Growing up in the vibrant and diverse Bronx of New York City shaped my early years. Although I left the city for West Point in 1980 and have been away long enough to feel like an outsider upon returning, my roots and family ties there remain strong. When COVID-19 struck, and New York became a global epicenter, my thoughts immediately turned to my loved ones back home. Interestingly, my experiences were somewhat pre-shaped by my personal life – being married into a Chinese Family. My wife and son are Chinese, and through my wife, I’ve gained an expansive and close-knit extended family. I am particularly close with my brother-in-law, Hongwen, a provost at a police college in a bustling city of 35 million people.
When COVID-19 first emerged in China, it became a unique experience to connect with my chinese family through video calls. It mirrored in some ways the outreach and support our leadership was providing within our own wing – listening to those affected and offering reassurance. The difference, of course, was navigating conversations across languages, with my wife expertly interpreting between Chinese and English.
These almost-daily check-ins with my chinese family during the initial outbreak in China offered profound lessons. They underscored the fundamental purpose of such communication: to truly listen. And genuine listening, I learned, begins with self-care.
Before each call, I consciously prepared myself. Drawing from my Army Ranger training – “don’t forget nothing” – preparation became key. My first step was a personal anxiety assessment, rating my level from one to ten. We all carry anxiety differently; for some it’s tight shoulders, for others, chest constriction or neck tension. For me, it manifests in my stomach. Recognizing anxiety is crucial because unaddressed, it can control our reactions and interactions.
For these calls to China, my self-care began with breathwork. The connection between our lungs and brain is powerful, especially the exhale, which signals our brains to release calming neurochemicals. Then, I employ a quirky personal technique: I make a “key” with my left thumb and forefinger, symbolically “locking my mouth.” This reminds me to prioritize listening over speaking. Only then, grounded and ready, would I make the call.
During these conversations, my chinese family shared concerns that naturally triggered my “fixer” instincts. Stories emerged like Grandma’s hip pain, exacerbated by hospitals overwhelmed with virus cases – a situation mirroring challenges we were seeing globally. In these moments, I mentally tightened my “mouth key.” I focused on active listening, repeating back what I heard to ensure understanding and offering heartfelt empathy. I inquired about their support networks, reminding them I was part of that network. We discussed available resources, and each call concluded with a simple, “I love you.” Then, I intentionally ended the call.
The following day, another check-in. Hongwen expressed deep appreciation, emphasizing how much our “talk” the previous night meant to him. His tone was noticeably lighter, more optimistic. He shared how he had connected with other family members and together they were formulating a plan to support Grandma. He reiterated his gratitude for simply “talking.” As a typical veteran, compliments are not my forte, but I acknowledged his thanks.
The core lesson from this experience, especially relevant during any crisis, is the immense power of listening – truly listening. Words are potent; they should be used thoughtfully and intentionally. Ultimately, communication is less about what we say and more about how our words make others feel. Our words and delivery create ripples, positive or negative, much like disturbances on a calm pond. I strive to be mindful of my ripples, even across language barriers, and ensure they are as positive and supportive as possible.
Ralph Waldo Emerson wisely noted, “it is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.” During times of crisis, consciously aim to create positive ripples. Extending support to Airmen, their families, and our broader community is not only beneficial for them but profoundly contributes to our own self-care. In fact, you might find that helping others is, in itself, deeply rewarding.
Since self-care is uniquely personal, if you need guidance in developing or adjusting your self-care plan, reach out to Dan or Bethany for personalized support.
保持联系并希望平安: Be Safe and Stay Connected.
Editor’s Note: This article is part of a continuing series from the 131st Bomb Wing Directors of Psychological Health. If you are in need of assistance or are struggling, please contact Dan Shea at 314-939-0246 or Bethany Harris at 660-687-7407. We are all navigating this together.
