Be Andy.

September 16, 2021

The light had turned green, but the Mazda in front of me didn't move. I watched as the driver—let's call him Andy, both because the name sounds like an adjective and also because my real friend Andy would totally do this himself in the same situation—got out of the car and stepped a few paces over to the beautifully-landscaped median between us and the opposing traffic. While I watched, he bent over and plucked a rotting banana peel from between the autumn flowers in the display. As he was moving back toward his open door with the peel held gingerly between his thumb and forefinger, Andy caught my glance, smiled slightly, and shrugged, as if to say, "Yeah, I know I'm probably fighting a losing battle, here, but I can't help myself."

Given the fact that I'm paid to think about these things, I found myself wondering about Andy's mother. How had she taught him not only how to be a person who doesn't toss his trash where others have to deal with it, but to be a guy who cares enough about the world that his first impulse is to clean up after people who do? Andy looked like he was in his late teens or early 20s. Had his mother made him clean his room while growing up? Do lots of chores? Had they taken trash bags with them when they went on hikes? Had she lectured about the need for any footprints he leaves in life to be footprints that add value to the world rather than suck it away? Or maybe Andy had come to the conclusion all on his own that everyone has the superpower to make the world a more beautiful place, one banana peel at a time. Whatever path Andy (and his mother) had taken to that banana peel, I found myself feeling grateful that there are people like him in my orbit, people who see such problems as personal challenges and then act to solve them.

You can be Andy. Your kids can be Andy. So can I. I hope that the Andy in my story feels as powerful as he is.

—Deb