Imagine you’re in a social setting, getting to know a person, or a couple, etc. There’s small talk, friendly banter about common topics such as weather, or maybe each other’s kids if they’re present. But inevitably, the men will ask each other, “So, what do you do?” by which they mean, What do you do for a living?
I hate this question.
I hate it, not because I’m ashamed of the answer, but rather of the way it tends to generalize a person’s identity. I’d rather ask them anything else, and I do. What are you passionate about? How do you like to spend your free time? What’s your story? These kinds of questions dig deeper, telling me something I’d otherwise never know, that maybe few people do.
What do you do?
For the past 21 years, I’ve had the same answer: I work at Costco. It’s not who I am, it’s what I do for a living.
Costco has been good to us. Through babies, adoptions, sickness, birthdays, family emergencies, you name it; they’ve had our backs. I’ve worked hard to repay the investment they’ve made in me, but that work ends today. We’re moving on.
Over those years I’ve come away with principles on an array of topics — marketing, management, service, driving in blizzards, stress reduction, and so on. But perhaps the most important takeaway is this: It’s not the work, but the people that matter.
Over the years, I’ve had the privilege to meet, teach, mentor and learn from some pretty amazing people. Some of my employees I’ve loved like brothers, some like a parent, some like my own kids.
I’ve gotten desperate texts early in the morning from some as they went through tragedy. They’ve teased me after every Kansas City Chiefs’ loss. I’ve held them as they cried; seen them bury children, parents, and siblings; watched them fall in love, get married, have children, and sometimes, go through divorce. I’ve seen them go to war, and endure long separations from their loved ones. I’ve seen them fight disease, and sometimes die from it. I’ve broken up fights, prayed with them, seen some go to prison and fall to addiction. I’ve watched them sacrifice time and money to help others in need, and often become leaders in their own right. They are my family — several hundred strong — and I’m honored to have been fortunate enough to be a part of their lives for a season.
Through it all, I’ve strived to be there for them, to help them with the things that matter, to be a friend. In the years to come, I hope they will continue to call on me whenever they need someone in their corner.
Because that’s what I do.