Louder than Anything You Can Say

I teach economics at UNLV three times per week. Last Monday, at the beginning of class, I cheerfully asked my students how theirbusiness Air Dancer weekend had been. One young man said that his weekend had not been so good. He had his wisdom teeth removed. 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. "I choose to be cheerful."

"Let me give you an example," I continued, addressing all sixty students in the class. "In addition to teaching here at UNLV, I also teach out at the community college in Henderson, 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 quartergiant Inflatable Christmas 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.

I scanned the sixty faces in my economics class at UNLV. 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.

Deepak Chopra has quoted an Indian wise man as saying, "Who you are speaks louder to me than anything you can say." I suppose it must be so.