The Woman Who Didn't Care Who I Was
Don't let your desire for status ruin your ability to meet cool people
People ask each other who they are all the time.
I was part of a citizen jury for a senior exhibition project at the local high school and a woman next to me was really kind of full of herself. When you think of people who have their nose stuck up in the air, this woman would have been the caricature of that, the poor thing.
The other official adults in the crowded room were the assistant principal and the football coach. One of them was passionately ignoring her and there was just a buzz of negative energy coming off her that I couldn’t get a handle on.
As she perched there on the plastic seat, students all around us, she looked at me (down her nose of course) and said, “And who are you?”
And I went with the obvious answer—my name. “Carrie Jones.”
She harrumphed. “Yes, but who are you?”
Sadly, I’m pretty sure she didn’t ask me that question in the esoteric way and wanted to know about my innermost essence.
The football coach snorted and then hid the noise behind his closed fist, shifting awkwardly in his plastic seat. Kids all around us listened.
“I’m Carrie Jones, internationally and New York Times best selling novelist and I grew up in New Hampshire and I’m here because they needed volunteers.” I paused as her disposition changed. I was suddenly interesting and important to her because apparently status mattered to her.
So I put a spin on it.
“Or were you talking about my soul, my innermost essence, my self? Because I don’t think we have time for that before the presentation starts,” I said.
The football coach flew out of his chair, apparently laughing. I wasn’t sure. He shuffled towards the white board, fist over his mouth again.
She gawped at me.
Some kids twittered. I heard someone whisper, “Way to go.”
I felt badly though because I knew that she was probably so focused on status because she was insecure.
Plus, my mother taught me to be polite so I said, “And who are you?”
And she listed her degrees and her occupation and every possible resume bullet point before the presentation started and the football coach sat down again.
He leaned over and whispered, “I’m so sorry I abandoned you.”
I gave him big eyes, pet his arm, and whispered back that it was okay.
“You took one for the team,” he said right before the presentation began.
The senior did a fantastic job. Everyone scored him really highly except for that woman. The students gave him a standing ovation, and she looked around, stunned.
I wasn’t surprised by her reaction. Sometimes on our journeys we meet lost souls, people who are so stuck in negativity that it’s hard not to bristle when you’re next to them, where even the toughest of football coaches want to get away as quickly as they possibly can.
Sometimes these people hyper focus on one aspect of their lives or existences too closely. And when that happens they lose sight of who they really are—inside—and get sucked into status or drama or prestige.
Don’t let that happen to you, okay? Success isn’t about having perfect kids or extra lines in your obituary or hitting some random best seller’s list. YOU aren’t about that either.
Status doesn’t make leaders.
Status doesn’t make goodness.
Status doesn’t make happiness.
When you recognize a person for who they are, not their occupation, or their kids’ grades, or the snazziness of their clothes, their looks, their house, their car, you offer them hope—you see who they are underneath all of society’s b.s. Excuse my language, but some of the kindest people I know would be people that scientist would cross the street to avoid.
Don’t avoid people who don’t look or live like you. You lose out on so much and one of the biggest things you lose out on? It’s yourself. Every opportunity you have to meet someone, to volunteer, to communicate? It’s a chance for you to evolve and grow and become.
That’s really pretty cool.