“Be the reason
someone feels loved
and believes in the
goodness in people.” 
Roy T. Bennett

With joy, enthusiasm, and gratitude, on August 1, 1984 I began a new job in Santa Clara, one to which I would devote the next 31 years of my life. A job, like any relationship, I suppose, has its ups and downs. There were times, more often than not, when I loved the work I did and the people with whom I collaborated. On most work days, when I woke up in the morning, I looked forward to the new day and the challenges it would offer. In fact, I found it difficult to think of what I was doing as “work.” I enjoyed my responsibilities, the opportunities which opened up for me, and the people with whom I interacted day-in and day-out. Some might say I had a dream job. I did.

The reality of life, however, is that circumstances change. Leadership changes. Coworkers come and go. The climate of a workplace is significantly affected by such transitions. Many of the changes were beneficial to the organization and rejuvenating for me personally. Some, unfortunately, had just the opposite effect. 

By March 2015, the effect of a series of changes in the workplace made it perfectly clear to me that it was time for me to move on with my life. Each day had become a burden. I felt intensely unwanted and unappreciated by leadership and by a number of my colleagues. I dreaded getting up each morning. I began to question the integrity of continuing to work in such a toxic environment. I was proud of the number of years I had devoted to the institution, but in my heart, I was resenting each and every work day. I knew that it was time to go. Ten years ago this month, I gave notice of my decision to retire in June 2015. 

Throughout the past ten years, I have struggled to leave that job. When I am awake, the job, with all its highs and lows, is a part of my past — a chapter of my life story which I closed a decade ago. When I’m sleeping, however, I am continually haunted by dreams of nonsensical situations, none of which actually happened, involving vivid images of real-life characters. Most of these dreams involve conflict, frustration, anger, and feelings of alienation. They happen more often than I would like to admit, as recently as two nights ago. 

As I reflect back on the last ten years in that workplace, I realize that I made a costly mistake. I thought it was more important to be right than to be nice. I constantly challenged decisions and policies which I perceived to be inconsistent with the principles of Catholic Social Teaching I was being paid to share with my students. Political correctness was given a higher priority than integrity and justice. Rather than join-in and simply go with the flow, which would have enabled me to maintain the approval of my colleagues, I chose to rock the boat in an attempt to help my coworkers see the potentially harmful consequences of their views. I paid dearly for this decision, though I have no regrets about having done so.

In my retirement, I have enjoyed a very different approach to life. Hardly a day passes that does not offer me multiple opportunities to be nice to people. Walking through the mall, in my neighborhood, or even in The City, I make it a point to greet people, establish eye-contact, and, when possible, strike up a conversation. I also look for opportunities to help people with small tasks — picking up something that had been dropped, holding a door open, helping someone to cross a street safely, or keeping an eye on a stray child until he is reunited with his parent. These are simple things I can do to make a positive contribution to the world. I may not remember all the things I do for others, but I’m guessing that the recipients of my kindness might remember them longer than I do.

Be nice. It really is that simple.