The Joey Effect

For those who inspire goodness

I wrote this column for The Salt Lake Tribune in 2021, but it didn’t see the ink of day then. Today is her birthday. And this is still true.

There’s something about a person who makes you feel safe. It’s like they transform all the walls that guard you into paraffin hand wax that crumble with even the gentlest urge. Fresh air. No containment. Softness exposed.

My sister, Joey, does that. She’s safe. Not just for me, but maybe every person who has the good fortune to share her path (family, friends, colleagues, grocery store clerks, servers, kids, animals, etc.).

The thing is, that’s not the extent of her impact on those around her; it’s the foundation. The ripple effect of her radical kindness, deep empathy, brilliant humor, fluid grace and willingness to give people her full attention is that she creates space for each of us to rise up and be our better selves.

It’s The Joey Effect — and this month — marks a milestone number of years (you’re welcome for that ambiguity, sister) leaving places and people better than she found them.

Her influence is a gentle but profound one. She’s the first person to whom many of us came out as LGBTQ. She’s the person we have on speed dial for a crisis. She’s a celebrator, a processor, a cheerleader and someone, who without a second thought, gives everyone (really, everyone) the benefit of the doubt.

When she speaks, she’ll look up and blink her eyes a couple of times as she takes a breath. That’s when she’s composing the most eloquent, fair, thoughtful way to concisely articulate even the most complex or difficult thoughts. What follows is always a perspective that broadens the context, validates all feelings and encourages compassion.

But despite being all these things plus athletic, nurturing, booksmart and wickedly funny, if you asked her what talents she possesses, she’d say she’s really good at pouring liquid from one container into another without spilling (which is also true). But if you asked her what talents you possess, she’ll crack open a world of genuine praise pinpointing specific ways you excel.

So we’ll add humility to her list and acknowledge that she leaves so much space for others to notice how they thrive.

This is why, on her birthday, I’m (audaciously, because I’m not her) coining this new phrase to describe the way of being that encourages goodness: The Joey Effect.

It’s those moments when we help someone see a better path even when it might be the harder one. It’s the times when we don’t laugh at the off-color joke, but instead gently and assertively interrupt damaging stereotyping. It’s the encouragement of others in concert with the caretaking of ourselves to ensure the sustainability of our support. It’s empathy in the face of adversity. Listening when we have the urge to respond. Seeking understanding when it’s simpler to judge.

The Joey Effect is one that many of us have on others, even if not with her remarkable consistency. It’s our quiet support. Our patience over urgent responsiveness. Our commitment to seeing each others’ humanity first.

It’s not just being the kindest versions of ourselves, but when we inspire others to step into their own greatness. It’s Joey and her effect on the world around her — and we’re all better off for it.

Happy birthday, sister.

You are loved as much as you share your love.