Understand The World Your Customer Lives In

The story in the mind of those you serve is more important than the one you have for them. 

In 1996 I was part of a team that flew to Bucharest, Romania to provide aid to orphaned children just 7 years after the bloody revolution that left the beautiful country in a rebuilding phase. What Winston Churchill called the “iron curtain” had fallen and in 1989 an uprising began to spread across Romania in December of that year. Industries were halted, businesses were detrimentally affected, families torn apart by uncertainty and violence pervaded the television airwaves. I still remember seeing the bullet holes in the walls of wrecked buildings outside of our hotel as we walked along the streets of Bucharest.

My team was a group of well intentioned foreigners trying to assist some of the most desperate in a world we only knew about by reading. There were several experiences where we were getting some hands on learning that can't be obtained through books or watching videos.

The Meta-Narrative

On one occasion, we were eating at restaurant in the city after a long day of service in the orphanage. A young boy came to our tables off the street (we were eating in the outdoor patio area), and asked for money. Willing and emotionally driven in our own hearts and minds with our cause, and with good intent, several began to dig into their pockets just before the management of the restaurant ran the child off and warned us against giving any money to him. The manager pointed to the man across the street in the shadows with his arms crossed leaning back against a wall. Apparently, men like this exploited these street kids to squeeze as much money from foreign do-gooders without any real aid going to the kids. We had no idea. There were so many families, from single moms to kids all alone on the streets that we simply thought everyone was benefited by our hand outs. There was a meta-narrative we were quickly coming face to face with.

The Story That Matters Most

The most powerful memory I have is the one when we all went to a public square frequented by young homeless children that lived in the sewers. The sewers were warmer at night, so that was their home. They came to this square because this is where the wealthy would walk as they went to high end restaurants like McDonalds. With shaved heads to avoid lice, these kids often sniffed glue in reused paper bags to dull their senses and constant hunger pangs. 

Our goal was simple: equipped with a large duffle bag of donated clothing and bags of lunch, we would attract as many children and give them food and clothing. In a shocking incident, a local man literally ripped off a shirt from a child we had given one to because he didn’t like the homeless street kids! In his rant, he proclaimed himself as a proud man. He didn’t like that foreigners were coming into his country as though they needed any help. He certainly didn’t want to be known as a part of a nation that was weak or filled with thousands of needy children. That was his story.

The tensions were building in the square as more and more kids crawled out of the sewers in midday. We had to protect the duffle bag from what became an onslaught and began to keep the woman volunteers close within our circle. 

When A Shirt Means More Than A Meal

That’s when it happened. A moment that would silence every single one of us to quiet tears. One little boy, couldn’t have been older than 13 years old, began asking if we had a shirt his size. He was wearing a dirty tank-top that was tied in knots at both shoulders because of being ripped. None of the shirts in our duffle bag fit his small frame. Our translators tried in vain to explain we would come back and look for him to give a shirt that would fit. We began to head away from the crowd and into the subway. He followed us, begging. Crying out for a shirt. He was relentless and it began to make many of the volunteers uncomfortable and embarrassed because he was pleading out so loudly.

As we boarded the train, our translator reiterated that we’d make an attempt to return in the following days but at least he had received a bag of lunch. The boy slammed the bag of lunch on the ground spilling out all of the food, collapsed onto his knees, weeping with his head down. The doors of the subway train seemed to close slowly. As cry to himself on platform, our train took off. Our whole team was in shocked silence, clean shirts and all.

The Punchline

In any interaction there are at least two stories, the one inside your head and the one inside theirs. All interactions may not seem as meaningful or emotionally charged as the ones I’ve described. Especially in business. Not everyone is trying to help others in such a volatile or war-torn emotional context. Yet from the experience at the restaurant with the young boy that was exploited by a shadowy figure, to the proud man that showed disregard for kids left to the harsh streets, to the child that only wanted a clean shirt, each of them have a story in them that is their reality. Yours or my story may not matter at all to them. 

The punchline is crystal clear: It’s essential that we seek to understand the world of those whom we seek to serve. It's where they live and where we are only visitors. Whoever your “customer” is and whatever your business strategy, the people behind the company you approach are what matters most. Paying close attention to them, listening very well to what they say, noticing the details, picking up on hints and even on what they leave unspoken can be critical.

There may be some value in a bag of lunch, yet deep down, what may mean the world to them is a clean shirt. Be genuinely interested and unafraid to get your hands really dirty to understand the story in their mind. It’s more important than the one you may have for them.