Juanita and Broom Hilda

Last week, I found myself at a large networking event organized by my friend Juanita and a few top-notch guest speakers. Though I didn’t get a speaking slot—joking, but not really—I was happy to help Juanita set up and tear down each day. Between networking with CEOs and business owners from around the world, I spent time sitting with Juanita, sharing laughs and engaging with the attendees. It was refreshing to be out of the house, connecting with new faces, and, of course, basking in the warm atmosphere of mutual respect and ambition that filled the room.

Throughout the event, there was a woman who worked tirelessly behind the scenes. Let’s call her the hotel staffer, though I’m not exactly sure of her official title. She was there, sweeping the floors, collecting dirty dishes, vacuuming, and wiping down tables—doing all the necessary but often thankless tasks that kept the event running smoothly. Every time I saw her, I offered a hand, placing dishes and glasses into the gray bucket she carried. It didn’t matter that I was an invited guest, or that Juanita found my company a necessary comic relief—I saw a person working hard, and I wanted to help.

Juanita, often speaking to the woman in her native tongue, would translate their exchanges for me, though sometimes she’d leave me guessing, much to our amusement. But something was stirring in me. Two days before the event ended, I decided to learn how to say, “Good morning, my friend, how are you today? Thank you for all you’ve done this week to keep this event moving forward,” in her language. I practiced, and when the moment came, I delivered my carefully rehearsed phrase with a smile.

Her response? “I am not your friend.”

Thinking it was playful banter, I quipped, “Are you Juanita’s friend?”

“Yes,” she said.

My eyes scanned the room, trying to absorb the sting of the exchange. “So, you’re just not my friend?”

“Yes.”

With that, she lifted her head, turned her back, and walked away.

I stood there, feeling the burn. I looked at Juanita, who witnessed the entire exchange. “Did you just see that?” I asked.

“Yes, but let it go,” she said. “She doesn’t know your résumé.”

That hit me hard. I hadn’t thought about my résumé or LinkedIn profile once during our interactions. I had treated her with respect every single day because that’s what decent human beings do. We’re all people deserving of recognition, regardless of our position in life.

This reminded me of the time Oprah Winfrey walked into a high-end store in Italy, dressed down and without her usual glam. The salesperson snubbed her, refusing to show her a bag she wanted until they realized who she was. It wasn’t until Oprah’s identity was revealed that the salesperson suddenly became eager to assist.

Here’s the thing: true character is revealed in how we treat those we believe can’t do anything for us. It’s not about the titles, the résumés, or the LinkedIn connections. It’s about basic human decency. I was raised to respect everyone, regardless of their station in life.

As a C-level executive, business owner, and consultant, there have been times when I’ve stepped in to cover the receptionist’s desk, greeting people as they walked in. The receptionist I hired, Kelly, would often give me a heads-up about a candidate’s demeanor before their official interview even began. A simple “yes” or “no” from her, based on how they treated her when they walked in, could sway the decision. It wasn’t about the résumé; it was about the respect they showed her—the first person they encountered.

So why was I upset about the encounter with the hotel staffer? Because I was snubbed by someone I had no reason to be kind to, yet I was. My upbringing taught me to treat people with dignity, respect, and honor until they show me they are unworthy. But this incident wasn’t about a breach of my ego—it was a stark reminder that respect should never be contingent on who we are or what we’ve accomplished.

No, I didn’t report her to her bosses, bosses’ bosses, boss. That’s not the point. The point is that in a world where so much value is placed on what we do and who we know, it’s vital to remember that our true worth lies in how we treat others. The essence of a good human being is found in the respect we give, especially when there’s nothing to gain in return.

Thanks for reading,

William Rochelle, but you can call me Bill

#Respect #HumanDignity #TrueCharacter #Leadership #LifeLe