Joan Moser
January 28, 2011
We love Starbucks. As a matter of fact, we are a bit addicted to it. We were in the same city for a stretch a few weeks ago and found ourselves frequenting the local Starbucks everyday for a few days. On our first visit, we noticed a young employee who was brand new to the job. She slowly and carefully worked the register and then painstakingly wrote our lengthy drink orders on the cup, asking us to repeat it 2 or 3 times so she could get it right. (If you've ever heard our coffee order you know this was no small task.)
Each day we found ourselves cheering this new employee on as she endeavored to become more proficient at her new position. It was slow progress because she seemed almost paralyzed with anxiety that she would do something wrong.
A startling thing happened on day four. The same gal took our order, but the similarity stopped with her physical appearance. No longer shy and reticent, she spoke with confidence, wrote our drink orders down from memory, looked us straight in the eye and flashed a beautiful smile. The furrowed brow of concentration had completely vanished.
Gail and I exchanged glances of wonderment, then noticed that she was training the latest new hire. Patiently and competently, she explained how to make our coffee, showed her where important tools of the trade were kept, and coached her on cash register codes.
It was an astounding change that got us wondering about the students in our own rooms. In particular we thought about new students or students who view themselves as less skilled than others. What if we could help change their perspective of themselves by designing a classroom where the norm was for all students to have the chance at offering help or mentoring of others like the Starbucks Barista? If all it takes is the opportunity to shine, perhaps we'll see our young ones develop confidence and self worth as well.