Why and how we say hello


	Alan Bodnar, Ph.D. is the Co-Director of Psychology Training at Westborough State Hospital, Mass. and a consultant in the field of leadership development.

By Alan Bodnar, Ph.D.

It's been said that everything we do prepares us for the next thing, but I would have never believed there was a larger purpose to saying hello to everyone I passed on my college campus during freshman orientation so many years ago. Back then, it was part of the ritual along with beanies, rolled up trouser legs and recitations of the school's alma mater at the whim of any upperclassman who wanted to have a little fun. Fast forward to the present and my work as a psychologist at one of those gracious old state hospitals sprawled across acres of rolling farmland just far enough from the city to provide a restful haven from the stresses of life in the industrial Northeast. The hospital is a community of patients and staff and, as in any community, we are constantly passing one another as we go from one building to another.

If you fail to acknowledge your neighbor on the paths of the hospital grounds, no one will ask you to recite the Mission Statement of the Department of Mental Health or fine you a quarter. The only penalty for this kind of omission is a missed opportunity to get the morning cobwebs or afternoon preoccupations out of your own head or to do the same for someone else equally absorbed in a fog of his or her own making. Sometimes the greeting doesn't quite penetrate the fog but at least you tried. At other times, with certain people, you might prefer a fog of your own as a shield against a predictable barrage of questions, complaints or psychotic theories offered up on the run for your edification or endorsement. Just the other day a patient told me that a sure-fire way to get rid of delusions is to hold something white slightly above and in front of your eyes and to squint at it. "Just try it," he urged, "and you'll see what I mean." He then added that the procedure works best if you are also taking Thorazine. You can't argue with success and so I tell him I am glad he is feeling better.

Another fellow routinely calls me over for a word after saying hello. When I have the time to listen, he shares the secrets of curing cancer, ending world hunger, reversing global warming and saving the environment from pollution. His solution to these and other problems are equally creative, unreasonable and impractical. When I ask why he is entrusting these ideas to me, he explains that I must surely have connections to the world leaders who can turn his schemes into realities. He, on the other hand, would never be taken seriously because he is a mental patient. If I have any doubt that his gifts are tokens of the esteem in which he holds me, they are put to rest the next time we meet. Then, after saying hello, he tells me that he really likes me and can't wait to read the nice things that will be said about me in my obituary. At least he has more tact than the woman who grumbles something unintelligible about Satan whenever I say hello as we pass each other.

Not all of the people we greet during the course of a day at the hospital are equally talkative or particularly colorful in their remarks. A quick "hi" or a smile and nod of the head are the more typical greetings among both patients and staff as they are in most other settings. As is the case everywhere, a passing encounter often comes with quick observations about the weather, our local sports teams or especially in this election year, politics. The mental illnesses of some of our patients are well encapsulated and their symptoms do not interfere with their ability to pursue their interests and carry on logical conversations. If I have time for an astute analysis of the country's political situation, I know just whom to greet and what to expect. Yet the content of what we say is less important than the fact of addressing or simply acknowledging the other person.

Some of our patients with more severe and chronic illnesses have been hospitalized so long that they have learned that the best way of avoiding failure is not responding at all. We say hello anyway and keep walking. Our greeting is not an attempt to make people respond but a simple acknowledgment of their dignity as people. When people realize that we have no ulterior motive, they are often the first to say hello.

On a recent vacation trip to Maryland, we took the opportunity to visit the U.S. Naval Academy in the company of an old friend with a deep respect for and knowledge of the military. As we watched the midshipmen walking between classes and saluting the officers they passed, my friend explained that men and women of lower rank are required to salute their superiors, but the higher-ranking officers do not have to return the salute. He explained that that the salute is meant as a sign of respect for the rank or office and not as an acknowledgement of the particular officer. The sight of these talented young people burning with dedication to our nation's highest ideals and steeped in tradition and self-discipline was very inspiring. I tried to imagine them striding across the campus of the state hospital or to see our patients and staff forming up in ranks on the parade grounds of Annapolis. I tried my best but the images would not snap into focus. All I could see was people saying hello in different ways.

Why and how we say hello (June 2008 Issue)

By Alan Bodnar, Ph.D.

Why and how we say hello
(June 2008 Issue)