Picture this – you are about to give a presentation on networking, you’ve registered at the speaker’s table, and then you are faced with the mix and mingle breakfast for 30 minutes before the session begins. You scour the room for anyone you might know – are grateful for a few friendly faces – and have to make a decision – do you go where you are comfortable or where there are new people to meet? I found myself in this situation last week and I stepped into the second option. Not because I’m 100% comfortable in rooms full of strangers, but because that’s what my dad taught me to do.
On this Father’s Day, I am thinking of my dad and what he’s taught me. While most fathers teach their daughters not to talk to strangers, I’ve spent my life watching my dad make friends with strangers. Today, it’s one of the things I draw on the most when I feel lost in the big city or nostalgic for a place where everyone knows who I am. On days when the suburbs feel like they are closing in, or I’m in yet another long line waiting for coffee, an elevator, or grocery check-out, I think of my dad. I’m reminded that everyone has a story to tell, and are asked far too infrequently to share those stories.
Grandpa and his girls
In a small town, you get to know people. I observed my dad getting to know people since I was a little girl. My dad worked 2nd shift when I was in kindergarten, which meant I was his shadow on the days I wasn’t in school. I was his shot-gun passenger in his pickup truck. There were no strangers on our adventures, whether to the hardware store, grain elevator, post office or bank. Being with my dad taught me that strangers can become acquaintances, who can become friends, who can become lifelong companions. In a digital world, we often feel like we know people, but what we know is only shown through carefully edited photos or cleverly curated words. What I learned from my dad through talking to strangers are things you will never see on Instagram and never fit concisely into a 140 character tweet.
I recall a summer vacation to Maine when we were camping next to another family. In true small town fashion, my dad made sure to introduce himself and our family. While the niceties could have ended there, our families continued the conversation and by the end of the trip were sharing addresses. I believe my parents still exchange Christmas cards with that family today.
Dad – thank you for showing me how to get to know people. I might have been embarrassed at times or I rolled my eyes, but I think of those moments often. When I’m at a networking event and want to hide in the corner or see someone walking toward me and want to turn away, I think to myself, “what would Dave Powell do?” And I usually end up making a friend out of a stranger or make someone else feel at home in a new place.
Small Town Leadership Lesson: It’s okay to talk to strangers. I know because that’s what my dad taught me. The next time you find yourself in a (safe) situation where you can get to know someone around you – perhaps another parent at your child’s school, someone you see at the coffee shop or gym at the same time every day, or the person next to you in the grocery line – take the chance. The only way we can make our world feel smaller and friendlier is by listening to the stories of others.
