“Forget what you believe, and believe what you see” is a quote that a client of my company places at the top of his emails. He attributes it to John Gambino, the Italian-born American mobster. Whenever I see the line, I am struck by its simple but powerful message. It also reminds me of how much our lived experiences shape the ways in which each of us views the world.

The sense I get from my conversations with some of my African friends here in America is that as a Black immigrant, I should have a certain generalized view of this country. My writings come across to them as overly glorifying of this society at times. In fact, I have been described by a few of my friends as “more American than the Americans themselves.” That baffles me because I have been quite critical of America when I’ve needed to be. But I suspect that some of my friends think I should be a little more suspicious of this nation than I appear to be in their eyes.

They have a point, to some extent. It is impossible for a Black man and an immigrant like me to live in America for over three decades, as I have, without experiencing some ugly forms of the racism that, regrettably, continues to be a huge problem in this country. And then there are the myriad other flaws of American society, such as extreme poverty in many parts of this wealthy nation, homelessness, and inadequate healthcare for large numbers of citizens. The senseless gun violence, and the inability or unwillingness of elected officials to do much about it, make those of us who grew up elsewhere shake our heads.

I liken America to an onion. Its multi-layered society has undesirable parts that must be peeled off in order to discover what is appealing. Over the course of my life here, I have done a lot of peeling, and have seen much that I like. Of the many positive attributes of American culture, the one that stands out the most for me is the down-to-earth nature of its people.

I grew up in a society where socio-economic class heavily influenced how people related to each other. Officially, Ghana did not have a caste system, but I often felt out of place in many circles because my family was extremely poor. To be fair, even in a relatively non-hierarchical society like America, this problem does exist. We often hear about the loneliness epidemic that is causing increasing levels of depression among students, particularly in the K-12 system. But my observation is that in America, that sense of isolation is not driven primarily by socio-economic status in the way that it does in places like Ghana.

In How to Know a Person, David Brooks wrote about the deep yearning for dignity that all humans have. According to Brooks, people experience joy when they feel “seen” by others. He strongly recommends that we all try to make eye contact when speaking with others, to make people feel that we are listening to them and placing value on what they say.

I have encountered a few snobs here and there in America over the years. But overwhelmingly, the people I have met on college campuses, in the various places I have worked, in stores, on the streets, and elsewhere, have made me feel seen.

I was a newly minted MBA when I joined the company I now work for. I knew absolutely nothing about the industry I was entering, so my expectation was that at least in the initial couple of years, I would mostly spend my time in a corner somewhere in the building learning the ropes. But to my surprise, within a few weeks, I started receiving invitations to meetings that had pretty much all of the senior executives in attendance. The discussions were always heavily focused on the minutia of the company’s technical operations so I was completely lost as I sat in each of those sessions. I had nothing to contribute and, in my mind, was an unnecessary presence in those conference rooms. I continued to be invited nonetheless.

We were in the middle of a meeting one day when it became clear that it was going to extend well into the lunch hour. Someone suggested a meal order for the group to avoid interrupting the session. The then president of the company, who was in the meeting, volunteered to go and pick up the lunch. That to me was a surprise in itself. But I was quite astonished when, upon his return, he took out the only vegetarian sandwich in the order and handed it to me.

In the short period of time that I had been with the company, I had engaged in a couple of casual conversations with the president. I must have mentioned in one of them that I am a vegetarian, and he had taken note of that. He remembered it when he went to pick up the lunch, and made sure that the restaurant server included something that was appropriate for me. I don’t think there is a better way of making someone feel seen than that demonstration of respect by the president that day.

A few years prior to that experience, a close friend of mine invited me to his graduation from the Kellogg School of Management at Northwestern University in Chicago. Shortly before the ceremony, I made a quick stop to the bathroom. I heard footsteps behind me as I entered. The gentleman approached the urinal next to the one I had picked. Sensing his imposing presence, I reflexively turned my head slightly to take a peek at him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Standing next to me, almost shoulder-to-shoulder, was the then U.S. Treasury Secretary, who was the commencement guest speaker. Seconds later, when we were both washing our hands at adjacent sinks, he turned to look at me to say hello. We exchanged pleasantries as we walked out.

In the world that I grew up in, presidents of companies do not go out to carry lunch and bring it to their employees. It is unthinkable that finance ministers there would use such public bathrooms. If they were forced to in emergency situations, they certainly wouldn’t make eye contact with some random and “unimportant” people they meet there, let alone exchange pleasantries. There is something quite unique about American humility that is beyond admirable.

That national character is one of the most important pillars of America’s enduring democracy. Despite occupying one of the highest offices in the land, the Treasury Secretary I met that day had absolutely no trouble using a public bathroom and interacting with anyone he met there. That is why these high-level public officials are able to so easily transition back to private life when their terms of office end. They are able to once again think of themselves as ordinary men and women, driving themselves to places, walking their dogs, cutting their own grass, and doing their own grocery shopping.

Elsewhere, mostly in the rigidly hierarchical societies, once people taste power, they are unwilling to let go of the privileges that come with it. They employ all sorts of nasty tactics to keep themselves in office, even if that entails killing countless numbers of people. Due to that lack of humility, there are places in the world today where some of these entitled people have sat on their thrones for nearly half a century.

Because I fully felt the sting from the disregard that people at the top end of the socio-economic ladder had for the rest of us at the bottom during my early years in Ghana, respect for other people’s dignity has become extremely important to me in my adult life. I am not at the foot of the pole anymore, but I care a lot about the feelings of those who are trapped there and are unable to climb, not always because of lack of effort. That explains my strong distaste for arrogant people, and especially for dictators who place themselves above everyone else in their societies. Neither power nor wealth should dictate how anyone treats others.

Of the African immigrants in my current circle of friends in America, I don’t know anyone who grew up as poor as I did. So perhaps the American humility that I so greatly admire does not mean that much to them. That would be perfectly understandable, since individual tastes and preferences are heavily dictated by unique lived experiences. Their opinions of America, which they are of course entitled to, may very well be shaped by other considerations that are more important to them.

I have learned that in the enormously complex and rapidly shifting world we live in today, it is best to avoid becoming rigidly wedded to a fixed system of beliefs. John Gambino may not be someone that any of us should take inspiration from, but I find his advice on open-mindedness quite useful. I continue to peel this onion, and based on what I see in each new layer, I update some of my prior views and jettison those that I no longer find valid. That approach has served me extremely well in a lot of ways.