choose to be positive
At the beginning of my 8 a.m. class one Monday
at University of Nevada, Las Vegas (UNLV),
I cheerfully asked my students how their
weekend had been. One young man said that his
weekend had not been very good. He’d had his
wisdom teeth extracted. The young man then
proceeded to ask me why I always seemed to be so cheerful.
His question reminded me of something I'd read
somewhere before: “Every morning when you get up,
you have a choice about how you want to approach life
that day.” I said to the young man. “I choose to be cheerful.
Let me give you an example,” I continued. The other 60
students in the class ceased their chatter and began to
listen to our conversation. “In addition to teaching here at
UNLV, I also teach out at the community college in
Henderson, about 17 miles down the freeway from where I live.
One day a few weeks ago I drove those 17 miles to Henderson.
I exited the freeway and turned onto College Drive. I only had
to drive another quarter-mile down the road to the college.
But just then my car died.
I tried to start it again, but the engine wouldn?t turn over.
So I put my flashers on, grabbed my books, and marched
down the road to the college. “As soon as I got there I
called AAA and asked them to send a tow truck.
The secretary in the Provost's office asked me what
had happened. “This is my lucky day,” I replied, smiling.
“Your car breaks down and today is your lucky day?” he was puzzled.
“What do you mean?” “I live seventeen miles from here.”
I replied. “My car could have broken down anywhere
along the freeway. It didn't. Instead, it broke down in the perfect place:
off the freeway, within walking distance of here.
I'm still able to teach my class, and I've been able to arrange
for the tow truck to meet me after class. If my car was meant
to break down today, it couldn't have been arranged in a
more convenient fashion.” The secretary's eyes opened wide,
and then he smiled. I smiled back and headed for class.
So ended my story to the students in my economics class
at UNLV. I scanned the sixty faces in the lecture hall. Despite
the early hour, no one seemed to be asleep. Somehow,
my story had touched them. Or maybe it wasn't the story at all.
In fact, it had all started with a student's observation that I was
cheerful. A wise man once said, “Who you are speaks louder
to me than anything you can say.” I suppose it must be so.
— Author Lee Ryan Miller Story from his book Teaching Amidst the Neon Palm Trees
at University of Nevada, Las Vegas (UNLV),
I cheerfully asked my students how their
weekend had been. One young man said that his
weekend had not been very good. He’d had his
wisdom teeth extracted. The young man then
proceeded to ask me why I always seemed to be so cheerful.
His question reminded me of something I'd read
somewhere before: “Every morning when you get up,
you have a choice about how you want to approach life
that day.” I said to the young man. “I choose to be cheerful.
Let me give you an example,” I continued. The other 60
students in the class ceased their chatter and began to
listen to our conversation. “In addition to teaching here at
UNLV, I also teach out at the community college in
Henderson, about 17 miles down the freeway from where I live.
One day a few weeks ago I drove those 17 miles to Henderson.
I exited the freeway and turned onto College Drive. I only had
to drive another quarter-mile down the road to the college.
But just then my car died.
I tried to start it again, but the engine wouldn?t turn over.
So I put my flashers on, grabbed my books, and marched
down the road to the college. “As soon as I got there I
called AAA and asked them to send a tow truck.
The secretary in the Provost's office asked me what
had happened. “This is my lucky day,” I replied, smiling.
“Your car breaks down and today is your lucky day?” he was puzzled.
“What do you mean?” “I live seventeen miles from here.”
I replied. “My car could have broken down anywhere
along the freeway. It didn't. Instead, it broke down in the perfect place:
off the freeway, within walking distance of here.
I'm still able to teach my class, and I've been able to arrange
for the tow truck to meet me after class. If my car was meant
to break down today, it couldn't have been arranged in a
more convenient fashion.” The secretary's eyes opened wide,
and then he smiled. I smiled back and headed for class.
So ended my story to the students in my economics class
at UNLV. I scanned the sixty faces in the lecture hall. Despite
the early hour, no one seemed to be asleep. Somehow,
my story had touched them. Or maybe it wasn't the story at all.
In fact, it had all started with a student's observation that I was
cheerful. A wise man once said, “Who you are speaks louder
to me than anything you can say.” I suppose it must be so.
— Author Lee Ryan Miller Story from his book Teaching Amidst the Neon Palm Trees
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