Trophies
Cleaning out my garage, I was confronted by my old barista competition trophies. (yes, barista competitions are a real thing) Winning these trophies meant the world to me at the time, and now they’re this annoying mess I shuffle around every time I clean because I don’t want to display them, but I can’t bring myself to throw them away.
I used to think I kept them because I was proud of the achievements, which I am, but I think more so they're a reminder. They remind me that I can do new things. They remind me that I can reinvent myself. And they remind me of the people who helped me do so.
They remind me of Tony who introduced me to a slice of the industry I didn’t even know existed. (in a pre-social media world, this was literally life-changing)
They remind me of Andy who let me use his practice space and gave me coffee to compete with even though I didn’t know him well and had no track record.
They remind me of Eileen who hired and supported a quirky small-town kid who didn’t quite fit in.
They remind me of Ryan and Gabe who pulled all-nighters helping me prepare while Drew kept me on my toes.
They remind me of Duane giving me his number and meeting me at the Annex to cup coffee with me for some reason that I still can’t begin to understand.
The list goes on.
You probably don’t know any of these people and that doesn’t matter—what matters is what my dusty trophy shelf showed me.
We all have something special inside us, and while we have to put in the work to unlock our gifts, there are people out there who can help us be more of who we are than we ever could be alone.
There are millions of ways to make a contribution and impact the lives of others. Most of them don't come with trophies. Career opportunities for a superstar barista are limited, but helpers will always be in high demand.
The real trophies are our experiences. The most important thing to us in one season of life can be an afterthought in another. Nobody cares that I have a useless pile of wood and steel proving that I can make coffee really well, but the experiences they represent are priceless.