In March 2023, after months of preparation and paperwork, Anita Omary arrived in the United States from her native Afghanistan to build a better life. Once she arrived in Connecticut, however, the experience was anything but easy.
“When I first arrived, everything felt so strange—the weather, the environment, the people,” Omary recalled. Omary had not only left behind her extended family and friends in Afghanistan, she left her career managing child protective cases and supporting refugee communities behind as well. Even more challenging, Anita was five months pregnant at the time, and because her husband was unable to obtain a travel visa, she found herself having to navigate a new language, a different culture, and an unfamiliar country entirely on her own.
“I went through a period of deep disappointment and depression, where I wasn’t able to do much for myself,” Omary said.
Then something incredible happened: Omary met a woman who would become her close friend, offering support that would change her experience as a refugee—and ultimately the trajectory of her entire life.
Understanding the journey
Like Anita Omary, tens of thousands of people come to the United States each year seeking safety from war, political violence, religious persecution, and other threats. Yet escaping danger, unfortunately, is only the first challenge. Once here, immigrant and refugee families must deal with the loss of displacement, while at the same time facing language barriers, adapting to a new culture, and sometimes even facing social stigma and anti-immigrant biases.
Welcoming immigrant and refugee neighbors strengthens the nation and benefits everyone—and according to Anita Omary, small, simple acts of human kindness can make the greatest difference in helping them feel safe, valued, and truly at home.
A warm welcome
Dee and Omary's son, Osman
Anita Omary was receiving prenatal checkups at a woman’s health center in West Haven when she met Dee, a nurse.
“She immediately recognized that I was new, and that I was struggling,” Omary said. “From that moment on, she became my support system.”
Dee started checking in on Omary throughout her pregnancy, both inside the clinic and out.
“She would call me and ask am I okay, am I eating, am I healthy,” Omary said. “She helped me with things I didn’t even realize I needed, like getting an air conditioner for my small, hot room.”
Soon, Dee was helping Omary apply for jobs and taking her on driving lessons every weekend. With her help, Omary landed a job, passed her road test on the first attempt, and even enrolled at the University of New Haven to pursue her master’s degree. Dee and Omary became like family. After Omary’s son, Osman, was born, Dee spent five days in the hospital at her side, bringing her halal food and brushing her hair in the same way Omary’s mother used to. When Omary’s postpartum pain became too great for her to lift Osman’s car seat, Dee accompanied her to his doctor’s appointments and carried the baby for her.
“Her support truly changed my life,” Omary said. “Her motivation, compassion, and support gave me hope. It gave me a sense of stability and confidence. I didn’t feel alone, because of her.”
More than that, the experience gave Omary a new resolve to help other people.
“That experience has deeply shaped the way I give back,” she said. “I want to be that source of encouragement and support for others that my friend was for me.”
Extending the welcome
Omary and Dee at the Martin Luther King, Jr. Vision Awards ceremony at the University of New Haven.
Omary is now flourishing. She currently works as a career development specialist as she continues her Master’s degree. She also, as a member of the Refugee Storytellers Collective, helps advocate for refugee and immigrant families by connecting them with resources—and teaches local communities how to best welcome newcomers.
“Welcoming new families today has many challenges,” Omary said. “One major barrier is access to English classes. Many newcomers, especially those who have just arrived, often put their names on long wait lists and for months there are no available spots.” For women with children, the lack of available childcare makes attending English classes, or working outside the home, especially difficult.
Omary stresses that sometimes small, everyday acts of kindness can make the biggest difference to immigrant and refugee families.
“Welcome is not about big gestures, but about small, consistent acts of care that remind you that you belong,” Omary said. Receiving a compliment on her dress or her son from a stranger in the grocery store was incredibly uplifting during her early days as a newcomer, and Omary remembers how even the smallest gestures of kindness gave her hope that she could thrive and build a new life here.
“I built my new life, but I didn’t do it alone,” Omary said. “Community and kindness were my greatest strengths.”
Are you in? Click here to join the Refugee Advocacy Lab and sign the #WeWillWelcome pledge and complete one small act of welcome in your community. Together, with small, meaningful steps, we can build communities where everyone feels safe.
This article is part of Upworthy’s “The Threads Between U.S.” series that highlights what we have in common thanks to the generous support from the Levi Strauss Foundation, whose grantmaking is committed to creating a culture of belonging.
Sometimes, it feels like everyone we cross paths with is in their own little world—always in a hurry, always glued to a device. It can feel almost impossible to strike up a conversation with a stranger, even if you have no ulterior motive (like flirting).
Conversational anxiety, or, more broadly, social anxiety, affects about 12-14% of adults and is far more common among young people. These disorders often involve negative thought patterns like “I’m bad at meeting people” or “People dislike chatting with me.” Those thoughts undoubtedly make it harder.
But even people without social anxiety may want to talk to strangers. They simply do not have a good strategy for doing so.
Dating coach Adele Bloch recently took to social media to share a tried-and-true blueprint for striking up harmless, low-stakes conversations with strangers. The key is choosing the where and the how.
Bloch helps her clients find love and relationships, but she also takes on the challenge of helping people connect platonically in a disconnected world. In a recent post on X, she lays out her roadmap for “the art of talking to strangers in public.”
For starters, Bloch explains, the where is critical. People usually aren’t in a chatting mood when they’re engaged in a task or on their way somewhere. That’s why talking to people at the gym can be tricky; you risk coming off as rude by interrupting someone in the middle of something.
“Do it in places where people generally linger,” she suggests. Places like standing in line at a coffee shop or after a group workout class, when people take a few minutes to gather their things before leaving.
The next piece is the tough one: what to say.
“My favorite intro lines are almost as though you’re letting them into your inner monologue,” she writes. Nothing too clever or scripted, less a conversation starter and more like thinking out loud in their general direction. She suggests asking them to help you make a decision on the menu, or even just making a casual observation. A non-physical compliment can work, too.
From there, you’re off and running, she says. In the full post, however, Bloch offers a few more tips on what to do next.
the art of talking to strangers in public:
– do it in places where people generally linger. this can be in line, at coffee shops, after a yoga class, etc. there needs to be an element of slowness so you can easily strike up a convo – wouldn't recommend starting with 'hi' – that… https://t.co/uxywglz46W
The post received over half a million views on X and thousands of likes and comments. Bloch had clearly struck a nerve around a common problem many people share.
Commenters had a lot of thoughts about what impromptu conversations with strangers have meant to them:
“The stakes are so low but the potential for spontaneous great conversation is so high! can’t think of many situations where i regretted taking the initiative”
“I started doing this, significantly helped me get out of my social isolation. Moved to a city and knew nobody Now I have events and hangouts to go to!!”
“Small spontaneous conversations are underrated because they slowly rebuild a sense of community we didn’t even realize we were missing”
Research is clear on the benefits of pleasant human interactions. Yes, even for introverts.
“A growing body of research has found that talking with strangers can contribute to our well-being,” writes Gillian Sandstrom, a senior lecturer in the psychology of kindness at the University of Sussex.
Sandstrom references a study carried out on commuters in Chicago who were asked to talk to someone on their regular train ride. Overwhelmingly, participants who chatted with a stranger were in a better mood afterward. These small micro-connections make us happier and help us feel less alone. We also learn new things about the world by talking to unexpected people.
However, many people are naturally resistant to talking to folks they don’t know. Those same Chicago commuters, before the experiment, predicted they’d feel uncomfortable striking up conversations and would prefer to sit in silence.
Sandstrom writes that these barriers are driven by fear:
“There are endless things to worry about: What if I don’t like my conversation partner? More importantly, what if they don’t like me, or what if I’m bothering them? What if we run out of things to say? What if I want to end the conversation, but can’t figure out how to?”
Maybe not all, but most of these fears end up being unfounded. That’s the true beauty of Bloch’s viral post.
“You’ll start to realize that people are EXCITED to talk to you! Strangers aren’t as scary as they seem!” she writes. “And you’ll start living a life thats more open and fun!”
You’re having a great week. No mishaps, no drama, no unexpected bills. “I’m on top of the world!” you shout out loud. Then, suddenly, your hand shoots out to the nearest wooden surface. Your knuckles rap on it a few times, and you didn’t even think about it. What was that?
Sixty percent of Americans “knock on wood,” according to a 2015 60 Minutes/Vanity Fair poll. Most do it almost automatically. But where does the habit come from?
It’s compulsory. Many don’t think before they knock on wood. Photo credit: Canva
It seems like everyone has a different answer. Ask a group of people, and you’ll get a mix of shrugs, half-remembered myths, and a few confident answers based on a big pile of nothing.
The honest truth: nobody knows for sure. What we do have, however, are a few compelling theories, a paper trail leading back to the 19th century, and fascinating science that explains why we keep doing it—even when we don’t believe in it.
“Knock on wood” or “Touch wood?” Depends on where you live
In the United States, we knock. In the United Kingdom, they touch. Both phrases describe rapping knuckles on wood after saying something hopeful—and they mean the same thing: don’t tempt fate.
Ever heard someone in Britain say “Touch wood!” after hoping for good luck? It’s the UK equivalent of “knock on wood” in other countries. People say it (and sometimes literally touch a wooden object) to avoid jinxing something they want to happen. For example: “The weather’s been perfect all week, touch wood it stays like this for the weekend.” “I’ve never had a speeding ticket, touch wood.” It’s one of those little British superstitions you’ll hear everywhere, from pubs to workplaces. #Johnsenglishpage#learnenglish#learnenglishwithus#englishtutor#englishlessons#englishtips#naturalenglish#englishlanguage#englishlearning#studiareinglese
What do all these diverse customs have in common, and what do they reveal about human nature?
The ancient tree spirit theory (and why scholars don’t like it)
The most romantic explanation traces the phrase “knock on wood” back to pre-Christian pagan traditions. This theory suggests that ancient Celtic and Indo-European cultures believed trees were inhabited by spirits or minor gods, especially oak, ash, and hazel. Knocking on a tree trunk could awaken those spirits to ask for protection, show gratitude for good luck, or drive away malevolent forces lurking in the woods.
It’s a beautiful story. Sacred groves existed across ancient Europe, serving as meeting places between people and the divine. The Druids worshipped the oak. The Scandinavians based their entire cosmology on the ash tree, Yggdrasil. The Germanic Norns—three fate-weaving goddesses—directed destiny through the World Tree itself.
But there’s a problem. As folklorists Jacqueline Simpson and Steve Roud note in A Dictionary of English Folklore, there’s no direct evidence linking these ancient traditions to the modern “knock on wood” superstition. More than a thousand years passed between Europe’s Christianization and the first recorded mention of touching wood. This long interval suggests the practice wasn’t passed down continuously.
🌿 D R Y A D S 🌿 We have all knocked on wood to ward off bad luck, or to prevent something we said from becoming true. But where does this superstition come from? Well the most widely accepted explanation dates back to ancient pagan cultures such as the Celts, who believed that tree spirits known as Dryads resided in trees. A Dryad is a tree spirit, an elf-like tree entity whose life force was connected to the tree. The Celtic people revered trees, and saw them as powerful living beings who played a large role in Celtic culture. Each tree has its own magic, wisdom and sacred meaning. ✨ It was thought that knocking on wood was a way to rouse the tree spirit and ask it for protection, to ward off bad luck, or to show gratitude for good luck. Druids, witches and wise women carried small carved pieces of certain trees around with them which are said to host a resident Dryad, creating a moveable protection token. These would have been in the shapes of wands or staffs. Ordinary folk also would have also carried these, however they might not have been carved for the same ritualistic purpose, but for straightforward protection. 🌿 To create your own talisman you must first go to a sacred space such as an old grove, leyline, sacred spring or site, and find a tree just as the setting or rising sun strikes light upon its trunk. 🌿 From there connect with the tree, ask it for its protection and inform the Dryad of your intentions, as arrogantly cutting off a branch without first asking will anger the spirit. 🌿 From there you can transform your piece of Livewood into a wand, staff, or Ogham stave. You can add pieces on to it such as precious gems, stones, feathers, leather etc. If you have followed the ritual correctly you will end up with a powerful protection token which can be used in meditations, divinations and rituals. . . . . #Dryads#treespirits#treewisdom#treelore#celticfolklore#celtictraditions#celticotherworld#celticgods#celticgoddesses#celticmythology#paganism#paganculture#paganworship#natureworship#pagantraditions#naturegods#naturegoddess#sacredspace#sacredearth#sacredplace
The earliest known written reference to “touch wood” as a superstitious practice appears in Ballads in the Cumberland Dialect, published in 1805 by R. Anderson. Folklorists connect it to a game called “Tiggy Touchwood,” a form of tag in which players were safe from being caught as long as they touched something wooden, such as a door, a fence, or a tree. Touching wood meant you were protected.
“Given that the game was concerned with ‘protection,’ and was well known to adults and children, it is almost certainly the origin of our superstitious practice of saying, ‘touch wood.’ The claim that it goes back to tree spirits is complete nonsense.”
Religious and historical theories
Although the game theory has the strongest evidence, it’s worth knowing the other stories in circulation.
Could the reason why we “knock on wood” come from religious backgrounds? Photo credit: Canva
The Christian Cross Theory suggests that knocking on wood invokes the protective power of Christ’s crucifixion. While religious relics like the True Cross were cherished for their supposed protective powers, this theory mainly explains how the custom may have been reinterpreted through a Christian lens rather than its original genesis. Scholars point to the lack of medieval records linking this idea to superstition, suggesting it is likely a later adaptation tied to seeking divine protection.
The Jewish Persecution Theory, another proposed origin, links wood-knocking to coded signals allegedly used by Jewish communities to signal safe passage during the Spanish Inquisition. While this theory points to another possible protective motivation for the ritual, it’s difficult to verify and appears less frequently in academic literature. Its inclusion illustrates the wide range of narratives people have constructed to make sense of the custom.
The Miners and Sailors Theory points to a more practical foundation: knocking on wooden beams to test their stability, which by extension may have led to a superstition about safety. Similarly, sailors knocked on deck wood for good fortune at sea. Together, these theories suggest how everyday safety rituals could evolve into superstition—even when direct documentation is limited.
Why our brains keep doing it anyway
This is where the science gets truly fascinating. Even people who recognize the habit as irrational still engage in it. And there’s a solid reason why—one that has nothing to do with tree spirits or sacred crosses.
Jane Risen, a behavioral science professor at the University of Chicago, has spent years exploring this very contradiction. In a 2016 article in Psychological Review, she found that individuals can recognize a belief as irrational in real time yet still choose not to challenge it—a phenomenon she terms “acquiescence.” As she explained:
“We see people maintaining these beliefs that they themselves acknowledge are irrational. They’ll say, ‘I know it’s crazy, but I’m going to do this.’ We have [these beliefs] because they’re the output of pretty basic cognitive processes.”
Two systems drive human thinking. The fast, intuitive one makes judgments before the slower, more deliberate system can catch up. As Risen explained, “Detecting an error in your intuitive belief doesn’t necessarily lead you to correcting it. It seems that some intuitions are just very difficult to shake.”
But that’s not all. Researchers at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business published a 2013 study in the Journal of Experimental Psychology finding that the physical motion of knocking on wood is just as important as the saying itself.
There are psychological aspects to why we knock on wood. Photo credit: Canva
Here’s what the study found: participants who knocked downward—pushing force away from themselves—felt a bad outcome was less likely than those who knocked upward or simply held an object. The study suggests this outward physical motion creates a feeling of pushing bad luck away. Rituals like spitting or throwing salt may work the same way.
There’s an emotional payoff, too. “These beliefs and behaviors actually do end up regulating your emotions,” Risen told Discover magazine. “When you knock on wood, you may worry about this less.”
Jacqueline Woolley, a psychologist at the University of Texas at Austin, found that superstitious beliefs are most prevalent around ages five and six, before skepticism begins to develop. Meanwhile, Nadia Brashier, a researcher at Harvard University, observed that adults around age 70 tend to be less superstitious than those around age 19, as accumulated life experience typically reshapes the brain’s understanding of cause and effect.
The meaning behind the knock
Here’s what the research and folklore actually agree on: the phrase “knock on wood” is almost certainly not thousands of years old. Its documented history dates back to the 19th century, likely rooted in a children’s game of tag. The pagan, Christian, and persecution theories make for interesting stories, but none have the same weight of supporting evidence.
What holds up the tradition is psychology. Whether the gesture started with a game of Tiggy Touchwood, a fragment of the True Cross, or a coded knock on a synagogue door, it endures today because of how the human brain functions. We’re wired to seek some control over what we cannot control. A small physical act—touching something solid, directing force away from the body—provides that sense of comfort, even if only for a moment.
The next time your hand reaches for the nearest table after saying something hopeful, you don’t need to feel embarrassed. You’re doing something humans have practiced across cultures for at least two centuries, probably longer. Call it a habit, call it superstition, call it a small act of hope. Whatever you call it, the impulse remains the same: to hold on, just for a moment, to the good things in front of you.
What happened in the next few minutes is almost impossible to read without holding your breath.
Emma sprinted downstairs barefoot and found her boys trapped in the playroom, surrounded by flames. She threw herself over them, took the fire on her own back, and shoved them out the front door. Then she locked it behind her from the inside, so they couldn’t follow her back in, per Goalcast.
The staircase was already burning. With every step she climbed, the heat was eating through her feet. “For each step I thought that ‘this is not possible,’” she later recalled, “but then I thought that it must go for four of my children who are still up there. It was so hot that the soles of the feet start to drop from the feet. They just hang like threads.”
Upstairs, her 9-year-old daughter Nellie had already jumped from the balcony to get help. Her 11-year-old son William had found a ladder and was helping his siblings down. Emma fought through the smoke to reach the last room, where she found her baby daughter Mollie standing in her crib, terrified and crying. Emma had assumed Mollie might not still be alive. “I was so terribly tired but could see through the smoke how Mollie stood there in her crib and cried and was terrified,” she said, per Bright Vibes. “Then I suddenly got such an enormous force and managed to get to my feet and lift her up.”
All six children got out without serious injury. Emma did not.
By the time she collapsed outside, burns covered 93% of her body. Doctors put her on a ventilator, where she remained for three weeks, hovering between life and death. Medical staff noted that it is uncommon for people to survive even 90% burns. She endured more than 20 surgeries and months of rehabilitation. When she finally came out of unconsciousness, her first words were not about her own pain or her skin or the surgeries ahead. She asked: “Are my children alive?”
According to EuroWeekly News, when asked later why she kept going back in, she didn’t describe it as heroism. “If I gave birth to six children,” she told reporters, “I will get all six out.”
Recovery was long and uneven in ways that went beyond the physical. After six weeks in hospital, the children came to visit. Her youngest, Mollie, didn’t recognize her. “She did not want to come to me,” Emma said. “Which I can understand with all appliances and hoses. I looked completely different.” That moment, she has said, was one of the hardest parts of the entire ordeal.
In December 2020, Sweden honored her at the Svenska Hjältar Gala, a nationally televised awards ceremony, where she was named Lifesaver of the Year. Her eldest son William addressed the audience and moved the room to tears: “Sometimes I think I will never see Mum again. But now we see Mum almost every day and that makes me happy.”
Six years on, Emma is living back in Edsbyn in a rebuilt home with her family. She has written a memoir about the fire and its aftermath, titled “I Carry My Scars with Pride” (published in Swedish in 2022 with journalist Frida Funemyr), and has taken up marathon running. She has spoken publicly about her recovery to help others who face severe trauma, and her message has stayed consistent throughout. “I feel an enormous gratitude for every day we get to be together as a family,” she told the Svenska Hjältar audience.
In April 2013, a three-year-old boy named Gabriel fell into a well in the yard of his family’s home in Segarcea, a small town in Dolj County, Romania. The well was about 15 meters deep and barely wide enough for a slender teenager to squeeze through. Professional rescue crews arrived quickly. They tried everything available to them: shovels, a tractor, specialized equipment, different angles of approach. None of it worked. Hours passed.
After eleven hours, according to accounts that circulated widely at the time via CVL Press in Romania, a firefighter finally said aloud what everyone had started to fear: “There’s no more hope. The well is too narrow.”
At that moment, a 14-year-old boy named Cristian Marian Becheanu stepped forward. He was a seventh-grade student from the area, thin enough to fit where the adults could not. He told the crew he wasn’t afraid. He said he would go in.
They strapped a headlamp to his forehead, tied a rope to his ankles, and lowered him into the dark shaft headfirst.
Cristian went down with his arms stretched out in front of him so he could reach Gabriel once he found him. Somewhere in the dark, 15 meters below the surface, he did. When he emerged from the well with the three-year-old alive in his arms, the crowd that had gathered over those eleven hours erupted. Gabriel was taken immediately to hospital, where doctors monitored him for cervical spine injury and signs of oxygen deprivation. He recovered.
Reflecting on what he’d done, Cristian was characteristically understated. “I did what had to be done,” he wrote on Instagram. “I am proud of that act.” He also admitted, in accounts translated from the Romanian press, that he had been afraid at first. “But then I wasn’t,” he said.
We came across this video of 14 year old hero Cristian Marian Becheanu from Romania who volunteered to be lowered head first into a well to rescue a toddler who fell in after 11 hours of failed attempts to reach the child. They used the song Shoulders, and we wanted to share this story with you. Cheers to Cristian!
Romania celebrated him. Local and regional officials honored Cristian at a ceremony at the Dolj County Prefecture. He received diplomas, a bicycle, a tablet, and a monthly stipend from the Artego Humanitarian Foundation through the end of 2013. Most significantly, county officials pledged support for the thing he said he actually wanted: to become a firefighter. As Alina Ionescu, director of the County Directorate for Sport and Youth, confirmed to CVL Press at the time, the institutions were committed to helping him pursue that path. Cristian is also the only civilian ever to receive the emblem of the General Inspectorate for Emergency Situations, Romania’s highest emergency services honor, as reported by Romanian press in 2021.
He kept his promise. More than a decade after that night in Segarcea, Cristian Marian Becheanu is now Sergeant Major Cristian Marian Becheanu, a professional firefighter and rescuer with ISU Dolj, Dolj County’s official emergency inspectorate. He is married with children of his own.
The video of the rescue has resurfaced online repeatedly over the years, and its current wave of circulation is doing what it always does: stopping people mid-scroll. The details that get people every time are the ones the headlines often skip. That the well was 50 feet deep. That he went in headfirst. That a rope on his ankles was all that connected him to the surface. That two other volunteers stepped up before him, looked into that dark shaft, and decided they couldn’t do it.
Broadway Rave is every theater kid’s dream come true.
When you’re a fan of Broadway musicals, the world is your stage. Or at least, you wish it was. The urge to break out in song always bubbles under the surface, but other than annoying your friends at karaoke or singing into your spatula while you make dinner, there aren’t a lot of opportunities to indulge the impulse.
Singing by yourself in your kitchen can be fun, but sometimes you want to experience the energy of joining a full chorus. What if there was a place where it’s not only okay to sing show tunes at the top of your lungs, but where everyone else will sing along with you?
Singing in your kitchen is fine, but not the same as a full chorus. Photo credit: Canva
Enter Broadway Rave, the nightclub experience for theater kids, Broadway fans, and anyone who prefers an alternative to the traditional clubbing experience. Broadway Raves take place in dance clubs, but instead of house music, you get Hamilton, Heathers, and Hairspray.
Imagine walking into a club and hearing the sound of your people:
Is it a rave in technical terms? That’s up for debate. But it certainly is a chance for people who want the energy of a communal social experience without all the stuff that goes along with clubbing. If a Broadway singalong appeals to you more than navigating a dance floor, it might be worth checking out.
Not that there isn’t dancing. It just might be more The Greatest Showman than “In Da Club.”
I mean, few Hamilton fans wouldn’t appreciate an opportunity to sing some of those iconic tunes with wild abandon, especially in a group that fully appreciates it.
Billed as a “musical theatre dance party celebrating the best of Broadway,” Broadway Rave takes place in various cities at different times. You can check their website for upcoming shows. If you don’t find one near you, you can submit a request for a rave to come to your city. They have shows around the United States as well as in Canada and the United Kingdom.
What musicals do they play songs from? That may depend on the DJ. Here’s what one person shared about their experience:
“The last time I went I stayed from 9:30 until about midnight. Went and looked up my post from that night.
They played songs from a bunch of shows, including Hamilton, Heathers, Rent, Dear Evan Hansen, Sweeney Todd, Cats, Six, Mamma Mia, Hairspray, Phantom, Les Miz, Grease, High School Musical, Hercules, Frozen, Waitress, Legally Blonde, Greatest Showman, Book of Mormon, Chess and I’m sure I’m forgetting some.
It was so much fun.”
Who would pass up a chance to join in on a group version of Wicked‘s “Defying Gravity”?
Most reviews of Broadway Rave have been positive, though some people have said the DJ really makes a difference. Shows last around 2.5 hours, and age restrictions vary by venue. Generally, they are either 18+ or 21+, which is a bummer for the high school drama club kids.
What a great idea, though, to give those of us who don’t really fit the typical nightlife mold a space to let our drama geek flag fly freely and proudly.
NBA legend Kobe Bryant was one of the greatest competitors of his generation, and his work ethic was distilled into a single phrase: Mamba Mentality.
“You wake up every single day to get better today than you were yesterday,” Bryant said in an interview posted on Twitter (X) in 2020. “Doesn’t matter what you are—basketball player, hockey player, golf player, painter, writer… doesn’t matter.”
It was about dedication to the process, not just the results, and about obsessively preparing and outworking everyone else in the building.
Bryant described one way he placed process above everything else in a 2015 interview with Jemele Hill during BET’s Genius Talks. She asked Bryant, “How did you become one of those people who doesn’t seem to be afraid of failing?” Bryant flipped the question on its head.
Bryant didn’t believe in failure
“Seriously, what does failure mean? It doesn’t exist. It’s a figment of your imagination. What does it mean? I’m serious. I’m trying to think. How can I explain it?” he responded.
He tried to explain the concept of failure through the opposite idea—perpetual success—which he also didn’t believe exists:
“So let’s use happy endings then we can relate this to failure, why it’s not existent. Everybody talks about how everybody wants a happy ending, right? Now, let’s go through the reality of it. Let’s look at a fairy tale story. It’s like Snow White. She gets a happy ending. She finds a prince or whatever, she goes along, she lives happily ever after. Well, I call bulls**t on that because two months later, the fact is they had an argument and he’s sleeping on the couch. Right? So the point is, the story continues. … So if you fail on Monday, the only way it’s a failure on Monday is if you decide to not progress from that, right?”
Bryant added, “So to me, that’s why failure’s not existent. Because, you know, if I fail today, okay, I’m going to learn something from that failure, and I’m going to try again on Tuesday. I’m going to try again on Wednesday.”
Later in the interview, he extended this belief across disciplines, noting that even if he never achieved his ultimate dreams on the basketball court, he would take the lessons he learned there and apply them to his next endeavor—for example, business.
“But, if I don’t take that stuff and apply that someplace else, then that’s failing, which to me is the worst possible thing you could ever have is to stop and to not learn,” Bryant said.
The Mamba Mentality has a life of its own
Bryant’s thoughts on success and failure mirror the oft-repeated wisdom that it’s not the destination but the journey that truly matters. Sure, you’re going to win some games and lose others, but the most important thing is constant improvement, no matter the arena. That’s the Mamba Mentality. Although Bryant may have left us, his drive lives on in everyone he inspired to be their absolute best.
About a decade ago, the first classes for dads who wanted to learn to braid their daughters’ hair began to pop up in the mainstream. Traditionally, in many households, moms have been the default hair-doers. After all, they’re the experts with a lifetime of experience styling and braiding their own hair or practicing on their friends.
But this setup was problematic for a few reasons. For starters, as the modern generation of dads began wanting to get more hands-on with childcare responsibilities, many of them found they were hopelessly lost when it came to the morning hair routine. Classes began to pop up all over the country offering practical training for dads who wanted to learn the basic rope braid or French braid.
Over the years, these courses have only grown more popular. Now, the movement is about so much more than the physical task of styling hair, or even rebelling against old-fashioned, restrictive ideas of masculinity.
One group of dads recently experienced this firsthand after attending a “Pints and Ponytails” event.
More and more dads have been learning to braid hair over the last decade or so. Photo credit: Canva
Mathew Carter and Lawrence Price, who run the popular podcast Secret Life of Dads, set up the event with instructors from Braid Maidens. They filled out the guest list with their network of fellow dads and supplied beers and mannequins for all.
The guys had a terrific time. They quickly mastered the practical skills they needed to dive headfirst into the morning and nighttime routines with their daughters. In an Instagram post sharing the experience, Carter and Price wrote that in the course of just a few hours they went from “barely being able to do a ponytail to [perfecting] the Elsa by the end of the class.”
Elsa, of Frozen fame, is legendary for her signature Dutch braid that many little girls want to emulate.
After the dads went home and began implementing their newfound skills, they realized that the event was so much more than a “cute” dismissal of old-fashioned masculinity.
For starters, dads getting involved in doing girls’ hair takes an enormous load off mom’s shoulders. In households with multiple girls, a mom can spend hours getting everyone’s hair just so. Often, kids demand specific styles, but moms also know that sending their girls off to school with messy bedhead will (unfairly) reflect poorly on them socially. There’s a lot of pressure tied to this daily task. Having a tag-team partner to pitch in is incredibly valuable.
One attendee wrote that it was “wonderful to meet so many fellow girl dads who wanted to share more of the unpaid emotional labour at home.”
Even more importantly, the dads say that after the event, doing their daughters’ hair revealed incredible moments they never even knew they were missing out on.
“What’s going on in that room is something much deeper,” Carter and Price wrote in a follow-up post over footage of the men practicing on mannequins. “Learning to braid my daughter’s hair changed what is often seen as just a task … into a moment of connection. That’s when she gets to tell me about her day. That’s when she shares with me things that are happening in her life. And it’s a time that happens at the beginning of each day that I just get to be with her and listen and ask questions and connect. And that has opened the aperture of love between me and my daughter.”
Even modern, hands-on, engaged, and well-meaning fathers sometimes have difficulty connecting with their daughters as they get older.
There are many reasons for this phenomenon. It’s well-studied and was recently documented in The Atlantic article, “The Father-Daughter Divide.”
Meanwhile, Kimberley Benton of Oak City Psychology wrote, “Many men have difficulty connecting with their children on an emotional level because their dads didn’t know how. It’s no ones fault, we just aren’t very good at teaching men about connecting with others.”
Providing, supporting, and being physically present in our kids’ lives is only part of the equation. Being emotionally present requires carving out quiet one-on-one time where discussion can flow freely and honestly. Kids need to feel they have the time and space to open up—something that only gets more difficult for them as they become teenagers.
Many dads never realize that those crucial minutes spent sitting together and styling hair are the perfect opportunity to connect. If you can get good enough to make your daughter look just like Elsa, that’s gravy.
George Lucas’ Star Wars: Episode IV — A New Hope hit theaters in 1977, capturing the imaginations of people across the globe and launching a renewed interest in science fiction. Gary Marshall, producer of the hit show Happy Days, was looking to keep the series fresh in its fifth season, so he listened to his son—a huge Star Wars fan—who asked if there could be an alien on the show.
The show’s cast wasn’t too excited about the bizarre episode, which centered on an alien, Mork from the planet Ork, who landed on Earth in an attempt to bring Richie Cunningham back to his home planet. “It really wasn’t a very good script. It was the worst script we ever had,” Anson Williams, who played Potsie Weber on the show, later recalled.
The actor originally cast as Mork quit just two days before filming, leaving the crew scrambling to find another alien. Al Molinaro, who played diner owner Al Delvecchio on the show, suggested Robin Williams, an actor from his improv class. Williams was brought in to read for the role, and his surprising take on the alien would launch him into superstardom.
Williams made an incredibly unexpected choice during the audition—one that could have jeopardized his chances of securing the role. When Marshall asked Williams to take a seat, he turned upside down, with his head in the chair and his butt in the air.
“He did the whole audition standing on his head,” Marshall said, according to Parade. “He was a whole different, fresh view of a guy doing an outer-space alien.” The producer gave Williams the role, explaining that “he was the only alien to audition.”
“When Robin Williams came on as a Martian, he was all over the place and was improvising some, and they gave him room,” Marshall recalled. “At the end of the episode, 300 people in the audience stood up and applauded, which is not usually done. It didn’t take a genius to know he could do his own show, and we made one for him, Mork & Mindy.”
During rehearsals, the rest of the cast gave Williams room to improvise, and he quickly created the unique Mork character with his “Na-Nu-Na-Nu” greeting and Star Trek-esque handshake.
The episode, “My Favorite Orkan,” which originally aired on Feb. 28, 1978, would go on to become one of the most memorable in the series. “It was one of the best shows in the history of the series,” Anson Williams recalled.
Robin Williams’ performance as the character was so memorable that Paramount rushed an entire show based on the alien, Mork & Mindy, which debuted on Sept. 14, 1978. The Mork character was also invited back on Happy Days the following year for a follow-up episode, “Mork Returns.”
Mork & Mindy initially surpassed Happy Days in the ratings before experiencing a sharp decline over the next three seasons. In the final season, Mork and Mindy had an Orkan baby, played by Jonathan Winters, who aged backward. By the final episodes in 1982, Williams had become a bona fide movie star, having starred in Popeye and The World According to Garp.
Williams was such an incredible talent that one audition—where he stood on his head—probably wasn’t the sole reason for his incredible success. But it is a great example of how extraordinary talent expresses itself in ways most people can’t fathom. Kudos to Gary Marshall and the producers of Happy Days for embracing his lunacy instead of laughing Williams out of the studio, and for giving him the space to explode into America’s living rooms.
