Before the Bars Turn Pink

By Mark E. Smith

I’ve had the privilege of visiting Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, which goes by CHOP, several times recently. What I’ve learned has both strengthed and questioned my faith in mankind.

During my first visit at CHOP, I was struck by the level of graciousness among all employees, from the parking attendants to the doctors. I wondered, how does an organization with thousands of employees maintain such an inspired staff across all positions? What does CHOP’s human resources department know that others don’t?

I thought about this long and hard, as among my roles at my company is to ensure that our employees understand the importance of their work, the importance of serving our customers who rely on our mobility products. Yet, the more I thought about CHOP’s workforce, I couldn’t break the code.

Then I went back. And, informally, I studied every interaction I witnessed while I was there, from my interactions with others to witnessing others interacting. What I realized was that the secret to CHOP’s amazing culture quickly became not just apparent, but I felt it in every fiber of my being: shared humanity.

See, while CHOP is a great resource as among the best pediatric hospitals in the world, no one wants to be there. Children and their families are only there because they’re going through a medical crisis or disability, often a grave condition. As a result, everyone there is going through something, and that fact is known. As an employee, patient, parent, or visitor, you know that reality – it’s unmistakable when you’re there, people are in the midst of life’s most difficult circumstances. Therefore, the culture brings out nothing but kindness, compassion, and empathy toward everyone you encounter and everyone who encounters you.

When you visit CHOP, you’re issued a daily name badge, which includes your photo. Using an inexplicable security technology to me, when you exit the complex, pink bars void your name badge, noting that you’ve left the buildings.
Every time I exit CHOP, to the parking garage, and the pink bars appear across my day name tag, a big part of me wishes that name tag remained valid in the everyday world, where we, too, intrinsically treated each other with nothing but kindness, compassion, and empathy no matter where or who we are.


Doing Best Is Seeing Best

By Mark E. Smith

My wife and I were at church and a gentleman came up to us.

“I know it took your family more than most to get here this morning and I want you to know I appreciate that,” he said.

Based on his genuine demeanor, his words weren’t patronizing but compassionate and empathetic. Between my disability and our youngest daughter’s, it does take a lot for our family to get ready each morning.

What struck me about the gentleman’s kind words was that rather than being oblivious to our challenges or, worse yet, stereotype or judge us as that family with the wheelchairs, he saw us as real people doing our best.

Often, we see strangers who may appear out of the norm. Many of us are quick to make assumptions or judge others. I’ve done it and strangers do it to me. But, we know it’s not right. So, what’s the life-inspiring alternative?

What if like the gentleman at church, we simply extend everyone our sincere belief that most do their best? It changes the whole dynamic, doesn’t it? We go from judging to respecting, from differentiating to embracing. We rightfully apply a sense of humanity to all. As I always say, we never truly know what anyone is going through. Why not extend him or her the benefit of the doubt?

Being a semi-public figure, I have critics, people who, more bluntly, despise me. I recently met one at an event. The individual started out very hostile toward me, but by the end of the conversation the individual, who had a disability, explained that living with a disability is so hard that death would be a better alternative. The individual had expressed tremendous anger at me online, but I then in person understood that the anger wasn’t about me at all, but toward the individual’s own circumstance. The person was simply doing the best to cope, even though it wasn’t the healthiest way.

So frequently, we take strangers’ actions toward us personally and become angry or hurt. But, again, we have the ability to extend empathy and compassion. As one with a disability, I’m often a magnet for odd comments from strangers and I don’t take it personally, but presume that they’re doing their best. My wife and I once had a doctor, born and raised in another culture, ask us a myriad of questions about our family and life. He screamed, Congratulations!, after each answer. We weren’t offended, but recognized that he wasn’t raised with disability awareness, that he was doing his best. He genuinely meant well.

Yes, it’s true that there are people doing really lousy things. But, most people are truly doing their best. They may come from backgrounds and lifestyles different from yours or mine, with behaviors and ideologies we’d never engage in. Yet, there are reasons for why we each are who we are, and it’s vital to extend empathy and compassion to others, just as we wish extended to us.

The fact is, if we wish to see humanity at its best, we must first see the best in humanity.