An MBA student at Columbia, Tony, shared the following story with my class.

“When I was in high school, everyone would group together in their cliques. I too would sit with my circle of friends at lunch.

“Then one day I noticed this one student, Jeremy, sitting alone by himself during the lunch break. Other students would ignore loners like him, but I decided to go over and sit with him that day. And for the rest of the year, I often made sure to greet him and spend a few minutes talking with him.

“At the end of the school year, we were clearing out our lockers, and I noticed Jeremy there. He came over to me and said, ‘I want to thank you for what you did for me this year. I had been severely depressed. You helped me feel that I belong. I was almost suicidal earlier this year, and now I am back to being my old self. For this, I will be always be grateful to you.’”

Could a powerful act like what Tony did for Jeremy be formally embedded in a community? That’s what I learned from this story shared by Todd Kashdan, Professor of Psychology and founder of the Well-Being Lab at George Mason University, on my Intersections podcast (you can listen to our full conversation on Apple Podcasts or Spotify).

In the playground at his daughter’s elementary school is a purple bench. It was put up in honor of Jillian, a young child with Down Syndrome who tragically passed away from the flu. But more than a memorial, Jillian’s bench is a symbol of hope and kindness in this playground.

Todd shares: “If you can’t find someone to play with on the playground, if you sit on the bench, [it communicates to people that] you are waiting for someone to be socially heroic enough to say, ‘I can go to this student outside my social group, bring [them] in, be kind and generous, and potentially find a new friend.’”

Two very powerful things are happening here. First, by sitting on the bench, you’re signaling to the world that you’re looking for a friend. Second, by joining someone on the bench, you’re signaling to them that the world is a kind, accepting place.

It is teaching entire generations of children that it is normal — encouraged, even — to ask for help and to offer it. Todd invites us to ask how this bench may, over time, change the way children think of themselves (as cliquish, or as connectors) and how they think of the world (as a benevolent place, or as a lonely place). He then adds a scientific insight,  “Very small behaviors…can create powerful compounding changes in the course of people’s lives.”

A purple bench, and a convention that has formed around it.

Is there a value you would like people in your circle to practice — at home, in your community, or at work? What is a small behavior that would move people toward this value? And what is the “purple bench” that you can construct to catalyze this behavior from them?

Warmly,
Hitendra

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