1 Hour
People that work with me or work on project from me, will often hear my story of the last 12 months. Over the last 12 months many unusual fantastical occurance of middle-life have happened. What makes them into story quality are the choice made in these tales. Perhaps by recanting them, I am solidifying my journey, or perhaps its a litmus check on the crazy. Either way, you will hear about Ebony.
As I often do, I meet with people over caffine. A coffee shop lends to a certain level of casualness that I quite prefer when collaborating with people more established, more accomplished. Well let’s say it’s my way to even the past resumes to equal so we can impart on the task at hand together. Corny? Perhaps but it makes me more comfortable. It is my sweet spot. So, on this day I asked a long-time friend to join me over coffee to pick her brain and come up with a mind-blowing concept for TEDxMonterey.
The shop is crazy busy and we end up chatting about the children, the school, everyday life and ease on into a conversation about the event and task at hand. As we talk the tablemates in this crowded cafe change. A business man in his finest California-casual business attire comes and goes after a few email checks and sips. An empassioned minister pouring over his Bible and spouting off versus as if a turret episode is coming on. A woman with an older computer and an overall pleasant disposition toward us and the minister.
As we hurried through our conversation and what the possibilities were for the event concept between sips of hot coffee, we started to wrap up. The woman leaned over and bravely said “Excuse me. I am wondering if you could help.” The minister stares at her and says, “There is nothing they can do to help you.” Now my interest is completely peaked.
My friend and I listen as this woman, stranger, asks for help with her resume. “You see I like the way you talk. Maybe you could just look at what I have and give me some advice.” My beautiful, creative and amazing friend looks at her and says, “Not me, but she can help you.” with a big thumb gesture over in my direction. I watch the minister shake his head in disapproval. “What is your name”, I asked. “Ebony.”
I spent exactly 1 hour with Ebony. Well about 20 minutes reviewing her information and talking with her at the coffee shop after my friend said her good-byes. And another 40 minutes remotely from home. We worked on her resume. From one mother to another. She was digging out. She was scrapping for something else. She asked for my help.
Ebony wanted to improve her life, move her family and improve her income. To do that, she was determined to apply for the leading nursing program in the area. The resume was to be accepted to the leading program - enrolled into the program above anyone else. Selection for the program was life and death. New life and old life. New beginning and same old story. I listened. I helped by turning her perspective just 45 degrees to see she was indeed qualified. The minister chimed in a few times to disagree and Ebony politely refused his perspective. It was a moment in time I will carry forever.
My billable one hour is more than Ebony could pay. Her billable one hour is more than I could ever make. To date, Ebony was accepted into the program. She graduated, having done very well in her class, and is now looking for work. The work that will change everything. The work that is her new path.
She will email me from time to time to simply thank me and offer a coffee. Who will be the next 1 hour I can devote some power at, I think as I beam from her successes? Perhaps none. Today I can tell my story as atriumphant answer to the call of help from a passing stranger. Maybe I can encourage you to just listen at one moment in the coffee shop and hear the plead for help, subtle or not, and ... help.
Best 1 hour of my life.