Irecently came face to face with the glaring realization that it’s getting harder and harder for people to wait … for anything.
A green light. The bicyclist who ran a red light at Spruce and 13th streets in Boulder was in a big hurry until the oncoming car reprimanded her with a blaring honk of the horn. Rather than pedal quickly through the intersection, she positioned herself in front of the car and slowed down, spitting on the passenger window as the car went around.
Now, wait just a minute.
A parking space. The food delivery driver who stole a parking spot from a patron who waited patiently for the spot to become available in the Boulder Public Library parking lot. The patient patron quickly became impatient and decided to block the delivery driver’s car, giving new meaning to the term “dine-in.” Meanwhile, the dispassionate delivery driver proceeded to the library to make his delivery.
Just wait your turn.
As an educator, I’ve learned the value of wait time in the classroom. Used effectively, wait time increases student comprehension, participation, and test scores. Research indicates that the optimal wait time is three seconds. If teachers consistently reach this threshold, positive behaviors emerge. Teachers whose wait time approaches 5.3 seconds engage a wider range of cognitive levels and experience an increase in task completion.
Our family dog, Bluebell, was no stranger to wait time. Bluebell loved to fetch balls, sticks and even snowballs. Bluebell’s puppy training taught her that wait time led to reward. Wait. Waaaait. Waaaaaaaait. Go get it!
What if people started practicing more wait time? The bicyclist would arrive to her destination unflustered and in a good mood. The delivery driver would hone his delivery routes, giving him more time to interact with customers and, possibly, increase his tips (and his “like” factor with other drivers).
I found myself in my car waiting at an intersection while an elderly man shuffled slowly, bent over, pushing his aging wife in a wheelchair across the street. Theirs was a peaceful countenance. Not hurried or harried, just enjoying the moment.
Just wait.
Cheryl Newey of Louisville teaches language arts at Thornton High School.
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