Alexis Alvarado

What Kind of World Are We Creating?

Have you ever been the outsider in a situation, standing just far enough away to see something clearly that everyone else seems to have stopped noticing?

Have you ever witnessed someone's behavior and thought, How is this allowed? How did we get to a place where this has become acceptable?

Sometimes it is not one dramatic moment that stops us in our tracks. It is the accumulation of small acts: the exclusion, the humiliation, the dismissive comments, the cruelty disguised as humor, the person who is consistently made to feel like they don't belong.

And sometimes the most disturbing part isn't only the behavior itself. It is watching everyone around it become comfortable with it.

That is where the damage begins to run deeper.

Because hurtful behavior rarely affects only the person on the receiving end. It changes the environment around them. It creates fear, resentment, insecurity, division, and silence. It teaches the people who are watching what is tolerated and what is not.

And when harmful behavior goes unaddressed long enough, people can begin to mistake tolerance for acceptance.

But Why?

Why do we allow people to treat others in ways we would never want to be treated ourselves?

Perhaps because we have become accustomed to it. Perhaps because confronting it is uncomfortable. Perhaps because the person behaving badly has power, influence, popularity, or simply enough people willing to look the other way.

Whatever the reason, silence can have consequences.

The reality is, we have all seen it. And most of us have been there at least once.

We have been the outsider. The person who wasn't included. The person who was misunderstood. The person talked about instead of talked to. The person who walked away from an interaction wondering what they had done to deserve being treated that way.

Those experiences stay with us.

They can change the way we see ourselves and the way we trust others. They can make us question our worth. They can make us afraid to speak up or afraid to be ourselves.

And yet, there is another side to this conversation that is worth examining.

Where Does This Behavior Come From?

I believe we are not born knowing how to be cruel. We aren't born knowing how to exclude, belittle, manipulate, humiliate, or hate. Those behaviors are learned somewhere along the way.

They are modeled. They are reinforced. They are excused.

And sometimes, they are simply never addressed.

A child who learns that cruelty gets attention may continue using cruelty to get attention. A person who learns that belittling others gives them a sense of power may carry that behavior into adulthood. Someone who has never been held accountable may eventually convince themselves that the problem isn't their behavior; it's everyone else's reaction to it.

And some people simply never grow out of mean-person behavior.

Getting older does not automatically make us wiser. Time does not guarantee maturity. Growth requires something more difficult: self-awareness.

It requires looking honestly at ourselves and asking, Could I be part of the problem? Have I hurt someone? Have I contributed to an environment where someone else felt small, unwanted, or unsafe?

Those are not easy questions. But they are important ones.

Because How We Treat Other People Is a Reflection of Who We Are

Not who we claim to be.

Not who we want people to think we are.

Who we actually are.

I have always believed that the world has a way of giving back what we put into it. Maybe not immediately. Maybe not in the way we expect. And maybe not as some perfectly balanced version of karma where every wrong is instantly repaid.

But I believe our choices have a way of circling back.

The energy we put into our relationships affects the relationships we have. The way we speak to people shapes the environment around us. The respect we give, or refuse to give, becomes part of the world we are helping create.

Like the sun turns, so does life.

People change positions. Circumstances change. Relationships change. The person who once felt powerful may one day find themselves in a position where they need the compassion they refused to give someone else.

And that is where I wonder about the system working in reverse.

What if, instead of rewarding cruelty with attention, we stopped giving it power?

What if, instead of protecting harmful behavior because confronting it is uncomfortable, we addressed it?

What if, instead of asking, Why is that person so sensitive? we asked, Why did we allow someone to be treated that way in the first place?

What if kindness became something we actively practiced, not just something we talked about?

What if inclusion mattered more than popularity?

What if accountability mattered more than protecting someone's reputation?

What if we recognized that being kind does not mean being weak, and holding someone accountable does not mean being hateful?

Perhaps the system could change.

Not overnight. Not perfectly. But one interaction at a time.

We can choose to be the person who speaks up when someone is being mistreated. We can choose not to participate in gossip. We can choose to include the person standing alone. We can choose to apologize when we are wrong. We can choose to teach our children that having power over someone does not give us permission to hurt them.

And perhaps most importantly, we can choose to look at our own behavior.

Because it is easy to point at the person being cruel.

It is harder to ask ourselves whether we have ever been the person who stayed silent.

The person who laughed.

The person who excluded someone.

The person who watched something happen and decided it wasn't our problem.

We don't have to be perfect to make a difference. We simply have to be willing to recognize that our behavior matters.

Every interaction leaves something behind.

A person can leave someone feeling valued, respected, and seen.

Or they can leave them wondering what is wrong with them.

We may never know the full impact of our words or actions on another person. The interaction that means very little to us may become something they remember forever.

That should make us pause.

Because at the end of the day, the question isn't only, What kind of world do we live in?

It is also:

What kind of world are we creating through the way we treat one another?

We don't get to control every person we encounter. We don't get to decide how others behave.

But we do get to decide who we are.

And perhaps that is where change begins, not with everyone else, but with each of us deciding that cruelty will not be something we normalize, silence will not be our automatic response, and someone else's pain will never be something we simply learn to overlook.

Because the way we treat others is not just about them.

It tells the world something about us.

Walk Through the Door

I’ve always believed that doors exist for one reason: to be opened.

Think about it. If a space was never intended to be entered, it wouldn’t have a door at all. It would simply be a wall. A barrier. A dead end.

Every door was designed to lead somewhere.

Life is much the same.

Throughout our lives, we are constantly standing in front of doors. Some we confidently walk through. Others intimidate us. Some we ignore because we are afraid of what is waiting on the other side.

Yet every one of them represents something more than an opening.

It represents an opportunity.

It represents the beginning of a journey.

Not every door leads to a destination we have never seen. Some open into familiar rooms—places we have visited before. They remind us of where we have been, what we have learned, and sometimes even why we needed to leave in the first place.

There is comfort in those spaces, and occasionally we are meant to revisit them to gain a new perspective.

But it is the other doors that fascinate me.

The ones that open into empty rooms.

Most people see an empty room and think there is nothing there.

I see possibility.

An empty room is not empty because it lacks purpose. It is empty because it is waiting for someone to give it one.

It is a blank canvas.

It is a place where ideas become reality, where dreams begin to take shape, and where creativity has room to breathe.

Too often, we mistake emptiness for absence.

We walk away because we do not immediately see the finished product.

But growth rarely introduces itself fully developed.

It starts as an empty space.

A new career begins with a blank office.

A business begins with an empty notebook.

A friendship begins with a conversation.

A family begins with two people.

Even a hospital begins as an empty shell before it becomes a place where lives are saved.

Everything meaningful begins in a space that once appeared empty.

The challenge is not finding the perfect room.

The challenge is having the courage to walk through the door before you know what the room will become.

I have learned that some of the greatest opportunities in my life did not look like opportunities at all.

They looked like uncertainty.

They looked like hard work.

They looked like being the least experienced person in the room.

They looked like asking questions I was afraid to ask.

They looked like opening another codebook because I knew there was still more to learn.

None of those moments felt comfortable.

But comfort has never been where growth lives.

Every meaningful chapter of my life began by walking through a door that made me uncomfortable.

Sometimes I found exactly what I expected.

Sometimes I found something entirely different.

Sometimes I discovered strengths I did not know I had.

Sometimes I found mentors who changed the course of my life.

And sometimes I found failure.

But even failure became another doorway rather than a destination.

One lesson simply opened the next opportunity to grow.

Doors Don’t Just Open Inward

I have also realized something else.

Sometimes we become the ones holding doors open for someone else.

A mentor opens a door.

A teacher opens a door.

A parent opens a door.

A friend opens a door.

Leadership is not about walking through every opportunity first. Sometimes it is about making sure someone else has the courage to walk through theirs.

Maybe that is why I love teaching so much.

Every time I share knowledge, encourage someone to ask another question, or help a healthcare organization become safer, I feel like I am opening another door.

Not for me.

For someone else.

Looking back, I do not think success has been about reaching a destination.

It has been about having the courage to open one more door.

Some led to places I never imagined.

Others led me right back to where I started, but with more wisdom than before.

Every one of them had something to teach me.

So, the next time you find yourself standing in front of a closed door, do not focus only on what you might lose by opening it.

Ask yourself instead:

What if the greatest opportunity of my life is waiting on the other side?

Because doors were never meant to stay closed.

They were built to be opened.

Some doors lead us to opportunities we never imagined. Some lead us to lessons we never expected. Others lead us to people who forever change our lives.

There are doors that challenge us, doors that humble us, doors that remind us where we have been, and doors that reveal who we are becoming.

And then there are doors that lead us to a place of rest.

A place where the hard work has been done, the lessons have been learned, and peace replaces striving.

Rest is not the absence of purpose; it is often the reward for a life lived with courage, perseverance, and faith.

Every door has a purpose.

Every journey has meaning.

Every room has something to teach us.

And every door you choose to walk through has the potential to change not only where you are going, but who you are becoming.

So do not be afraid to reach for the handle.

You were never meant to spend your life standing in the hallway.

Walk through the door.