OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD

Cheeks up
Cheeks up. It’s kind of my new mantra. I hear myself saying it often mostly before I leave the house to face the world.
You see, I have this rather somber looking face. I used to tell people, if you come view me while I am sleeping, this scowl you see on my face is my natural relaxed expression. My cousin says it’s because we have Native American blood. He says, have you ever seen an Indian smile? (He’s not very politically correct).
I also have heard myself tell folks regarding my dour expression, “It is part of my upbringing.” It’s like camouflage. In the neighborhood in which I grew up you had to be either tough or get roughed up. I wasn’t ever very tough, and I am not a fast runner, so I think my guardian angel made sure that my face looked mean, so if I wasn’t actually tough I looked tough and that way I was beaten up less.
I never really gave it much thought. Looking mean served me well growing up. What made me realize how mean I looked was a trip to New York City. Before my trip I asked my brother (who lived in New York at the time): Is it safe? He laughed. Why are you concerned? You have the look other people fear. Ouch. But when I thought about it, he was right.
I started remembering all the times I’d be walking down the sidewalk and I’d see some person approaching in the distance and then I’d watch them cross to the other side of the street. I guess, it also doesn’t help that I like to wear hoodies.
And anytime I would fly an airline that doesn’t have assigned seats I am almost guaranteed an empty seat next to me, unless the plane is completely full. One time an old lady was walking up the aisle. There was an empty seat next to me and one across the aisle next to this guy that looked like he came right out of central casting for how to look like a biker. Dirty jeans, boots, chains, sleeves cut off his denim jacket. The lady stopped in the aisle, looked at him, looked at me and sat down next to him.
So, I started this little game I call, “Cheeks Up.” Before I leave the house I push my face cheeks up. And the whole time in public I keep reminding myself, “Cheeks Up.”
It’s amazing. Although this cheeks up is not a genuine smile, it appears to be a smile to others. Almost anywhere I go, with the “Cheeks Up” philosophy people constantly smile back. It’s as if we all walk around protecting our emotions until someone else smiles. Then it’s like a sign, it’s okay to relax and smile back.
I told my cousin about this. He poo-pooed the notion but he agreed to try it. We went for a walk and he pushed his cheeks up. This cousin not only has the same sour face, he has a bunch of tats and dresses kind of like a gang-banger and still he kept getting big grins thrown back at him. We were both amazed.
Now, I’m thinking that maybe this should be a national campaign, “Cheeks-Up.” If we could get more people to walk around with a smile, even if it’s a forced “Cheeks-Up” smile I’m sure we’d get a lot more people smiling. And, smiling is good. To receive a smile almost always feels nice and if you go around giving smiles you’ll be sure to get some back.
I know this sounds silly but try it. “Cheeks Up.”
Gabriel A. Fraire has been a writer more than 40 years. He can be reached through his website at gabrielfraire.com.