My Speech in Which I Say Deep Things about Life. Really.

What follows is the slightly-edited version of the "devotional" or speech I gave to a roomful of colleagues and teenagers this past Friday. 

Last month, as some of you know, I went to Ecuador, South America, for my sister’s wedding.  Now that’s not quite as exotic as it might sound because my mom is from Ecuador, so I’ve been there about 30 times in my life.  But as often as I’ve been there, there’s one thing I’ve never gotten used to--every single time I’ve landed on the runway after the 3.5-hour flight from Miami, the same thing always happens--almost everyone on the plane goes nuts and starts cheering.  Loudly.  Now these people aren’t cheering in a  “Yay, we’re happy to be in Ecuador” kind of way; it’s more of a “Yay, we did not crash and burn over the Pacific Ocean” kind of way.  And I think that's an important distinction to make.

Of course while all of this cheering is going on, the Americans on the plane who travel to Ecuador as tourists never join in the celebration because, well, cheering when a plane lands is just not something we do.

As for me and my half Ecuadorian, half American self, I just kind of smile in that smug, superior American way, thinking, “Oh, those silly Ecuadorians--how unsophisticated.”  But this year, for whatever reason, I wasn’t quite as dismissive and instead, the experience got me thinking about what it means to be American.  More specifically, why are we Americans not the kind of people who cheer when our planes land? 

I came to two conclusions.  The first is that we as a people tend to be reserved.  I think it’s safe to say that most of us feel awkward around big displays of emotion, that we aren’t likely to strike up conversations with strangers or even sometimes with people we know, and that we don’t feel any great need to greet each other with a kiss on the cheek like everyone does in Latin America.  The second conclusion I reached is that we Americans generally assume that things are going to happen as expected; if the boarding pass says we’re arriving at a destination at a certain time, we expect that to be true, and we get mad if it’s not.  [Editor's Note: Refer to previous blog entries re: the Delta Airlines Fiasco of 2010 and the American Airlines Fiasco of 2011.]  We’re more concerned about arriving late than we are about not arriving at all.  So when we land, we’re not thinking about celebrating the fact that we landed safely; we’re thinking about how to beat the crowd so that we can be first in line through customs.  (It is possible, I suppose, that that’s just me and my obsessive compulsion to turn everything into a competition, but I kind of don’t think so.)

To be honest, however, as American as I might be when it comes to emotions and expectations and even actions, I actually really like the fact that Ecuadorian passengers on a plane cheer upon landing, and even though it’s not what we’re used to, it seems like something we should be doing, too.  After all, why shouldn’t we cheer for a safe landing?  Why shouldn’t we express appreciation for the people--like pilots--who help keep us safe?  More importantly, why shouldn’t we be happy to be...alive?

Now those of you who know me may be wondering what on earth has happened to me because really, I’m not a very warm and fuzzy kind of person.  My favorite things are sarcasm, complaining, and gossip--not necessarily in that order--and here I am talking about cheering.  So yeah,  what has happened to me?  The answer, I guess, is that I’m a complex person.  Maybe this latest airplane experience has changed me forever.  Maybe this is the new and improved me.  Maybe this year I will be warm and fuzzy.   I don’t know--stranger things have happened.

What I want to say, though, in all seriousness and in conclusion is that life is a beautiful thing, and everyone, either directly or indirectly, knows people who have struggled or who are struggling to hold on to theirs.  So I think what my message is today is that we need to be less reserved, to cheer more often for the good things that happen to us, and to be more enthusiastic about things that we tend to take for granted.  We need to be happy about the little things and the big things in life and not be afraid or too reserved to express that happiness in an outward manner.  

And even though I may never achieve overwhelming warmth or any fuzziness whatsoever, I’m going to take my own advice.  The next time I land in Ecuador, I may not actually cheer out loud because, --please-- let’s not get carried away.  But at least next time I’ll be cheering...in my mind.  And at least that’s a step in the right direction.