How to Appreciate Differences
Less than a week ago, I returned from almost three weeks in Mexico. It was the adventure of a lifetime that my sister and I had planned and dreamed of. Four cities in 18 days - a whirlwind of activity, beautiful scenery and incredible memories!
I learned so much and interestingly, a lot of was about myself.
Before I went to Mexico, when I thought of the Mexican people, they were just a nameless, faceless blob of interchangeable humanity. They were the same as each other, but different from me.
They don’t look like me. They don’t dress like me. They don’t respect personal space like I do. Most of them don’t speak my language. I don’t speak but a few words of theirs.
After I got to Mexico, I was humbled to see how far off base my assumptions were. I met people. Individual people.
Some good. Some not so good.
But just people. Like me.
Like the young man in his 20s got off the bus several stops early to make sure my sister and I got where we were going safely.
And the docent at the botanical garden who spent time with us telling about the area flora, just because we asked.
And the employees at the nail salon offered to share their dinner with us.
And yeah, a couple of them were, well, not so nice. A bus driver who left us stranded on top of a mountain. The hawkers in the resort community who didn’t see our humanity at all, just what they perceived as the money in our wallets.
Some of the individuals I met surprised me. We had an incredible conversation with one (of many) cab drivers about John Lennon’s song Imagine and how we are all just one global community.
His compassion and insights were moving and his intelligence impressive.
Mostly, what I learned was pretty simple. No matter where you go, people are just people. Some are wonderful. Some are not. Some are smart. Some not so much. They have families. They go to work. They go to the grocery store. They do something fun on the weekend. They’re no different from us.
They may not look like us or sound like us. But they are us.
So, Property Managers and Owners, the next time you find yourself muttering, “damn Yankees” (or whatever colloquialism is appropriate when referring to the majority of your clientele) when you receive a phone call or an in-office visit, I invite you to step back for a minute. And think.
They may not drive the same car you do. They may dress a little differently. They may speak more loudly or faster than you do.
But they love the beach (or the mountains, or the lake), just like you. They want their kids to have a good vacation, just like you do. They want to be able to use the amenities they paid for. Yeah, just like you would.
When you take away the things that don’t really matter anyway, they’re not much different from you.
They’re just people. Each with their own individual story.
Some of them you’ll like. Some of them you won’t. Much like the people you grew up with. Maybe like a few in your own current social circle. Right?
Like I found out in Mexico, they’re not just a nameless, faceless blob of humanity.
I’ll admit that it was embarrassing to realize I was carrying these assumptions about people. And not giving individuals the respect and the credit they deserve. We’re all fighting a tough battle, every day.
How about you?
Are you holding on to some outdated beliefs about an entire demographic of guests based on interactions with one or two of them or, even worse, media reports?
If so, isn’t it time to let it go and see that group as a collection of individuals?
Some good, some bad, but all different from each other.
Each with their own name, their own face, their own voice.
I hope so. That’s what I’m going to try to do from now on.
Thank you, Mexico, for your hospitality. Thank you for lessons learned.