Perception, Part 1: Shawn

I love to learn.

When I was a kid, I used to read the encyclopedia.  As a pre-teen, I rejected the banal "Goosebumps" series in favor of books about Greek, Roman and Norse mythology.  I elected to become a Coffee Master at Starbucks because I had the chance to explore more about something I loved.  In nearly every job I've held, I've wound up training or teaching others, because I get excited to share what I learn.

Fabulous Twilight Sparkle GIF found at
 alicemarvels.com.

I learned a lot in college about literature, theatre, and relating to people who are different than me.  I learned a lot in church about my faith and my relationship with God and people.  I learned a lot from my parents (all of them) about life in general, and about myself in particular.

But some of the lessons that have made the biggest impact on my life came from one person in particular: Shawn Speir.

Shawn was my store manager when I worked at the Starbucks in Robinson.  He'd been a shift supervisor when I joined the Starbucks family (well, then it WAS more like a family) in Collier right out of college.  We got along very well, despite numerous differences, and he quickly adopted me as both his little sister and his pet project.  He saw potential in me and he worked hard to help me improve both my hard and soft skills.  Both of us were promoted rather quickly, I to a supervisor and he to an assistant manager.  I remember being crushed the day we learned he was being promoted again, and would no longer be working with us.  He was getting his own store.  I had grown so fond of him and was learning so much from him that I couldn't bear the thought of him leaving.  That week, though, he pulled me aside and told me he wanted me to go with him.  

I probably should make it clear at this point that there was no romance between us.  Despite one person's accusation that we were "involved", I can tell you with absolute certainty that Shawn was not interested in me.  Nor I in him.  Although I must admit, until I met Ross, I was convinced that Shawn had the most beautiful eyes on the planet.

But I digress.

At any rate, hearing him say he wanted to take me, to help me work towards my own goal, which was to become an assistant manager, made my heart happy.  I learned how to drive just so my dad no longer had to take me to work (Collier was just up the road, but Robinson was a different story).  

The reason I share all of this is that Shawn had the unenviable task of teaching me some extremely hard lessons.  He took me on as his own project, took responsibility for me, and in some cases forced me to improve myself as a barista, a manager, and a person.  I remember so many private conversations in the back room on the store, where he'd flail about, hysterically angry about something, then immediately compose himself, return to the sales floor, and address a customer or barista with absolute respect and utter calm.  He was so careful never to crack in front of people.  I, too, found myself angry or upset about something beyond my control, and Shawn would carefully, quietly whisper in my ear to leave the floor and take a break.  Sometimes he'd follow me and clearly, frankly explain what I was doing wrong - it was my attitude, or my tone, or whatever.  Because I knew that he loved me - yes, I like to think we'd grown to love each other like siblings - and because I knew that everything he said was coming from a desire to improve me, I received the criticism.  Sometimes, I responded flatly that I didn't like him or was going to cry, and he nodded and told me to finish my ten-minute break.  

He never gave up on me.

But that wasn't the most important thing I learned from Shawn.

I learned that "perception is reality".

What that means is that a customer doesn't notice or care if you just accidentally spilled a 200 degree Americano all over your arm, because all he sees is you NOT making his latte, and he decides you're lazy or slow.

What that means is that your supervisor doesn't care that you're discussing a very difficult break-up with a co-worker, because all she sees is that you're not making your requisite follow-up calls, and she decides you're avoiding work.

What that means is that it doesn't matter if you want to glorify God, because all people hear coming out of your mouth is condemnation, and they decide that religion isn't worth it.

It's true that we can't decide how other people see us, or our situations.  Each person makes his or her own decisions.  About everything.  And the media is the proof of that.  We see a report about a man being gunned down, and a whole campaign rises up about that, despite the facts about the case not being released.  A celebrity tweets her thoughts about a situation halfway across the globe and she is hailed as a hero for mentioning it.  An overweight woman puts on clothes that make her feel comfortable and pretty, and strangers splash her photo all over Instagram, labeling her with unkind words.

We control our own actions.  We can even control our thoughts.  (I share about that here.) And, though we cannot control others' perceptions of ourselves, we can take those perceptions into consideration when we act.  I'm not saying that we need to tread on eggshells around every person, on every issue, but taking care with our word choices, our tone, our body language - all of that goes a long way in regards to how people see us.

In my next post, I'll share why perception is such a big deal - and how it can change your life.

A Decade Without Decaf

I realized it earlier today, as I was driving my son home from his dermatologist's appointment.  It was ten years ago this summer that I was hired at Starbucks.

Ten years ago that I became part of the opening crew at the Collier Town Square Store.

Ten years ago that I began my journey towards understanding adulthood, maturity, and responsibility.  

Ten years ago that I sipped my first cup of freshly brewed, sunny Ethiopia Yirgacheffe, and compared it to the lemony brightness of Kenya.

Ten years ago that I made friends I still think about almost daily, with whom I faltered along as we grew into real-life "grown-ups".

Ten years ago: day one on the job.

Ten years ago that I realized I actually liked coffee.  Like, really, really liked it.

Ten years ago, when I was twenty-two and still expected to make a living in the arts.  (Don't laugh.)

Ten years ago, when I was still starry-eyed about the opposite sex, and continually hoped that HE would walk through the door and somehow be impressed with my knowledge of Arabica coffee beans.

Ten years ago, when my whole life seemed to lie ahead of me and I couldn't wait to run out and grab it.

A few months of working in a coffee shop turned into a "real" job, one where I was working my way up the corporate ladder.  My closest friends were managers who poured into me, who taught me to take responsibility for my choices.  Two of them taught me things I would never forget.  The first thing was that perception was everything.  To most people, truth doesn't matter, but what they think is true does.  The second thing was that you have the right to make your own decisions if you can defend them.  The worst choice you can make is the arbitrary one.

No apron here, though I WAS barefoot
and pregnant, ten years later...

Four and a half years later and a rather ugly falling out led to me working at the bank and, again, working my way into management.  After my first miscarriage, I left the bank (though those two events were unrelated).  I took a job at a small billing office with regular hours, which I had never enjoyed, and virtually no responsibility.  That was a nice change after nearly seven years in management.  But it wouldn't last.  Downsizing forced me "on the streets", so to speak, and after just over a year, I was unemployed.  Six months later, as my unemployment checks were ending, I landed a job at a pediatricians' office, which combined skills from all three of my previous jobs.  I enjoyed it.  A lot.  In fact, I think I was happier there than I was anywhere else, except in the earliest days and at the very end of my stint at Starbucks.

Why is this all important?

Today, THIS little peanut is my boss.

I don't really know.  It's just that I owe a lot to my experiences at The Buck, as we liked to call it.  On the practical side, I learned about time management, critical thinking, customer service, accepting and offering constructive criticism, leadership, and accountability.  These skills served me later as a small group leader, then a youth leader at my church.  I also learned mad coffee-tasting skills and my sense of smell is as sharp as ever.  I can still identify a coffee's country of origin from a single sniff.  Not as thrilling or valuable a skill, I admit, but it's a neat party trick.  I mean, it could be.  If I went to parties.  Or had friends who threw them.

But, in ten years, I have yet to amass those kinds of friends.

Mine are more homebodies.  Not much for clubbing, never were.  More likely to invite me over for fondue than for a night on the town.  Which suits me just fine.

I'll bring dessert.

And decaf.

One More Cup...

Having worked at Starbucks for four and a half years, and not being a coffee drinker before that time, I admit - I was utterly and completely spoiled.  I turned into a coffee snob overnight.  I admonished my trucker dad when he dumped spoonful after spoonful of powdered creamer into his coffee.  "Don't you want to taste the coffee?!" I gasped, watching the mug's contents grow more and more pale.  He simply cast a withering glance over his glasses and said, "I've been drinking this stuff for forty thirty-five years.  I know what I like."  I flounced past Crazy Mocha, Caribou, and mom-and-pop coffee shops as though they were serving dishwater in china cups.  I spent hours of my own time as well as paid time getting to learn the differences in regional coffees - the intimate details of each different blend - the perfect pairing for each type of coffee.  I worked my way up to the coveted title of "Coffee Master".

Of course, all that changed when I lost my job.

No longer could I afford my Iced Triple Tall One Raw Sugar Americanos.  Although I found another job very quickly, I balked at spending $4 on a beverage.  Suddenly I was one of them.  The other.  The customer.

Almost immediately, the high-and-mighty, cavalier coffee supremacist dissolved and was replaced with the slob who was totally cool with microwaving the last few ounces of the cold Giant Eagle cappuccino that she'd picked up on the way to work.  Suddenly, my version of "iced coffee" was brewing a whole pot and then returning two days later with some ice cubes and a spoonful of sugar.  

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Don't get me wrong; my nose is still sharp.  I can still distinguish between a Colombian coffee and a Kenyan one.  I still have a good grasp on which coffees taste best with chocolate, and which are better paired with cinnamon, or nuts.  Even if they don't bear Starbucks on the label.  In fact, I've had the pleasure of meeting with some former and current Starbucks partners (employees) as a newer barista is working her way through the Coffee Master program.  It's great fun, both trying all the coffees again and meeting with old friends.

Which, in a roundabout way, brings me to the whole point of this post.  So many of us drink coffee daily and utterly take it for granted.  It's our morning sunshine when there is no sun, our afternoon pick-me-up, our indulgent treat.  I posted on Facebook earlier today about having had a somewhat challenging day at work, and how the dry cappuccino I'd picked up at our new local coffee shop had made me feel so much better.

My former college roomie (whose children's daily antics are a source of amusement to me) asked what a "dry cappuccino" was.  My knee-jerk reaction was to don the Black Apron again and use professional terms, which, while accurate, would have been irritatingly cocky.  Instead, I explained that there is more foam than liquid in a properly made dry cappuccino, and that a very well-made one is like a dessert, even without any additional sugar.

That's when it hit me - I love coffee for coffee's sake.  Not the caffeine, not the ritual, not the comfort - simply for the pleasure and the experience of drinking it.

And it's okay that I squirm a little when I have to fork over $4 for a latte.  After all, I don't do it that often.

I can just drink what's leftover in the pot from last week.

(I'm grateful that Carnegie's new coffee shop has opened.  You can read my review here.)  

Life Lessons: The "Starbucks" Edition

It's been nearly eighteen months since my split with "The Buck".  My emotions have ranged from anxiety to apathy to resentment, but they always return to deep gratitude.  Gratitude for what I learned from amazing people, less than amazing people, and gratitude that I was released from a situation that was not, ultimately what God wanted for my life.

These are the gems I want to share with you:

1. I don't care what kind of day you are having.  The server, or cashier, or barista is a human being who, in most cases, is not responsible for your bad day.  Treat this individual with respect or at least civility.  Make eye contact.  Do not throw your credit card or cash at her.  Do answer any questions he has with courtesy.  Learn how to say "please" and "thank you".  I truly believe that you can tell a lot about a person by how he or she treats a waitress.  It speaks volumes.

2. I don't care what kind of day you are having.  The customer at your window, table, or in line is a human being who, in most cases, is not responsible for your bad day.  You are being paid to perform a service.  Do it to the best of your ability.  These people do not dictate who you are, nor can they dictate your reactions to what they do or say.  You are wholly responsible for how you act.  Be mature. 

3. Be very, very careful about cultivating deep friendships with married members of the opposite sex outside of work.  Even if nothing happens, you can be certain that someone will think it has, and, as my Starbucks mentor/BFF Shawn B. Speir always told me, "perception is reality".  Reputations are extremely difficult to repair - especially at work.

4. If you are going to make a dramatic change within your company, do not do so with a sloppy, disrespectful, hastily-typed note that leaves hundreds - possibly thousands - of your brightest, hardest workers jobless.  It's bad for publicity, and you cut off your own nose to spite your face.

5. Quality is important to customers, but value is more important.  The masses suffering from cutbacks and unemployment are not going to spend ten dollars for three packets of instant coffee.  That's stupid.

6. Next to stealing from the company, gossip is the worst possible thing you can do - to yourself, your co-workers, and your corporation.  Stop it right now.  If you do not, you will deeply regret it.  Besides, it's really just mean.

7. Friendships are, thank God, thicker than two-day-old mocha sauce.  The co-workers who truly care about you won't care why you left the company.  They just want to see you again.  (I am fortunate that there is a whole mess of those awesome people who love me at the Greentree Drive-Thru.)

8. Complaining does not bring about positive results.  Insubordination does not bring about positive results.  Laziness does not bring about positive results.  Positive results come from teamwork, sharing one goal, open lines of communication, and mutual respect.  It's not easy, but there you have it.

9. The way the head goes, the body will follow.  If you are a leader, act like one.  No double-talk, no false promises and no pretending you are infallible.  If you make a mistake, own up to it.  If you don't know an answer, don't make one up.  Excuse yourself to find the correct answer.  And, most importantly, don't promise unless you can deliver.  Countries have gone into civil war for lesser evils!  Be the kind of leader you'd want to follow!

10.  Forgive.  Move on.  Grow up.  I have made my peace and still go to Starbucks, although my salary doesn't allow me to be a two-cup-a-day-guest.  More like twice a month.  But, in spite of the disappointments I've faced through Starbucks, I am still a sucker for a cup of Breakfast Blend and a Reduced-Fat Berry Muffin.

(They aren't getting rid of those muffins, too, are they?!)