Every now and again there’s a conversation that’s so enlightening and moving that it sort of sends your mind reeling. Yesterday, I had one such exchange with a colleague over coffee who I first met when she interned with the company I co-founded. It made me realize how much words matter and the difference they can make.
As the first in her family to go to college, there were a lot of experiences at our agency that were totally new—eye opening even. Of course, I didn’t realize this at the time. She just seemed like a bright young professional with an ability to put people at ease and a willingness to learn. But as we sat and shared coffee, she recounted something that was so humbling and sort of astounding, it touched me deeply.
She talked about trying to orient herself to writing for public relations and then reading a press release I had written just to get a feel for style and tone. Her words were that it was unlike anything she had encountered and made her imagine colors. Unbeknownst to me, the experience led her to take an interest in Chicano literature, which led to some personal development opportunities later.
After her internship ended, I followed her career on LinkedIn as I do with many people I’ve worked with over time. She graduated and went on to do social media for another university, so when the agency that acquired the one I had co-founded was in need of a digital media person, she was at the top of my list. Of course, she hadn’t shared any of her experiences with me at that point, but I remembered her being easy to work with and sharp, so I advocated for her to apply.
For the second time working together, we enjoyed a trusting and productive working relationship. So, when she accepted another position that was a good opportunity for she and her family, I was genuinely pleased for her and thought this coffee meeting would be a nice chance to see her in person after many months and to bid her good luck in her next chapter.
But it was so much more.
This is where the idea of mentorship really shows itself as one dimensional. While I’m further along in my career than her, my sense is that I have learned so much more from her than she from me. Certainly, she did all the things an aspiring young professional should: asking smart questions, humble but eager attitude, willingness to grow and take risks, grateful demeanor, problem solver, etc. Yet in her opening up about her back story and career path to date, I learned about obstacles faced along the way, how words helped and hurt and inspired and confused, so many things I didn’t pick up on, and the value of doing things that may be important to someone else but seem like nothing to you.
The conversation where she recounted how gestures or small things along the way had changed the trajectory of her path answered a question I have been asking myself a lot lately: what difference does it make? In any career, there are things that are required and then there are things we do because they meet a personal standard or seize an unseen opportunity that may feel like they matter, but it often seems like nobody notices. For me, that’s a constant struggle.
More specifically, I essentially write emails and google things for a living so over time that can just feel like it amounts to a lot of data entered and forgotten. Word documents, tweets, Slack messages, Zoom meetings, texts, and on and on and on. They come and they go.
This past year doing it all from a guest bedroom in relative isolation, it has often felt like something a lunatic would do: sitting in a room along and typing things into a machine that nobody will remember. It has sometimes felt like I could just as well be rearranging blocks in a box for eight hours a day. Not unlike repeating any word over and over again, the work can start to seem nonsensical and meaningless.
But as this person and I sat at a table in the park and talked about the impact of these small things in the moment and over time, I was hit with the realization not only did those isolated things matter a great deal—to us both—but that there were likely many others that had a transformational effect, which translated into something else positive and even revelatory. I know this is true of me, people will send a text or comment on a post or send an email and just a few words touch me profoundly and stay with me for years.
I am reminded of the quote “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.” Throughout the pandemic I have thought of that with the addendum “…on top of the battle you know everything about”. Certainly her words have taught and inspired me—opening my mind. After a long and open conversation in the park with someone I admire so much who took a chance to tell me about things I had done that mattered, I’m now repeating a new sort of mantra:
“Be hopeful, for everyone you meet is looking for possibility and you just might be it.”
