You're My Person: Noticing Others, Changing Ourselves

Excerpt from 'You're my person: How Grey's Anatomy created a stand in for 'soul-mate' (The Washington Post, link here)

The interesting thing about this term (a sort of secular version of “soul mate”) is that it began as a signifier of platonic love, not romance. Then the love birds swooped in and adopted it.

The term was coined over a decade ago on “Grey’s Anatomy” — to describe the deep bond between best friends Cristina Yang (Sandra Oh) and Meredith Grey (Ellen Pompeo). The first time it’s uttered, they’re seated at Joe’s Bar when Cristina matter-of-factly tells Meredith that she put her name down as an emergency contact for an abortion she has scheduled. “The clinic has a policy. They wouldn’t let me confirm my appointment unless I designated an emergency contact person, someone to be there just in case and to help me home, you know, after. Anyway, I put your name down. That’s why I told you I’m pregnant. You’re my person,” Cristina says.

“I am?” Meredith responds. She doesn’t ask, “What is that?” She just gets it. Which is hallmark behavior from one “person” to another. It’s someone who understands what you’re thinking or feeling, no explanation required.

Cristina ends up having a miscarriage and does not go to that appointment. But she and Meredith continue showing up for one another in the moments that matter most. Cristina sits watch when Meredith is close to death. Meredith helps Cristina out of her wedding dress when she realizes she can’t go through with her wedding to fellow surgeon Preston Burke. Of Meredith, Cristina says: “If I murdered someone, she’s the person I’d call to help drag the corpse across the living room floor.” And Meredith tells Cristina: “You’re my sister. You’re my family. You’re all I’ve got.”

That’s the beauty of the term — it’s not defined by blood or by law. Your person can be constant, or it can change. The term emerged right as it was becoming clear that millennials would be delaying marriage while investing in their friendships and their careers. Until there is a life partner in the picture, or even if there never is one, we need a word for the people who show up for us like Cristina and Meredith do for one another.

[...]

Esther Lee, a senior news editor at the wedding website the Knot, refers to her best friend as her “person,” but acknowledges that a would-be husband might usurp that title someday. “What I love about the term is that it’s applicable to anyone from a best friend to a parent to a significant other,” Lee said in an interview. Whoever your person is, she added, they’re your champion — advocating for you and cheering you on — while also delivering tough love when needed.

Transcript from a video by Brene Brown on Empathy (video link here)

So what is empathy, and why is it very different than sympathy? Empathy fuels connection. Sympathy drives disconnection. Empathy, it’s very interesting. Teresa Wiseman is a nursing scholar who studied professions – very diverse professions – where empathy is relevant and came up with four qualities of empathy – perspective taking, the ability to take the perspective of another person or recognize their perspective as their truth, staying out of judgement – not easy when you enjoy it as much as most of us do – recognizing emotion in other people, and then communicating that.

Empathy is feeling with people.

And to me, I always think of empathy as this kind of sacred space when someone is kind of in a deep hole, and they shout out from the bottom and they say, I’m stuck. It’s dark. I’m overwhelmed. And then we look and we say, hey, I’m down. I know what it’s like down here, and you’re not alone.

Sympathy is (there’s an image onscreen of a person peering into a hole from above and clucking their tongue saying), oh, it’s bad, uh-huh. No. Do you want a sandwich?

[Laughter from audience.]

Empathy is a choice, and it’s a vulnerable choice. Because in order to connect with you, I have to connect with something in myself that knows that feeling. Rarely, if ever, does an empathic response begin with ‘at least’.

And we do it all the time. Because you know what? Someone just shared something with us that’s incredibly painful, and we’re trying to silver lining it. I don’t think that’s a verb, but I’m using it as one. We’re trying to put the silver lining around it.

So [let’s say someone shares] I had a miscarriage.

[The silver lining person responds] Oh, at least you know you can get pregnant.

[Someone shares] I think my marriage is falling apart.

[The silver lining person responds] At least you have a marriage.

[Laughter because the audience realizes how terrible of a response that is.]

[Someone shares] John’s getting kicked out of school.

[The silver lining person responds] At least Sarah is an A student.

But one of the things we do sometimes in the face of very difficult conversations is we try to make things better. If I share something with you that’s very difficult, I’d rather you say I don’t even know what to say right now. I’m just so glad you told me. Because the truth is rarely can a response make something better. What makes something better is connection.

BAT PHAROAH

Excerpt from 'The Double Birth of Moshe' by Rav Elchanan Samet (link to full essay here)

The crux of the "exchange of mothers" is perceived correctly by R. Tee as being expressed in the naming of the child. The right to choose the child's name is often reserved for the mother in biblical stories describing a birth, while in our case this right is reserved for Pharaoh's daughter. Moshe must certainly have had a name by which he was known to his biological parents during those two or three years that he spent in their home until he was weaned and handed back to Pharaoh's daughter. But the text does not reveal it to us; instead, it records only the name given to him by Pharaoh's daughter, thereby confirming and approving the legality of her status of motherhood.

[...]

Is "Moshe" the original name that Pharaoh's daughter gives the child? This possibility encounters two problems: firstly, she did not speak Hebrew; why would she give her adopted son a Hebrew name that would be out of place in his royal Egyptian environment? Secondly, if she gave him a Hebrew name that was meant to hint at the circumstances of the beginning of their relationship – "For I drew him out of the water" – then his name in Hebrew should be "Mashui" ("drawn"), not "Moshe." This question remains pertinent even if we were to conjecture that that "Moshe" is the Hebrew translation of the original name in Egyptian that Pharaoh's daughter gave him.

Prof. U. Cassuto addresses these questions in his commentary on Sefer Shemot:

"The matter may be explained differently. First it is written (verse 10), 'And he became a SON unto her, and she called his name MOSHE' – in other words, the ýEgyptian word for 'son' is 'Moshe.' Thereafter, following the Torah's way of explaining names – since the sound of the name in Egyptian is reminiscent of the sound of the Hebrew verb m-sh-h – it was AS IF SHE THOUGHT ('and she said' = 'and she thought'), 'for I drew him out of the water.'"

"Moshe" is therefore an Egyptian name, meaning – in ancient Egyptian – "son." Pharaoh's daughter is thus declaring that the child she is adopting is her legal son, and accordingly she is giving him his name: "And he became a son to her – and she called his name 'a son.'"

But further along, Cassuto's explanation becomes forced: how does the text attribute to Pharaoh's daughter a midrashic reason for the name in accordance with the Hebrew language and with a completely different meaning that her original intention – a meaning that could not possibly have occurred to her?

The Netziv (Ha'amek Davar, Shemot 2:10) was familiar with this explanation for the name "Moshe," based on the ancient Egyptian, and accepted it. His explanation of verse 10 solves the problem that we raised above concerning Cassuto's interpretation:

"'And he became a son unto her' – Since she saved him from death and also raised him, it was considered as though she had given birth to him, as she says: 'And she called his name Moshe.' And I have seen written in the name of R. Shemuel of Bohemia, that in the Egyptian language, this word in this form means 'son'… and this interpretation is correct.

Thus she explains the reason why the child is hers: 'for I drew him out of the water' – for it is as if he drowned in the river, and so his father and mother have no portion in him, and I am the mother of the child. This is truly called acquiring a person…

According to our words, the word 'meshitihu' (I drew him out) is not related to the name Moshe, but rather is the explanation that she called him ["son," i.e.] Moshe.

In any event, this is the way of the holy language – to present a play on words."

In other words, Pharaoh's daughter does in fact explain the name that she gives the child (Moshe, meaning in Egyptian 'my son,' or 'my child') by the fact that she saved him from drowning in the river, thereby acquiring him for herself. When the Torah comes to translate her thought or her statement – which was formulated in Egyptian – into Hebrew, it does so through a play on words. Therefore there is no discrepancy between the name "Moshe" and its reason – "for I drew him outwater," for the reason pertains not to the etymology of the name (which is actually Egyptian), but rather to its essentially legal nature.

[...]

Why was it necessary for Moshe – future savior of Israel – to be "reborn" in the unique circumstances described in our parasha? Why was it necessary for him to pass from his biological, Jewish mother to an adoptive Egyptian mother? Why did this adoptive mother have to be the daughter of Pharaoh?

[...]

Moshe's education in the Egyptian royal palace presented a danger from the opposite direction: the danger of identification with the oppressor and the social norms prevalent in Egypt, out of a sense of belonging to the royal family. This danger appears even more severe, and no less likely, than its predecessor.

It appears from the story that Pharaoh's daughter never tried to blur Moshe's origins, the fact that he was "one of the Hebrew children," and therefore she agreed to give him to "a wet-nurse from among the Hebrews." From the fact that Moshe later "went out to his brothers," we learn that he was aware of his ethnic origin. But the danger was that Moshe himself, who had grown up in the Egyptian palace, would seek to deny his origin.

Here we must pay attention to the identity of Moshe's "second mother," in whose home Moshe was educated. She was the daughter of Pharaoh who, in the crucial moral test that she faced at the river, made her decision and acted against her father's decree, showing compassion on the Hebrew baby. According to her father's decree, he should have been cast into the river to die. By saving the Hebrew baby's life, and by adopting him as her son, Pharaoh's daughter gave wordless expression to her opposition to her father's policy of enslavement and murder.

Since Pharaoh's daughter made no attempt to hide the fact that Moshe was an Israelite, we see that she did not act out of motives of personal gain. Moshe was aware that he was an Israelite, and presumably opposed the oppression of his nation. It is likely that Moshe's excursion to witness the suffering of his brothers was actually inspired and encouraged by his adoptive mother.

Although Moshe grows up in the Egyptian palace, his name and the circumstances that brought about his upbringing there – which had never been hidden from him by his adoptive mother – constantly reminded him of his origins and identity, and this sharpened the fundamental difference between himself – a refugee born of an oppressed nation – and his noble Egyptian surroundings.

Thus, paradoxically, it was specifically Moshe's upbringing in the very heart of evil – in Pharaoh's palace – that gave him the ability to negate completely the enslavement of his nation and to regard it as an injustice requiring correction.

RABBI AKIVA'S DAUGHTER

Excerpt from Newsweek article 'Bridezillas and the Rise of the Me, Me, Me Weddings' (link here)

When I got married last October, all I heard were variants of "This is your day. It's all about you." These messages made me uncomfortable, both because they promoted entering a weird bridal vortex of solipsism and because, as the wedding drew near, it became clear that this was pretty much entirely untrue. In the best possible way, our wedding wasn't about us—it was stitched together from what all three sides of our family (two being mine, since my parents are divorced) wanted and valued. It was about honoring thousands of years of Jewish tradition and providing some nachas, the Yiddish term for parental joy, to our parents, grandparents, and other assorted relatives and guests. The most basic parental dictum we heeded was no shellfish and no meat to meet my parents' dietary restrictions, even though neither my husband nor I keep kosher or are vegetarians. If I had my druthers, might I have wanted a raw bar and beef short ribs as the entrée? Probably. But I decided to cut my losses on that one, and never regretted it.

In many pockets of 21st-century America, the idea of the wedding as something communal is anathema—a relic from a bygone era or the realm of the devoutly religious. Nuptials today are defined by your Pinterest board, of which there are a multiplying number of wedding-related ones, three-day destination extravaganzas, and $200 spoons from Michael C. Fina. So, many American weddings have evolved into a fixation with material details, trials of abject devotion by members of the wedding party, and resigned acceptance of bridal crusades for perfection that threaten to crush all in their path. Because, well, you deserve it—it's your day.

Now we have exported our unique brand of the "me, me, me" consumer-driven wedding-mania outside our borders. My counterparts in China, those born in the 1980s, are spending extravagantly on their weddings, of which there are 10 million every year. Lavish wedding celebrations in China, which can easily cost more than their grandparents made in a lifetime—the average middle-class Chinese wedding costs $12,000, the amount of disposable income a family in Beijing, Shanghai, and Shenzhen has to spend in a year—are becoming increasingly popular. No wonder the wedding industry in China is growing by 20 percent a year and was valued at $57 billion, according to Ad Age, surpassing the $40 billion U.S. market. Hu Lu, a wedding planner in China, told The Guardian in 2011, "Every bride wants to be princess Snow White when they get married."

YOUNG JEWISH WOMEN

Excerpt from Dr. Noam Stadlan's hesped (eulogy) for Batsheva

Batsheva was a beautiful girl and young lady and loved fashion. She was approached many times about being a model. She had amazing fashion sense. Fashion to some might seem to be frivolous or selfish. But for Batsheva, it wasn’t about her, but about making the world a prettier more sparkly place, and helping people feel good about how they looked. She helped her friends pick out clothes, gave away her clothes, and even tried to help those with no fashion sense, like me, look nicer. She wanted to the world to reflect her, beautiful and sparkly.

RABBI YECHEZKEL LANDAU, AUTHOR OF NODAH B'YEHUDAH

'The Miracle of Prague' adapted by Rabbi Sholom Klass zt"l (link here for full text)

THE POOR BOY

One night, Rabbi Yechezkel was returning home from the synagogue following the evening prayers when he saw a young non-Jewish boy, dressed in ragged clothing with tears streaming down his face, wandering about the streets. On his shoulders he carried empty baskets and was the picture of misery and despair. Rabbi Yechezkel's heart went out to the boy and he went over to him.

"Tell me, little boy, what are you doing walking about the streets of the Jewish quarter and why are you crying?"

The boy looked at the rabbi and he burst into a torrent of tears. Finally, he explained, "My mother died last year and my father, who is a baker, has remarried. My stepmother is a cruel and heartless woman who makes me get up every morning at dawn, loads me down with baskets of bread and commands me to sell every single one.

"Woe is to me if I should fail to sell every one. She beats and whips me and makes me go to bed without food. Now I am afraid to go home."

RABBI YECHEZKEL IS MOVED

Rabbi Yechezkel looked at the poor boy and asked, "Why? What happened today? You appear to have sold all your bread. Why should you be afraid to go home?"

"Today, something terrible happened to me," the boy answered. "It is true that I was able to sell all my bread, but as the sun set and I started to go home I reached into my pocket and saw that the money was gone. There were 30 gold coins and I either lost them or they were stolen from me. If I should go home with neither the bread nor the money, my stepmother will beat me within an inch of my life! All evening I have wandered about frantically and I am hunerv and cold and afraid."

And with this, the tears once again began to flow from the little boy's eyes. Rabbi Yechezkel was deeply moved and said, "Do not worry. First come to my house and have something to eat and then we will figure out some solution."

The rabbi and the little gentile boy went home and there Rabbi Yechezkel ordered that supper be given the starving waif. The boy ate and drank, and life returned to his shivering little body. Then Rabbi Yechezkel took out 30 gold coins from his pocket and gave them to the lad.

"Here are 30 gold coins. Take them home to your stepmother and do not worry. Now she will not hit you."

The boy's face lit up with a smile of joy and thanking the rabbi he ran home as quickly as his little feet would take him.

PASSOVER NIGHT

The years passed, and Rabbi Yechezkel all but forgot the incident. He grew older and the problems of the Jewish community of Prague, which he led, weighted heavily on his frail shoulders. One Passover, on the eve of the seventh day, the rest of the household was asleep but Rabbi Yechezkel sat in his study learning Torah.

The night was quiet and peaceful when Rabbi Yechezkel heard footsteps coming down the street. They stopped in front of his house and then there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," the rabbi called out.

The door slowly opened and there stood a young gentile. Rabbi Yechezkel looked at him, wondering what he was doing here at that hour of the night.

"Good evening, rabbi," the young man said. "I am sure that you do not remember me for it has been many years since I was last here."

Rabbi Yechezkel looked at him, trying to remember where he had seen him.

"I am the little boy you once helped when I had lost 30 gold coins and was hungry and frightened. I never forgot the kindness you did to a strange boy and I resolved to pay you back if I could. That time has come.

"Listen, rabbi, the Jews of Prague are in great danger, and I will try to help you."

The rabbi trembled when he heard these words. "What do you mean?" he asked.

THE DANGER

"Listen carefully," said the young man. "Last night the bakers of the Prague guild gathered in my father's home and, at the instigation of my wicked stepmother, they made plans to kill the Jews of Prague.

"They know that on the night when Passover ends the Jews all buy leavened bread from non-Jewish bakers since all Jewish bakeries are still closed. The have decided to put poison into the bread that the Jews will buy and in this way kill all the Jews in one night.

"I have told you this to repay you for the kindness you showed to me. You must think up some way to save your people, but I beg of you to let no one know that it was I who told you."

A terrible chill penetrated the gaon and he thanked the young man from the bottom of his heart. After he left, Rabbi Yechezkel sat deep in thought, trying to find a plan that would both save the Jews and bring the culprits to justice. The great trouble was that there was so little time!

Rabbi Yechezkel sat and thought and suddenly a plan formed in his mind.

On the eighth and last day of Passover an order was given to close all the synagogues in Prague and it was announced that Rabbi Yechezkel, the chief rabbi, would speak in the main synagogue right after the morning service, concerning a very important topic. All the Jews gathered at the synagogue to hear the important speech.

Rabbi Yechezkel then rose and said, "My friends, unfortunately, as the generations pass, the Torah becomes more and more forgotten. The rabbis and leaders become less and less worthy and learned and mistakes are more frequent. I must confess to you that the beis din of Prague has made an error in the reckoning of this year's calendar and we have almost brought the congregation to the sin of eating chometz (leavened bread) on Passover. Through an error we proclaimed Passover one day earlier. Today is not the eighth day, but the seventh day. It is, therefore, absolutely forbidden to eat chometz tomorrow night"

The people were astounded at this bombshell, but no one dreamed of arguing with the rabbi. All the Jews of Prague went home and that year observed the Passover, unwittingly, for nine days!

The morning of the ninth day police surrounded the homes of the bakers and discovered the poisoned bread. All were taken away to stand trial for their conspiracy. Then the Jews of Prague realized the wisdom of their chief rabbi and what he had done. A great joy spread throughout the city, and parties and celebrations were held.

Only one thing puzzled the Jews. How did Rabbi Yechezkel find out about the plot? The gaon told no one, however, as he had promised the young man.

He kept the secret his whole life and only before his death did he tell it to his son, Rabbi Shmuel Landau (author of Shivas Tzion). When he finished telling him, he said, "I want you to know that it was not through my wisdom that I was able to save the Jews, but because of a kindness that I once did for a little gentile child."

RABBI YISROEL SALANTER, FATHER OF THE MUSSAR MOVEMENT

Excerpted from Dr. Stadlan's article 'Erasing Women Erases Halacha' (link here)

Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, founder of the Mussar movement, was quoted as saying, “It is prohibited to enhance your mitzvot at the expense of others.” He practiced what he preached. One day Rabbi Salanter was hosted by a rich man. When he performed the ritual hand-washing before the meal, he used a sparing amount of water. He was asked, “Doesn’t the Torah say it is praiseworthy to wash with a lot of water?” He answered, “I can only do that in my own home. Here, however, I must consider the needs of the [maid]servant who must carry the buckets of water.”

REB AVIGDOR HALBERSTAM

Why the Rabbi Ate the Whole Pot of Cholent Himself (as appears on Chabad.org, link here)

Reb Avigdor Halberstam, the brother of Reb Chaim of Zanz, was once the honored Shabbos guest of one of the prominent citizens of some township. The custom in those parts was that the householder would pass the whole pot of cholent to his distinguished guest, who would be asked—by way of compliment, as if he were the host—to apportion the steaming stew into the plates of the members of the family.

As the cholent was passed to him, Reb Avigdor caught a whiff of it, tasted it, then tasted it again, and again—until bit by bit he finished it all, leaving nothing for the others at the table. Then he asked: “Is there perhaps a little more cholent?”

And this, too, he finished, down to the last spoonful

The host and his family were dumbfounded—but it was known that tzaddikim see a spiritual mission in eating, revealing the sparks of sanctity that are hidden in the things of This World. And who would be so bold as to pretend to guess at the hidden things that tzaddikim relish…?

But some of his disciples were present, and in all the time they had known him they had never observed him serving his Maker in this manner. So they gathered up courage and after some time asked him to enlighten them as to the hidden things that he had relished in that cholent.

“I am sure I can trust you with the explanation,” he said. “By mistake, the maid in that household flavored the cholent with kerosene instead of vinegar. I could smell it and taste it. I gathered that if our host and hostess would find out, the defenseless girl would never hear the end of it, and possibly lose her job as well—and she’s a penniless orphan, poor thing. So I ate up the cholent, and let them think of me whatever they please. Why should an orphaned waif have to suffer abuse?”

Reproduced from A Treasury of Chassidic Tales by Rabbi S. Y. Zevin, with permission of the copyright holders, ArtScroll /Mesorah Publications, Ltd.

Questions to Consider

1. What did Reb Halberstam NOTICE?

2. Based on what he noticed, how did he decide to act? What was the motivation for his act, and how does that tie into EMPATHY?

3. What do you think the IMPACT of his explanation was on his students (and indeed, on us, hearing this story today)?

THE BAIS HA'LEVI (RAV OF BRISK)

Excerpt from 'How a Rabbi Decides a Medical Halacha Issue' by Rabbi Yitzchok A. Breitowitz, (link here)

A woman once asked the Bais Ha'Levi (the Rav of Brisk; great-grandfather and namesake of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik of Boston) whether one could fulfill the obligation of the Four Cups at the Seder with milk? The Bais HaLevi answered in the negative and immediately gave the woman funds to buy meals for all of Passover. His disciples asked him why didn't he just give her enough money for wine. His answer - the last two cups of the seder are drunk after the meal. If the woman plans to use milk for the last two cups, it could only be because she has neither meat nor chicken to serve at the Seder meal. If there is no meat or chicken for the Seder - usually the most festive Pesach event - there is obviously none for the rest of the holiday. She accordingly needs funds for the entire holiday. The duty of the rabbi is to address the entire problem or more accurately, the whole person - not merely the segment of the problem that is explicitly raised.

NOT NOTICING- WHEN PEOPLE CHOOSE NOT TO SEE/ DON'T PRACTICE EMPATHY

ABSALOM

IT IS FORBIDDEN NOT TO SEE

TAKEAWAYS/ WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR US TODAY?

We've discussed the importance of NOTICING and the importance of EMPATHIZING with others as a catalyst for us to act upon what we've noticed- for the good. We've looked at incredible examples of people who noticed others, cared for them, and acted like THEIR PERSON (to use the language of Grey's Anatomy). We've seen ways that this changed them or important outcomes in their lives! We've also seen the flip side- what can happen due to not adequately caring for or noticing others (and how choosing not to notice is forbidden). But after learning all of this, how do I apply this in my everyday life? What does it look like for me?

Below are a few examples, and I am sure that you will come up with more!

1. CHECKING IN

One of the ways that people feel noticed, cared for, SEEN and valued is when others check in on them. NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) provides some suggestions about doing so if someone is struggling with mental health, but the idea of making it a priority to check in on others applies even if someone appears to be functioning well.

From NAMI-

You can play an important role in helping a friend build a positive, social support network. Here are ways to do that:

• Check-in regularly. Call or text your friend once or twice a week. Check in with them after their therapy appointments to see how things went. Let them know that you are there.
• Include your friend in your plans. Even if your friend doesn’t always come, they will probably appreciate being included.
• Learn more about mental health conditions. Find out more about what your friend is going through so you are better able to help in future situations.
• Avoid using judgmental or dismissive language, such as “you’ll get over it,” “toughen up,” “snap out of it.” Your friend needs to hear that they are not alone and that they can get through this. Reassure them that everything will be okay and that you are there for them.

2. NOTICING THE MARGINALIZED

How many times have you walked by an individual who is homeless? There are many reasons you might not engage with a person in this position. But if you can and are willing to make eye contact, share a smile, or if you have the time even strike up a conversation- you can be a bright spot in their day.

From the New York Coalition for the Homeless-

"It is not easy seeing someone trying to survive on the streets of the city, and our reactions can range from pity, to anger, to choosing not to see the person at all. As hard as it is to witness the suffering of others, we encourage all New Yorkers to exercise empathy – to imagine what it’s like to have no home and no support network, to be cold or hungry or sick, to have hundreds of people walk by you each day and pretend you don’t exist.

The question of how to help a homeless person on the streets is not always an easy one, and while some general answers are outlined below, the best place to start is by remembering the humanity of each man or woman you see in a public place. Treat each and every person with dignity – but also follow your own instincts. And remember that small acts of kindness can have tremendously positive repercussions in the lives of others."

3. LEARNING PEOPLE'S STORIES

Actively learning about other people's stories is an exercise is noticing others that helps build understanding and empathy. Two masters of this are Brandon Stanton of Humans of New York and Peter Santenello (link to his website here).

Quote from an interview with Brandon-

"Why do the sad stories kind of stand out to me? I think it's because so much of the storytelling on social media is self-directed, and it serves to highlight all the good stuff that's going on in our lives: Look at my marriage, look at my car, look at my house, look at my kids, look at my job. And it's all so self-promotional and happy.

You know, I think what Humans of New York does is highlights maybe the other tones of our lives that people aren't so willing to express, or tragedy that they might not have told anybody else. Then, there's somebody in my audience that's reading that and says, "You know what, I'm going through that exact same thing, and I was afraid to talk about it also."

Those are the stories I feel proudest about."