Seeing People

I’ve been working back-to-back trade shows this month. I’ve been doing events for 35 years.

There are skills that go into event management. Organization. Knowing how to troubleshoot. Bringing together all kinds of resources to get things done.

It’s great work. Stressful, too. Trying to orchestrate the alignment of a thousand moving parts- within the parameters of an inflexible schedule- when there are countless factors out of your control, can make you crazy. I have definitely dropped my basket a few times over the years.

Recently, I joined up with a new trade show management company. I was so unhappy in the role I had that I bailed out on an event I planned for a year (something I’ve never done before) and took a giant pay cut (something we really couldn’t afford) to try to love my work again. Also, my health was falling apart (stress sucks).

I made the right move. Here’s how I know: taking care of people is more important to my new employer than anything else.

A lot of organizations claim to put people first, treat employees like family, and prioritize humanity. But, in my experience, bottom lines and deadlines tend to take precedence. In the event world, that can leave you threadbare, often working with fewer resources than you need and a lot less support than you deserve. I hate those company cultures. They’re so backward, it’s not even funny.

Two months into my new role, my Dad died. The president and vice president of the company- both women- reached out and said, “Take all the time you need.” They meant it. They messaged the entire organization and let them know one of their own was going through a terrible time. And every single one of my coworkers- many of which I’ve never met before- reached out to share their love and support and offered to fill in the gaps. No one asked me for anything during my leave. No one said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but…” No one demanded anything from me.

It was crunch time for one of my events and I was a key player. Still, no one pressured me to do anything except take care of myself. They sent notes saying they were thinking of me and praying for me. They sent cards and gifts. What they never sent were work questions. They saw me in that moment. And it was everything.

When I did return to work, I was greeted with compassion and understanding. I limped through the hazy days of brain fog, and did what I’ve been doing for decades. Only this time I wasn’t afraid to share my struggles. I knew everyone had my back. That’s a big damn deal.

Arriving on site for my show in Chicago, I felt wobbly. But my team surrounded me with love. We spent meal times sharing stories and getting to know one another. When they asked how I was doing, I would say I was fine. Then, they drilled down. They needed specifics. They wanted to know how to take care of and pray for me. They also let me into their hearts and lives so I could return the kindness

The best part, though, was realizing that my team members conducted themselves the exact way I do at an event. We greeted every vendor. We smiled as we chatted with security guards and asked how they were doing. We checked in with the cleaning crew to make sure they had water and access to our over abundance of snacks. We sat in the security office with the woman whose wallet was stolen and who needed a shoulder to cry on, the catering rep who had been yelled at by an attendee, and the audio visual tech whose girlfriend just left him.

We did not talk to these people about deadlines. They knew what they were. We did not tell them how to do their jobs. They knew what to do.

Instead, we just saw people as they were and everything else fell into place.

On the last day, a security guard said: “Usually people just walk right past us. They don’t even say hello. But, you guys make us feel glad to be here.”

There were hugs and happy tears as we walked out of the convention center at the end of the event. Because we made countless connections through the simplest acts of humanity. And my heart felt as full as my feet felt tired.

Don’t get me wrong, there were tough moments during the event. There always are. But, I never felt alone. No one did. And that’s the difference that makes all the difference.

When people are taken care of, they show it. They work better. They act better. They are better. The production and the profits have always been about the people. You can generally squeeze what you want out of others. But, the juice is always sweeter when it comes from nurtured fruit.

It’s amazing how many folks get this wrong. I know I did as a young manager. I was in my mid twenties when I was first assigned people to lead. I made so many mistakes. Sometimes I still do. But almost every error came down to forgetting our shared humanity.

I love when I am someone who smiles at every cashier, bag person, janitor, doorman, shopkeeper, passerby, etc. Sometimes, when I’m in a sour mood, I forget to do it. I have to be intentional about it. But, over time, it’s become more and more natural for me. And I notice my world changes as it reflects back my kindness. I know kindness- both giving and receiving- brings out the best in me.

We all need to be seen. Probably the easiest way to experience that is to really see others. And probably the easiest way to do that is to pay attention and be kind to the people around you. It’s simple, right?

I’ve had a lot of bad days lately and it has been difficult to get outside of my own sadness enough to show kindness to others. I’ve found, though, that being the person I wish would see me has helped me be more seen.

Yesterday was super tough. It was Father’s Day. I had to work all day. I felt like a ghost walking around inside my grief, trying to do normal things and support people who hadn’t just had the rug pulled out from under them. As I walked toward my car to leave for the day, I saw a young family. The baby girl was falling asleep on her father's shoulder. I was watching her, trying to remember how it felt to be little and to have my dad hold me like that. Suddenly, she looked over and smiled at me. I smiled back. Then, her parents turned toward me. I said, “You have the most beautiful family. Happy Father’s Day.” Their response was everything. They thanked me profusely as they smiled. It was their first Father’s Day as a family. How precious. That moment needed to be seen.

My spirits were lifted and I drove home with a tinge of joy in my heart.

I saw them. They saw me. And that was the reminder I needed that this life can be so beautiful.

Open your eyes. Open your heart.

We’re all just walking each other home.

Xoxo, B