Being happy helps you find empathy and compassion for others.
By: Michael Vinh Xuan Thanh
Tags: Depression, Empathy, Self Improvement, Education, Self-awareness

Standing in line at a coffee shop at LAX, I was spaced out and dead bored — I’d mistimed my arrival and ended up at my gate two hours early.

It was finally my turn in line when an elderly Chinese lady walked up to the counter in front of me.

The cashier patiently pointed at me and explained I was in the line before her. Another person understood immediately and moved behind me — the lady did not.

In fact, she didn’t seem to understand a single word. The worst part was when she misunderstood the cashier’s pointing as an indication I would be her translator.

She turned to me and started unloading in Mandarin.

I was trying not to sh*t myself because I simultaneously had an angry cashier pointing at me while blathering and an older Asian lady venting to me in a language I didn’t know.

Was all this trouble really worth it just for some coffee?

After about 10 seconds she realized I didn’t understand anything, and she turned back to talk with the cashier.

I looked at the cashier and just shrugged. It’s fine, just let her order her coffees. There’s nobody else in line, and with two hours until departure I basically have all night.

But the communication problems didn’t stop.

Cashier: “Do you want a regular coffee?” Chinese Lady: *holds up two fingers* Cashier: “…you want two coffees?” Chinese Lady: *points up at the menu* Cashier: “…okay, do you want two regular coffees?” Chinese Lady: *shakes her head, says words nobody understands*

At this point the cashier was exasperated and essentially gave up.

Cashier: “…okay, two regular coffees. $5.48.” Chinese Lady: *pauses for a moment, then fishes out and hands her a $5 bill* Cashier: “I… uh. No, the total is $5.48.” *points at $0.48 on register* Chinese Lady: *more Mandarin words, starts fishing for something in her wallet* Cashier: “I… uh… you know what? It’s fine. It’s okay. Forget it.”

I was actually having a pretty good time. Witnessing how difficult it was for a foreigner to order coffee made me realize just how much we like to over-complicate easy things.

And also how rude as f*ck many Americans are. Our country wholly lacks customer service etiquette, just as much as we have insanely rude customers. Everyone’s just mean and for no good reason.

If I was the cashier I would have just filled a cup with drip coffee and pointed at it to ask if that was what she wanted. There are plenty of ways to communicate besides words.

Things pretty much ended there — for everyone except me, that is.

After the Chinese lady handed over her money and took her coffee cups, I noticed she looked really sad.

And that was when I started noticing other things.

Her hair was frazzled. Her hands were shaking a bit. The USD bills she pulled out were from a folded envelope — super old-fashioned, and it reminded me of an elderly Vietnamese gentleman who sat next to me on a return flight from Japan and spoke not a lick of English. He, too, had a neatly folded envelope of American money, and not nearly enough of it.

She walked away looking really tired, and before I had the chance to keep wondering, the cashier didn’t skip a beat and immediately pressed me for my order.

I was suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling of sympathy.

I had and still have no idea what her circumstances were. Maybe she was ordering coffee for her and her husband. I wonder how old she is. We were at the Southwest terminal, so she might’ve been headed inland.

She could’ve just gotten off an international flight, and if that was the case, I could definitely sympathize with her weariness.

Am I overthinking things? It’s possible. Maybe she’s doing great and the coffee fiasco was just a small blip.

But what if it wasn’t? What if that was her first impression of the US? A cashier angrily pointing, rolling her eyes, and shaking her head while the poor old lady was trying to fish for bills inside her envelope.

I haven’t traveled to more than five other countries, but I’ve certainly never been treated this way at any other first-world country I’ve been to.

We don’t even have signs in multiple languages like other International Airports do — if you don’t know English, f*ck you I guess.

Especially since my family comprises immigrants, I and various other American-born ethnic people are in a unique position where we understand what it’s like to be on both sides of the border.

And when you understand things from both sides, you realize just how much happier the world could be if we all just relaxed for a second.

I’ve watched numerous exchanges between non-English-speaking people and aggressive customs agents/TSA personnel or even cashiers at shops, and it’s made me realize how many Americans are deeply unhappy with their own lives.

I don’t think many people, at heart, enjoy treating others like garbage. But when you’re unhappy and struggling, and you’ve been conditioned to believe all these stupid-ass things about foreigners, it’s not inconceivable.

I just want everyone to know — foreigners don’t all want Americans to die, and most of them don’t even want to come “steal” your jobs (jobs none of you are working, I might add).

I think of all these wonderful Indian, Saudi, Afghani, Syrian, Chinese, or other foreign people I know, and I just cannot fathom why anyone would have such deep hatred or fear for them.

They’re good people. They have dreams and aspirations (that don’t involve terrorism or drugs). They have family they’re caring for and places they want to visit just like you and me.

The only way we can really overcome this problem is through empathy, and it’s difficult to muster empathy when you’re deeply dissatisfied and struggling yourself.

I think if this had happened at any point earlier in my life, I wouldn’t have been able to feel the same compassion.

As a young person, it’s pretty easy to be steeped in a veil of arrogance because of how ignorant you are. You’ve yet to meet the thousands or millions of people far more skilled and intelligent than you, and you’ve yet to see the different countries and cultures that, at times, can completely change your worldview. This ignorance issue I attribute largely to academia, its failings as an institution, and its slow descent into corporatism.

I went thousands of dollars into debt to attend a university where “professors” read off PowerPoints downloaded from MIT and Stanford’s websites. I joined various clubs, groups, and activities only to meet other students whose only concern was getting trashed or laid.

Meeting new friends is nice, and I’ve met some great people I care about deeply to this day. But I can’t really describe to you the kind of sinking feeling you have when, as a shorter, unattractive, and heterosexual male, every female you speak to looks over your head and scans the room for other possibilities while you’re speaking.

On top of struggling to really open up to others or date properly, I was deeply afraid of graduating just to be stuck in a 9–5 job doing bad work for the rest of my life, and it demotivated me from actually pursuing anything worthwhile in my free time.

I was deeply dissatisfied and angry. I was lonely, I was bored, and worst of all, I couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about being alive.

Depression hit me hard — I could not figure out what my purpose was. And this time in my life was a time I clearly remember being a complete asshole to some of the people I knew.

I don’t know what happened or how I got out of it. Maybe it was just being away from the anxiety that is school for a few years and clearing my head. Maybe it was meeting new friends with similar hobbies, goals, and aspirations. Maybe it was finding time to figure out what my own priorities and desires were, both for my life and from potential partners.

But the world I see today is different than the world I saw two, three years ago.

When I look at people, I feel a curiosity and a compassion I’d never thought was possible. I see walking stories, bundles of joy and sorrow and dreams and aspirations waiting to be given form.

And it was the same for the old Chinese lady I saw. I only wish I had been more self-aware at the time — I would’ve happily purchased her coffee for her.

Never mind that I didn’t understand a peep of what she said. I wanted to send her off with free coffee, re-energized to visit a son or daughter she might not have in a place in the U.S. she might not have been going to.

And I hope one day, others, and you, would be able to find happiness in your own lives so you can see the warm colors I do — feel the happiness I do — as I plug away at my personal aspirations and goals.