Our lives are shaped by the questions we ask. A single question guided the first half of my life: How can I make a lot of money?
I was raised in a culture of white privilege, where money defined a person. Net worth equated to self-worth. It determined where you lived, who you associated with and the quality of your life regarding material possessions.
I was born in 1942 in Houston, Texas, a racist society. I still remember seeing a water fountain in the Majestic Theatre in downtown Houston with a sign that said, Whites Only. The “N” word was ubiquitous in most people's everyday conversations. I didn’t have any Black friends or any friends that didn’t look like me - white.
We had a Black maid, Louella. She was more like a Nanny. She took care of me and my two brothers. Everyone in the family loved Louella. I never saw her treated badly or disrespectfully by anyone in my family, but Louella always went home at the end of the day. I never knew where her home was; she never had dinner with us or even sat at the table.
My family wasn’t overtly racist, but we were a part of that culture, and I don’t recall any protests or discussions about diversity, equity, and inclusion. I grew up in a culture of uniformity, inequity, and exclusion.
My tribe often dismissed those who served others or the community as tree-huggers, do-gooders, busybodies, or goody-two-shoes, viewing it as a sign of weakness or lack of motivation. The emphasis was on starting businesses, making money, and climbing the success ladder. We were conditioned to believe that anyone could be successful in this country if they truly desired it. Poverty was seen as a choice, and there was little sympathy for those who weren't “willing to help themselves.”
The concept of a non-profit organization wasn't prevalent in my culture; organizations were primarily profit-focused. The mantra was ROI - return on investment. I learned that the return should first benefit me, and once I had enough, I might consider sharing with people I didn’t know . . . maybe. I never defined “enough.”
The question that shaped my life was, “How can I make a lot of money and be somebody?” I never knew I was somebody without money. That question led me on a journey that ended like Jonah in the belly of the whale. A better modern-day metaphor might be Luke Skywalker, Chewbacca, and Princess Lea in the garbage dump of the Death Star, with the walls closing in and a deadly serpent lurking in the murky water.
After years of pursuing money and success and never achieving them, I ruined a marriage and damaged relationships with my sons. I descended into the belly of the whale until, by the grace of God, I was spit back out into reality. As Richard Rohr eloquently said in his book Falling Upward, we cannot be whole unless we have the fall.
My fall woke me up. Yes, I am woke and proud to use that politically charged word. Woke simply means that you know what’s important in life. It’s the opposite of being asleep. Like many people, I was sleepwalking through most of my life. Money is important, but it’s way down on my list now.
My awakening wasn’t instantaneous. I’m still fighting the urge to find ways to make money. You just don’t shut off that powerful conditioning. When you’re awake, the people you need show up in your life. I had a conversation with a remarkable young woman who introduced me to the world of non-profits and community service.
Elizabeth Coffee is the Director of Storytelling for the H.E.B Foundation. She brought me into the Know Your Neighbor cohort, a group of 15 people who meet together for over a year to learn about the cultures, people, and history of the different neighborhoods in San Antonio. I have visited neighborhoods I didn’t even know existed and would never have visited if I had not been part of this cohort. I have developed relationships with people who talk about different things in different ways than the business networking people I used to hang out with. They only talked about ROI - Return on Investment. My new friends talk about a different ROI - Return on Impact. How can they use their gifts to serve other people? That’s one of those questions that can shape our life.
At our second gathering, we collaborated on a manifesto by completing the statement, “I am for a city that . . .” We produced a page full of statements, some funny, others profound. Reading the whole manifesto is an inspiring experience. One of the most remarkable things about this manifesto is that 15 people created a document about what they were FOR. A few statements stand out for me as I read it:
“I am for a city that has a choir of voices, all different, but working in harmony with one another. I am for a city that believes in the inherent worth of each citizen. I am for a city that cares for the unhoused, mentally ill, and addicts. I am for a city that has empathy.”
I understand these words better now, and I care about them differently. I see the beauty of the different cultures in our city, the beauty of family traditions, the beauty of our rituals, and the beauty of the selfless people working to make San Antonio even better. I also see the suffering of homeless people living under bridges, the suffering of people begging for food on the street corners, and the suffering of those living in poverty while others live lives of great wealth.
When you’re no longer in the game, you can see the game more clearly. At 82, I’m no longer in the game of striving for success, wealth, and recognition. I’m viewing my life and the lives of others from the bleachers. I see the beauty and the absurdity of it all. There’s a beauty in non-profit work that I never saw until I became associated with Know Your Neighbor.
I am now associated with the San Antonio Area Foundation, working with a group called SALSA (Successfully Aging and Living in San Antonio). Archimedes said, “Give me a lever long enough and a place to stand, and I can move the world.” Know Your Neighbor has helped me build a lever, and SALSA has given me a place to stand. I may not move the world, but I can make a difference. That will be my ROI now - Return on Impact.
Pat, your post makes me curious about significant events and turning points during your "fall". I also am inspired by your experience based on "I am for a city that..." I currently am doing consulting and training for a city in North Texas and have implemented a ground rule for our sessions "speak about what you're for, not what you're against". I think I'll incorporate the "I am for a city that..." exercise in one of my next sessions with top management. Finally, I'm curious about SALSA, what it does, where it gets its funding, etc.
Ron Nakamoto
7x MEA Alum