Southwest Flight 1120 Restored My Faith in Humanity

Growing up, we hear countless stories of superheroes, fighting monsters and risking everything to save the planet. As we get older, we begin to realize that there is more to a superhero than a cape, a mask or extraordinary abilities. Living in a world where Superman and Spiderman are both make-believe, I never thought I would see a superhero in real life—until Flight 1120.

On March 4, 2020, my packed schedule had me getting up an hour and a half earlier than normal for a 4:15 am class at the gym. I then had to rush back home to change clothes, grab my luggage, and leave for the airport to board my flight by 6:30 am. I was traveling from Chicago to Orlando to keynote a national conference. However, I was unusually exhausted that morning in a way that even my early start could not account for. It may have been the combination of a semi-restless night and the familiar excitement of getting to do what I was put on this earth to do: inspire people. Knowing that I’m about to impact people's lives is usually enough to give me that extra push I need to face the day’s obstacles, the ones I wake up to as well as the ones waiting for me when I arrive. But today I was struggling. My normally upbeat walk, big smile and warm personality were missing in action, like a student absent for roll call on the first day of school.

I tried to fight it with the tools that I often speak to my audiences about. For example, focusing on those things I could control and not those I couldn’t. Being tired was something I could control; after all, it is not a physical obstacle or an illness I can catch. It’s a feeling, sometimes a powerful one, but nonetheless something I could control if I was willing to. As I made my way to the airport, I gave myself a pep talk, telling myself that I could and would overcome this feeling of exhaustion. Another thing I teach audiences is to focus on what they have and not what is presently escaping them. In this way, I found myself focusing on the opportunity I had to live my dreams, building a new thought pattern as I traveled to the airport. Sometimes I have to be my own hero. I don’t like the pressure of rushing for a flight, but I knew that I was cutting it close.

For some reason, my favorite flight is the first one of the day. When I arrived at the airport, everything appeared normal. As normal, that is, as things could be, given that the entire country was on high alert because of COVID-19. Many people were wearing masks, using hand sanitizer and elbow-acknowledging one another in place of the customary handshake or hug (bummer, I’m a hugger). I remember thinking They are taking this way too far.  I knew I had no underlying health conditions; my age was of no concern because the virus was only supposed to affect the elderly and those with compromised immune systems. (Plus, I’m almost ashamed to say this, but for the sake of transparency I will say it anyway. At that point in time, there had not been any reports of African Americans contracting it. Plus plus, to add to my sense of ease, my thirteen-year-old son told me that he had done the research and black people could not contract the virus. Looking back on it, I cannot tell you how embarrassed this makes me.) Finally, it was all too easy to listen to the messages of our country’s leadership telling us to not panic. For all these reasons, I must admit I was not as concerned on that day as I should have been. The impact and gravity of the situation simply had not hit me yet. I guess my mind was on the excitement of delivering my keynote.

I mentioned the words of our leadership because often when we want to do something that’s not quite right, or even dangerous, we turn to what we think of as a credible source for confirmation. We might say we’re seeking advice, but in reality, we’re looking for approval or validation to do what we already know we want to do. As I was walking out of the house, my wife asked me if I thought it was a good idea to travel with this virus looming. I quickly pointed to the President’s words. Why? Because I had already made up my mind that I was going. The best example I could find of this comes from the book of Kings in the Bible.

Solomon, king of Israel around 970 BC, is often considered the wisest man who ever walked the earth. Upon Solomon's death, his son Rehoboam took over the throne. One day, the entire assembly of Israel came to Rehoboam and begged him to lighten the load that his father had put on them. Rehoboam replied, “Go away for three days and then come back to me.” These people came to their newly appointed king looking for a hero. He didn’t wear a cape, but he was capable of solving their problem. When they had gone, he consulted the elders who had served his father. He asked, “How would you advise me to answer these people?” They replied, “If today you will be a servant to these people and serve them and give them a favorable answer, they will always be your servants.” But Rehoboam was not satisfied with their advice.  

So he went to his friends and asked, “What is your advice? How should we answer these people who say to me, ‘Lighten the yoke your father put on us’?” As I pondered this, I realized that Rehoboam had already made up his mind before he asked the question. I now see that this is true of most people who come to you for advice; they really don’t want advice; they want someone who will agree with them. Rehoboam did not require someone who was going listen objectively; he just needed some warm bodies who would listen without interrupting as he worked through his thoughts out loud. 

I noticed that Rehoboam changed his approach depending on whom he was seeking advice from. When he asked the elders, his tone was mild and lacked any punitive connotation. Let’s take another look at how he approached them: “How would you advise me to answer these people?” That was it. Nothing more and nothing less. He asked as if he really wanted their advice; remember, they counseled his father, and they had ample experience dealing with the people and solving complex issues. These men knew how to analyze what was going on and render sound, rational advice. Experience and wisdom were the tools from which they drew their conclusions. The elders gave the king hero advice; let us revisit their answer: “If today you will be a servant to these people and serve them and give them a favorable answer, they will always be your servants.”

Perhaps it was this mention of serving the people that threw him for a loop. He was young, and I can imagine that in his youthful eyes kings (heroes) don’t serve, they get served. When the elders said ‘serve,’ they simply meant to take the assembly’s complaints into consideration and try to give them what they were asking for. Heroes, whether make-believe or real, have always served. Batman served Gotham, Superman served Metropolis, Black Panther served Wakanda, Dr. King served the Civil Rights Movement, Mother Teresa served the poor and Gandhi served as a spiritual leader. Servant leadership should be a prerequisite of heroism. I guess Rehoboam overlooked the latter part of their answer, “…they will always be your servants.” In plain English, if you’re a hero to them, if you listen, lighten the load and show concern, they will in turn be yours for life. But that was not the answer he was looking for, so he went to his peers.

In front of his peers, Rehoboam took a very different tone. Perhaps the elders had irritated him to the point that he could no longer hide his negative feelings. He phrased his question differently, and this provided the lens he wanted his friends to see through to give him ‘advice.’ It also offered the texture needed to construct a response and indicated the backdrop against which he built his intentions. Let’s examine how he framed the question to his peers versus to the elders. Peers: “What is your advice? How should we answer these people who say to me, ‘Lighten the yoke your father put on us’?” Elders: “How would you advise me to answer these people?”

Having been an educator for over a decade, I know that framing has a lot to do with the answer you receive to your question. Framing tells those who are grappling with the question both how to approach it and how to answer it. It spells out for them what part of the question they are at liberty to answer, but it can also steer them in the direction the asker wants them to travel. Just as the elders had worked with his dad, Rehoboam had a working relationship with his peers. He knew how to arrive at the destination he was aiming for before he ever took off.

When he asked the elders, he said “How would you advise me?” Normally a question framed that way invites a response such as, “If I were you…” or “If you…” Responses like that allow the asker to consider a new point of view and make a final decision that is best suited to them. It provides a springboard for next-level and more robust thinking. It is a conditional response because it admits that the adviser could never actually be the one asking for advice and would not have known what they would have done in that situation if it had already happened. However, in Rehoboam’s case, the response was for a future situation, one that had not happened yet. Therefore, the elders could not pontificate what they might, should, would or could do. Hindsight is 20/20, but foresight is 50/50.

When he asked his peers, he framed the question in a way that allowed them to walk in his shoes, if only momentarily. He asked, “What is your advice?” This is quite different from “How would you advise me?” The former question implies that the adviser has permission to answer freely without fear of judgment. See, the advice I would give you might be quite different from my actual advice. It sounds like there is a double standard here, and that’s because there is. Like it or not, there are some things that people who are a part of a group can say to one another that outsiders cannot say, regardless of their familiarity. “What is your advice?” suggests I want to know what you would do. “How would you advise me?” suggests I want you to tell me what I should do.

At this point, Rehoboam was asking advice from people who had no more experience in the matter than he did. Usually within peer groups, the level of experience, cognition and pedagogy is similar. Zig Ziglar said it best, “It is just as difficult to reach a destination you don’t have as it is to come back from a place you’ve never been.” How could his peers adequately navigate him down a road they had never traveled? I have waited until now to reveal their response so that you could see the grimness of their answer: “The young men who had grown up with him replied, “These people have said to you, ‘Your father put a heavy yoke on us, but make our yoke lighter.’ Now tell them, ‘My little finger is thicker than my father’s waist. My father laid on you a heavy yoke; I will make it even heavier. My father scourged you with whips; I will scourge you with scorpions.’” We can all see the immaturity in this comeback.

He asked, "What is your advice?" and they gave it to him. In order to really understand why their response was so harsh, we must re-examine how he framed the last part of the question. He said, “How should we answer these people who say to me, ‘Lighten the yoke your father put on us’?” Note the “we,” which indicates that Rehoboam expected both himself and his friends to benefit from the outcome.

One could look at the framing and say that it was steeped in inclusive leadership, getting the stakeholders together to discuss the outcome. However, true inclusive leadership would have understood that all stakeholders, and especially the end client (the assembly of Israel), should have been present at this meeting of the minds. The “we” was Rehoboam’s way of saying You are in this process with me; if I win, you win. There was no, “If I were you" or "If you” in his peers’ answer. They said, “Now tell them…” It was as if they had become his mouthpiece, giving him the courage to walk the path he undoubtedly wanted to go down in the first place.

Here is the outcome: “Three days later Jeroboam and all the people returned to Rehoboam, as the king had said, ‘Come back to me in three days.’ The king answered the people harshly. Rejecting the advice given him by the elders, he followed the advice of the young men and said, “My father made your yoke heavy; I will make it even heavier. My father scourged you with whips; I will scourge you with scorpions.” So, the king did not listen to the people… When all Israel saw that the king refused to listen to them, they answered the king: “What share do we have in David, what part in Jesse’s son? To your tents, Israel! Look after your own house, David!” So the Israelites went home.”

We must realize that Rehoboam had the opportunity to be a hero, to serve as king for the entire assembly, but instead they all returned home, and he only ruled over the ones living in his town. When they all went back home, they did not give up their search for a hero; they made another man king over all Israel.

Just like Rehoboam, I could have taken the advice of my wife and our medical professionals but instead I turned to my thirteen-year-old and was confident that I would be fine. Just fine. Nonetheless, the deeper I got into the airport, the more I noticed that people were really taking the epidemic (at that point, it was not a pandemic yet) a little more seriously than I was. I started to feel more and more nervous. I was not at the panic stage, but I was close. People were coughing and sneezing, and you could feel the fear in the atmosphere, the sense that we had no idea what we were fighting. It was an unseen and silent killer that had swept through China and was now coming for us. But there was no turning back for me. I slipped through TSA Pre without a hitch. I really had to monitor my thoughts as I walked toward my gate; I remember looking at people to try and tell whether they were sick, as if I had some sort of special magnifying glass that could pierce through their skin and read their temperatures. 

I couldn’t wait to board the plane. Normally I board with business class but then make my way to the back of the plane. This time, however, I wanted to deboard as soon as possible because I knew someone would be waiting on me in Orlando. So, I headed for the front row. Across the aisle from me was a very tall elderly black man who, from a quick glance over, seemed to be doing fairly well health-wise. We exchanged hellos—he was very polite—and I sat in my seat as he continued to place his bags in the bins. Also, in his row were an empty middle seat and a middle-aged white man propped up against the window.

Sitting in the front row gave me a view of all the passengers as they boarded the plane. Just like any other flight from Chicago to Orlando, it was filled with parents and children getting ready to have some Disney fun. Toddlers could not hide their excitement, babies were crying, parents were yelling, and teenagers were buried face down in their electronic devices. Two women asked if they could sit next to me, and of course I told them I didn’t mind—until three minutes later, when I realized they were not going to stop talking. Over the intercom, the flight attendant announced that this would be a completely full flight and advised people not to pass up an open seat, but of course families wanted to stay together. Masses of people got all the way to the rear of the plane in their search for an empty row, only to be redirected back to the front, causing a traffic jam that jeopardized our chance of an on-time departure.

Just as the doors were about to close, an Asian woman got on wearing a mask. Here I go again, I had to monitor my thoughts. I travel the country teaching people how to recognize their bias by monitoring their thoughts, identifying why they feel the way they do about a group of people. I knew where my feelings were coming from; it was the recent news on the virus coming out of China. It was an explanation, but I sure wasn’t going to use it as an excuse. I exchanged pleasantries with her as she waited out the traffic jam next to my row. When it cleared, she took the middle seat across from me in the second row.

I rarely ever sleep on a plane, but on March 4th, 2020, it was lights out. As I drifted off, I heard the black gentleman across from me ask the flight attendant if he could have some ice to put on the back of his neck. I remember the flight attendant putting the ice inside a glove and passing it to the man, and then I must have fallen into a deep sleep. I don’t how long we had been in the air when suddenly I was awakened by the flight attendant saying, “Sir? Sir? Sir!” I opened my eyes to see him rushing to the front of the plane. Grabbing the mic, he asked over the loudspeaker, “Is there a doctor or nurse onboard?” Immediately a lady leaped to the front row and jumped into action. She asked, “Do you have a stethoscope and a blood pressure monitor?” The white gentleman who had been leaning on the window jumped out of his seat and put all of the armrests up, then helped to lay the elderly black man I had talked to earlier across the row.

The man was unresponsive. I was nervous, and I wondered if we would have to turn around and go back to Chicago or make an emergency stop along the way. I watched as the lady from the back, who identified herself as a nurse, checked the man’s vitals. Following the nurse’s instructions, his seatmate was elevating his head as the flight attendants held up his legs. As the nurse slid the blood pressure cuff up the man’s arm, she noticed that the pump was missing and asked if they could locate it for her. By this time, the man had begun to regain consciousness and the Asian lady stood up in her seat and began to ask him questions. Nurse one looked up at her and asked if she was a nurse, too; she replied no, she was a doctor. The nurse quickly told her to come on up and take over. As the doctor was making her way to our row, the gentleman from the window seat identified himself as a doctor as well.

At thirty-seven thousand feet in the air, this man was getting some of the best care from medical professionals that I had ever seen in my life. What are the odds that someone would get sick in the air and be surrounded by that many medical personnel? Then it hit me: I was surrounded by heroes from the moment I walked on the plane and did not recognize their superpowers.

As I boarded the plane, I was greeted by a Latino flight attendant who oozed with enthusiasm. One of his superpowers was his level of attentiveness. When I was awakened by the sound of his voice saying, “Sir, sir,” he was aware that something was wrong. And this was while he was still doing the job he was being paid to do. He was taking and making people’s drink orders, but his keen senses must have kicked in, and he was able to divert his attention to where he was needed most. His next superpower was his ability to stay calm in a crisis. When he grabbed the intercom, he did not scream or even sound paranoid or dazed; he calmly asked if there was a doctor or nurse on board. His last power was his ability to seek help. Who knows what could have happened if he had not had any one of those three powers?

Then we have the white nurse. First, I want to say that one of her superpowers must have been track and field, because she leaped from the third or fourth row in a single bound. In spite of this invisible virus that had the entire world on high alert, she was able to focus on the task at hand. Her other power had to be intuitiveness, because in between taking the man’s blood pressure she was instructing the flight attendants on the other things she needed, like orange juice, water, a wet towel and someone to hold his feet up. Her instincts and I would imagine years of experience, told her that his blood sugar had dropped too low. Remember, he was unconscious while she was ordering the orange juice and water. It was only when he regained consciousness that she confirmed he had hypoglycemia. But the nurse’s last superpower is one that might not immediately come to mind when we think of heroes: the ability to step aside. When the Asian lady identified herself as a doctor, the nurse let her take charge without a second thought. If fact, she insisted that the doctor take over.  

Finally, we have the mask-wearing young Asian doctor. She exhibited incredible powers of self-control for someone who looked as if she was still in residency. During this entire event, she never inserted herself into the picture until she was invited. She observed, like a teacher overseeing a student, and filled in with the questions the nurse had not yet asked. Her other power was her ability to care. Once the elderly man was stabilized, here was this doctor, sitting on the floor next to him for as long as it took for him to feel comfortable again.  

I realized in those few minutes that there is hope for us as a society. We are not beyond the point of no return. You might have noticed that I referenced race, age and sex. Sure, there will always be people who will never work together or never see that society is better when everyone lives in harmony. But I saw what can happen when people from different backgrounds came together for a common cause. In those few minutes I started to believe in humanity again. And I believe that when we as humans have a common enemy, there can be peace both within and across racial lines.

Those few minutes gave me several hours of teachable content. Although I will not give you several hours, I will make a few points for you to ponder.

Point #1: Removable Barriers

No one used race, gender or age as a reason to act or not to act in the best interest of the patient. Regardless of race, gender, age or anything else that separates and divides us, I believe that when called upon in a crisis, people will do their jobs. I’ve never seen a so-called racist not do their job because their company hired people of color. I’ve never witnessed someone who professes to hate people who are LGBTQIA+ not show up for work because they have to work alongside someone whose sexual orientation differs from their beliefs.

Point #2: Seek to Serve

Heroes seek to severe, not to be served. Without a cape, fanfare or name recognition, these everyday heroes looked the fear of an unknown virus in the eyes and jumped into action anyway. Servant leadership is not a term, it is an action. I can always tell in my travels, from corporations to colleges, when leaders are servant leaders. These people somehow always discover a way to put the needs of others above their own. I’ve witnessed CEOs place the needs of their employees above their own; I’ve watched as leaders of organizations and institutions have championed the idea of servant leadership and changed the trajectory of their nouns (people, places, things and ideas). When you place the needs of others above your own, in the parallel universe, the law of attraction will ensure that your needs are met.

Point #3: Judge Not

One of the major issues in race relations today is how easy it is for people to rush to judgment about others. We allow our biases to kick in and determine who and what a person is before we get to know them. Once we make up our minds about who a person is, they never get a chance to be anything else. Think about it. Jesus was a carpenter’s son, and many believe Him to be the savior. Michael Jordan was cut from his team, and people consider him the G.O.A.T. When I saw the Asian lady walk onto the plane, I knew what people were thinking about her. I choose to ignore it and not let my bias make a decision that my brain should be making. Judge not, lest you be judged.