We have a painting on our wall in the lobby at Seek that, I imagine, no artist would want to claim and no collector would want to hang; but it is one of my favorite paintings in the world. It is a large canvas that each new Seek employee gets to add his or her “mark” to in their first days in the office, and it is absolutely splattered with thick brushstrokes, multi-colored handprints and bizarre abstract smears; all created by amateur hands. In etched glass just in front of this painting hangs a statement our Purpose: to inspire and cultivate big ideas, to release the full potential in people, and to do good in the world.
It’s that last one that gets me. As a traveling QRC, I am afforded the unique and sacred opportunity to spend time with real people in their real lives…the homes, stores, and places that are most meaningful to them, and to experience the self-transformation that comes with “doing good” in small and very personal ways.
One such experience occurred during a round of in-home research in Mexico City. We were there to speak with women about toilet paper, of all things. Our objective was to hear about their current experience with the product and to learn how the product could be improved to better match their needs. I know this may not sound like fertile ground for deep and meaningful connection but I’m discovering that most real opportunities to do good and to be changed in the process come when you least expect them.
Our team (consisting of clients, Seek members and interpreters) visited several homes during our trip to Mexico City. At each one, we were greeted by women who were excited to have guests in their home, and who proudly showered us with gifts of food and drink—until one of our last days of the trip. During this particular visit, we were greeted at the door by a woman who made no eye contact, who hardly spoke to us, and who made it quite clear that she wished we weren’t even there. The first thing she said was, “Don’t ask me any personal questions today.” We were, of course, a bit uncomfortable and even debated scrapping the interview so as not to make her bad day even worse by potentially hitting on a sore spot. Luckily, we decided to stay.
The interpreter proceeded with the first prepared question, “Tell us a little about your family.” The woman responded, “I live here with my husband and my two…my son.” As she began to talk about her son, she broke down into tears and revealed, “I recently lost one of my sons. He was sick and it happened very quickly.” Instantly, it became clear, this woman was not rude or inconsiderate; she was devastated. We continued the interview with a whole new understanding.
At one point, we asked, “What things in your home are you most proud of?” After a pause, she begrudgingly pointed at a bookcase filled with leather bound medical journals, “I guess my books,” she shrugged. Above the bookcase was a shelf filled with trophies. I prompted the interpreter to ask who they belonged to. “They’re all my husbands,” she said, “He wins at everything he does.” “So, none are yours?” I asked. “Oh no, no one has ever given me an award,” she replied flatly. For some reason, I just couldn’t let this go. I pressed on, “If you were to be given an award, what would it be for?” The woman at first did not want to answer this question, but we waited. Finally, she leaned over, put her hand on mine and said, “I would get an award for being a damn good mom. Through my son’s death, I learned how to truly love and I learned about patience. I feel like I’m an even better mom now on this side of his death.”
It was such a moment of raw and honest emotion… I try to remain relatively objective in interviews, but I could not (and would not) stop the tears from coming. I told her that if I could, I would go out to the car right now and bring in a trophy that said ‘World’s Greatest Mom’ and give it to her because she deserved it. She cried even harder, but it was a different cry. Her face changed, she sat up tall and right before our eyes she morphed into an entirely new person. She went from a beat-down empty shell to a smiling, vibrant woman. All she needed was for someone to say, “You did a good job. You are a great mom.”
Needless to say, the team and I were profoundly touched by this interview. As soon as we got in our car to leave, I knew that we had to do something for this remarkable woman. After some quick phone calls and trips to the Old Town Market, a beautiful hand-carved trophy, with the words ‘World’s Greatest Mom’ was delivered to her home the very next day, along with a note that read, “We have met thousands of mothers all over the world, but you are the one we will always remember.”
This is not a story about a trophy, nor is it about a small act of kindness on the part of our team. Sure, this experience changed that woman’s life for the better, but the impact it had on our entire team was far more profound. It helped us see that even though our objective in a job is to improve products and services; our true goal is to do it in a way that positively affects people’s lives, and, by doing so, changes our own.
When I walk by that painting in our lobby now, I think I get it more. This isn’t only about scheduling opportunities to do good, but looking for opportunities everyday – whether I’m in the field or her in Cincinnati. Doing Good isn’t a mission statement, and it is not a series of charitable donations or events. It’s a lifestyle, a new lens, and an imperative to meet people right where they are, to find some way to lift them up and call out their potential, and to invite them change me for the better.
Lane Byrum, Qualitative Research Consultant
lane@seekresearch.com