I can read a room. I can read the mood of a room, in particular the students within a room, within the first few moments of their arrival to class. And this morning, our collective mood needed some lifting.
But then? Compliments. The compliments began.
“I really like your new haircut, Dr. H. It’s a great style.”
Beaming. I was beaming. I fluffed it out and said, “Well, I did fix it today.”
Next, I hear one student plop down, turn to the student on her right, and say, “Oh my gosh, I love your shirt. I love that color. It’s perfect.”
She said, “Thank you. It’s new.” Beaming. She was beaming.
As I’m thinking about compliments, my purse falls to the ground and topples over under the weight of its contents, and a more reserved student brightens and says, “You’re the type of person who carries three books in her purse? That’s the best!”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say.
Later, I learn about the budding relationship of two students who shall remain anonymous. When I ask how it all began, she says, “Well, he complimented my outfit.”
Compliments. What if you offered at least three genuine compliments today?
Compliments bring positivity into the environment, bolster confidence, and help forge loving bonds. And compliments aren’t just for others; when you give a compliment, it keeps you positive and joyful.
Compliment-givers read the environment a certain way. They look for what’s beautiful, good, hopeful, and true. They name what they see in order to show kindness and love in an otherwise critical and despondent environment.