer?
"Well,
I ran out of medication this morning, so my crippling anxiety is going with me
to class to give my presentation, but overall I'm good!"
"Well,
complete exhaustion and lack of desire to continue to exist kept me in bed
through my first two classes, but I made it to the third one, so things could
be worse!"
"Well,
I've been feeing an intense sense of purposelessness in my life and cried
myself to sleep last night because the future feels like a frighteningly
uncertain abyss, but oh well, haha! Have a good day!"
Obviously
these are not socially acceptable answers, so they say "fine!" or
"good!" or "not bad!" and in the end, nothing worth
communicating really gets conveyed at all.
Worse,
these shallow interactions teach us to assume that those who ask how we are
doing aren't actually asking, which just perpetuates the societal problem we
have with open communication about mental and emotional health. Even when
someone really does want to know, we usually default to our normal answer and
mumble something vaguely positive that indicates nothing about how we actually
feel.
Ultimately,
this habit alienates us from one another by reinforcing our natural inclination
to hide anything about ourselves that might be unappealing. It inhibits the
empathy and human connection that can only result from shared authenticity.
Moreover,
it's a lazy question. What are we really asking? How the sum of the events in
their life is making them feel at the moment? If we really care, let's quit
being vague. Let's ask more specific questions that show we care, and let's
actually listen to the answers.
Here are some you can try at home:
What things have been bothering you lately?
What made you feel most alive this week?
What's been the most challenging part of today?
What's the best idea you've had recently?
How have you noticed yourself growing as a person?
It's
fascinating how many people you'll catch off guard by asking them questions
that make them think and allowing them to express themselves. We're not used to
people really caring.
At some
point in transition from childhood to adulthood, people quit asking,
"Where does it hurt?" when they see you're upset. I guess that's
because the answer is usually "inside" or "everywhere" and
you can't really point to either of those places.
There's no Neosporin that can disinfect the cuts from nasty
words.
There's no neon pink cast to be signed by all the people who
love you when your heart gets broken.
There's no princess Band-Aid to stop the bleeding when you
fall for someone who isn't good for you.
There's no sparkly purple inhaler to supply oxygen when the
loss of a loved one knocks the breath out of you.
There's no cool story that makes you look heroic to go with
the scars you collect inside.
As we get
older, our pride blows up and it's not cool to admit we're hurting. We learn
how to keep our eyes dry and voice steady so that no one ever doubts how
independent and tough we are. But if I know one thing to be true about people,
it's that everyone's got a little part of them that's hurting somewhere. Don't
just ask them how they are. Ask where it hurts, and listen. There's healing to
be found just in being heard.
Georgiana Sook, of Owensboro, Ky., is a sophomore McConnell Scholar studying English, philosophy, political science, and psychology.