We don't have to do any of this, but maybe we should anyway.
In which a TSA agent makes me reconsider the merits of going above and beyond with unnecessary kindness and a little bit of goofy pizzazz.
I made my travel itinerary a bit more punishing than in maybe needed to be, but there I was, arriving at the airport at 3:47am without going to bed at all, thirteen minutes before the international customs and TSA even opened, lining up with my fellow travellers, meaning that I was in line with a bunch of people who were also en route to Las Vegas, meaning there were three identifiable groups of bachelor parties, adorned in their matching visors and beaded necklaces and t-shirts with a comically unflattering picture of their respective bros cropped on the chest, clapping in sync as another dude entered through the automatic doors one-by-one, arms outstretched, finger pistols to the sky, all of this coming to an absolute crescendo when the man of the hour, Brad, stumbled in with a venti coffee clutched in his hand - I know his name was Brad because chants of ‘BRAD! BRAD! BRAD!’ commenced immediately upon his arrival (of course his name had to be Brad, how could it have been any other name?)
The security gates opened promptly at 4am and we shuffled with our roller suitcases and neck pillows (I make a note to consider once again the benefits of buying a neck pillow even though they’re annoying to carry around) through the ropes that corral us in the direction we need to go. We are greeted by the cheeriest TSA agent I’ve ever come across. Shane (of course his name is Shane, how could it have been any other name?) is friendly and jovial and cracking jokes, his booming voice filling up the hangar-like room we find ourselves in, all bleary-eyed and caffeineless. He gives us the efficiency and safety run-downs with carefully practiced puns about shoes and belts. He jokes that he will take our electronics and play candy crush all day if we leave them behind. He shakes hands with the grooms (Brad and his contemporaries), razzes them a bit, says happy wife, happy life! about eight times in a four minute period. He has those who have already had coffee raise their hands, those who need a coffee raise their hands next, points out people who look like celebrities in the line and asks for autographs (okay that guy might have actually been a football coach from the NFL, who am I to know).
Shane is a one man show, succeeding in making a room full of groggy, sleep-deprived travellers smile and giggle and shake their heads in amusement while waiting in line at an airport at 4am; an incredibly grand feat if I’ve ever seen one.
Admittedly, I fought the charmed feeling that eventually took over in the end; my first reaction was, ‘this is obnoxious, he is so loud and booming and I would like to be quiet, I would like to pretend I am not surrounded by other humans whatsoever even though we’re about to sardine ourselves onto a plane, I would like to be left alone in my groggy, somewhat grumpy state, I would like to put my noise-cancelling headphones in to drown out Brad And Company, I avoid all audience participation at all costs, thank you very much.’ But even with his cheesy jokes and puns and razzing sense of humour, I was struck by the fact that all of it was so completely unnecessary - it wasn’t expected, it was not required of him - and he did it anyway.
Shane could have done what most likely every other TSA agent has ever done before him: rattled off bags and shoes in the bin, remove your laptops, all gels and liquids in a clear plastic bag, ma’am stand here, sir if you could wait one minute, this way, you can line up in line four, thank you etc etc, pointing where to stand, barely making eye contact. His job is not to make us smile or to entertain us. He’s there, arguably, to keep the line moving, to show us where to go, to expedite the process of making sure people aren’t bringing hairspray or parakeets across the border. And hey, maybe he mostly does his shtick to keep himself entertained in a sea of zombie travellers who otherwise would look right past him. The point is, he went above and beyond to be kind and bright and goofy when he didn’t need to, and his unnecessary effort was a shimmering gift to all of us.
A few weeks ago I had dinner with an old friend who is considering moving out of the city. ‘It’s changed you know,’ she said, ‘people are rude and impatient, people don’t move out of the way on the sidewalk, it’s loud and expensive and the art isn’t the same and transit’s not the same and there’s no reason to stay anymore.’ This sentiment has been floating around a lot since the beginning of the pandemic, and of course the city itself is always a living, breathing organism that is shaped by the people who live there (and this is to say nothing of the larger conversation about having liveable, affordable cities so the people that shape it from all walks of life can remain in the there). It’s a similar sentiment I’ve heard in work places, at gyms and yoga studios, at restaurants and bars, and even in high school: ‘the culture sucks, everyone is closed-off and rude, I don’t like it here.’ While I have felt these things myself in many settings, I also think that 1. we see what we want to see to an extent 2. we can go looking for examples of the contrary if we want to 3. I just can’t conclude that it has to stay this way and 4. I certainly don’t want it to stay this way.
What I’ve found, with great, scientific proof (if I were to figure out how to present this in a scientific way) is that people are overwhelmingly good, and deeply wired for connection, and maybe a little lost on how to reach out across the invisible social lines of The Way We Usually Go About Social Settings and aren’t sure where to start.
I think we actually have the ability, and even the responsibility (self-mandated), to shift the environment for ourselves. Want to make gym friends? Say hi to people at the gym; compliment their bright socks, commiserate on your mutual hate of burpees, your mutual appreciation for when the Beyonce song comes on, blaring for the final five minutes of class. Find the artists and makers and doers in your town. Show up to events, go to shows and concerts and pottery painting nights. Invite your friends, even if they said no thanks the last three times. Invite people you don’t know well who you want to be your friends. Feeling like your light is dimmed? Find the people who seem to have found the light, and hitch your weary heart to them. Beauty and goodness and warm, open hearts are all around us.
Sometimes we have to be the first volunteers to put ourselves out there and shout puns and dad jokes out towards a line of zombie travellers in the hopes that it might make a difference to someone’s day and make goofy t-shirts for our group of friends and cheer loudly when they walk through the door even though it’s early and even though it might embarrass them. I think Brad And Company would agree.
Ways to connect
Poetry Club - Tuesday, June 13th at 7pm EST
Poetry Club is the internet’s chillest-yet-tender club in all the land. Bring a poem you’ve written or a poem you love based on the month’s theme. This month: Poems On Identity.
No need to register for paid Substack subscribers; a Zoom link will automatically be sent to you - if you’re a free subscriber, you can register for Poetry Club here!
In Good Company - Sunday, June 25th at 10:30am - 12pm EST
Our next gathering of In Good Company (a monthly writing workshop) is going to be Sunday, May 25th. We’ll be writing about the way introduce ourselves.
No need to register - a Zoom link will be sent out to paid Substack subscribers 24 hrs before.
The Collective Conversation - Tuesday, June 27th at 7pm EST
This month for The Collective Conversation, we’re discussing identity, perception, and the way we show up in the world - what parts of ourselves we choose to share, and when/ where/ with whom we feel most ourselves.
Register here for this event!
Thanks for making the internet a cool place to hang out.
xo jess.
I love Shane and I loved this reminder. Thanks for writing Jess x
Loved this Jess, hooray for sparkly TSA agents ✨