Respect wears sneakers

By Herman M. Lagon

You often notice them before they even say a word. The teacher who starts the day with a simple nod, the janitor whose smile never misses a morning, the colleague who finishes what they promise—without needing a nudge. They are not the ones chasing attention or collecting awards. But somehow, they draw people in. They do not demand respect. They just live in a way that makes you give it, almost instinctively. They just live in a way that earns it.

An unauthored viral Facebook post recently listed twelve habits that spark this kind of quiet admiration. Each one reads like a reminder of values many of us hold dear—consistency, humility, accountability, and presence. In our schools, offices, and barangays, respect is rarely automatic. It grows through repeated acts of character. Think of that co-teacher who arrives early not for points, but out of respect for students’ time. That says more than any memo.

Keeping your word, especially when inconvenient, does not trend on TikTok. But it builds a name people trust. A promise kept—whether returning a lesson plan or covering a class—is more than good manners. It is currency. In a culture where relationships soften the hard edges of work, trust is worth more than applause.

Owning up to mistakes is another powerful move, especially in a country where saving face often outweighs saying sorry. Saying, “I messed up,” no frills, no finger-pointing, makes room for honesty. A 2022 Harvard Business Review piece backs this up—teams led by people who admit fault tend to perform better. It is true in meetings, classrooms, and even PTA assemblies.

Listening before speaking is underrated. In a culture shaped by pakikisama, real listening—not just waiting your turn—is rare. But when someone actually listens, it shows respect. In team huddles or over lunch, that kind of presence builds trust. It reflects what some call inner depth: the habit of stepping back to understand, not just respond.

Saying what you mean—clearly and kindly—is not rudeness; it is clarity. In hierarchical settings, this can feel risky. But simple words, offered with grace, matter. No passive-aggressive Messenger replies. Just: “Here is what I think.” Research from UP’s College of Communication confirms that clear internal messaging leads to stronger collaboration, especially in fast-moving school environments.

Gossip, meanwhile, may seem like background noise—but resisting it is a quiet kind of power. The teacher who stays silent when the room turns chismis sends a clear message: dignity matters. It is not dramatic, but it speaks volumes.

Problem-solvers always stand out. Anyone can point out flaws, but those who say, “This is tough—here is one thing I tried,” make themselves part of the solution. According to a Civil Service Commission survey, government employees feel more engaged when ideas are heard. Respect, it turns out, is as much about contribution as it is about character.

Extra-mile moments do not have to be heroic. Maybe it is printing an extra copy for a teammate or giving heads-up before a deadline. These unnoticed gestures linger. In the Jesuit school where I worked before, this is called cura personalis or caring for the whole person. In simpler terms: you help because you can, not because someone’s watching.

Letting others shine is another subtle habit. The supervisor who names their team’s wins, the teacher who praises a student’s effort—these are not empty compliments. They show confidence without ego. Research from the Ateneo School of Government notes that collective credit sustains morale better than individual praise.

Asking for feedback—and using it—is a brave act in a society where criticism often feels personal. But asking, “How can I do better?” signals growth over pride. It tells others that you value progress more than polish.

Curiosity over judgment also earns quiet respect. Asking, “Tell me more,” instead of dismissing someone outright, creates bridges. In classrooms where Gen Z values shift and older educators adjust, curiosity fosters empathy. And empathy opens minds.

Lastly, composure under pressure might be the most underrated strength. When the internet crashes mid-class or a parent storms in at dismissal, the calm colleague becomes the steadying force. Not because they are unbothered—but because they choose clarity over chaos.

These habits are not grand. They are mostly invisible. No standing ovation greets the teacher who fixes the projector or the admin who quietly reprints lost exam sheets. But over time, those quiet patterns build a name people remember.

Respect is not a medal pinned at the year’s end. It is found in eye contact, in how people wait when you speak, in the way they turn to you when things get tough. These are the signs. Not loud. Not flashy. Just real.

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Doc H fondly describes himself as a ”student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.