On Thursday night, I got to go to a Yankees game with one of my favorite people in the world, my buddy Shane.
We practically walked into the stadium and, surprisingly, were given bobbleheads of George Costanza in honor of Seinfeld. Our seats were on the first row of left field, which led to an incredible view of the game. While I wish I could say it was an epic game and that our beloved Yankees brought home the win, reality was much different. In the end, we only mustered up one run to the Astros’ five in a game that didn’t produce any truly heart-stopping moments.
Even still, we did have some pretty awesome moments throughout the night, and they were found in the people we met on the subway both before and after the game.
On the way to the game, we barely snuck onto a train as the doors closed on me. I’d only ever taken the A Train up to the Bronx, but Maps told us we could get on the C Train, so we did. As I tried to make sense of the directions with Shane, an older, beautifully dressed lady with kind eyes and a soft voice interjected and began explaining the difference between the A and C to us, ultimately assuring us we were in the right place. We continued to engage her in conversation about New York, her profession, places we’d visited, and the world itself. As she spoke, it became increasingly apparent that we were not speaking with just any old person, but one who’d clearly lived an extraordinary life.
We asked question after question as she told us about Namibia’s Skeleton Coast and multi-mile walks between train stops and major European cities. When we asked her about her vocation, she simply said that she lectured about history and that people take pictures of her. When we pressed further, she said, “Just Google Lana Turner and put Harlem next to it.” (You should do that now.)
Within the next 30 seconds, I learned that we were engaged in conversation with Harlem’s Lovely Lana Turner. Educated in New York City Public Schools, The City College of New York, and Sarah Lawrence College, she’s been influencing New York style and literacy for more than half a century.
Before we knew it, the train arrived at our shared stop, where she ensured we knew how to access the D Train to the Stadium. But, before we left each other’s company, she said, “You two have an open invite to my place the next time you come back for a game, that is, if my kitchen ever gets remodeled.” We told her that we planned to take her up on that offer, and I quickly collected her email address and followed up with an introductory message. We wished each other well and went our separate ways, smiling.
Here’s what’s crazy: that was just one of four amazing conversations we had in the subway that night with complete strangers.
I could tell you about Mike from a small town in Utah who was visiting The City with his wife and daughter, but who snuck away to see a game in the rain. He desperately wanted one of the bobbleheads but wasn’t very hopeful about his chances of getting one. Incredibly, he is a retired teacher from the same area of Utah where Shane trained last week. He now owns a golf simulator and is “living the dream.” While we split up at the entrance to the stadium, I saw him in the stadium and he got his bobblehead!
I could also tell you about Chris and Casey, the couple who squeezed onto the train with us on the way back to Manhattan. The four of us seemed to occupy a three-by-three-foot space next to the door. Casey and I were inches from each other and probably would have been closer if our hats weren’t keeping us apart. I looked over at Shane, who’d managed to wedge himself into a slightly less intimate space between the railing and the door. After a few uncomfortable seconds, it only made sense that I speak to the people I was repeatedly and, importantly, involuntarily touching.
We learned that Chris is a singer and aspiring actor whose day job is at the legendary Ellen’s Stardust Diner. He’s from Rochester and lives a few blocks away from my godmother in the HK neighborhood of Manhattan. Soon, he and his dog will be moving in with Casey, his “super corporate girlfriend” who works for Michael Kors and lives in Chelsea. His dog now stops before he goes into her apartment so she can wash his feet. We parted ways after exchanging Instagram information and a reminder to reach out if we ever want to skip the line to get into the diner.
So, what in the world does all this have to do with leadership, education, and greatness?
More than you’d think, I suspect.
Thursday night’s train rides are a great reminder that the world becomes a whole lot more interesting when we become genuinely interested in the people in it. Had we kept our heads down and conversations to ourselves, we still would have had a great time Thursday night, but we would have missed the people and, undoubtedly, the best parts of the night.
I wonder how often we do the same thing in our schools, districts, and communities. I’d argue that we tend to move from meeting to meeting, class to class, and task to task, so focused on what we need to do and where we need to go that we fail to be curious about the people working and living right alongside us.
While leadership demands that we get somewhere, great leadership remembers that people need to come with us on the journey if we’re ever going to feel good when we arrive at our destination.
Look up and see your team. Look around and see your friends. Ask a question or simply be willing to engage in the conversations offered to you. More than anything, let’s be curious about the people we’re privileged to lead and who travel alongside us.
Who knows what we’ll miss if we’re not?
#ChooseToBeGreat
Angelo
CHOOSE TO BE GREAT 