Grace's Place - by Bob Coulter Chapter One

This week in People Solutions I would like to introduce you to Chapter One of his first book called Grace's Place. It's a story of a young lady who has just graduated from college and is launching into her career. Well actually, she has no idea what she is doing or wants to do with her life, and she is about to take on a summer job that will change her view of work and serving others forever. For those of you who lead others, I think you will relate with the unique opportunites you hold in influencing the futures of your employees. As a parent, you might begin to see the possible significance of your reactions to the plans your children lay out. For those who are striving to improve your career, there may just be a few tips you can apply to make your work more fulfilling. If you would like to see more, email our author, bob@jphorizons.com
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Grace decided that now was the time to break the news to her parents. It was spring break of her junior year in college and she was going to spill the beans about her upcoming plans right before dinner. "Mom, Dad, this summer I have decided to stay with Kristen and get a job at one of the resorts at the beach."
Her mother sat down to gather her thoughts before speaking and began calculating the number of miles that she would have to travel. "That old car of yours sure can't make that type of a trip."
Dad simply shook his head with that look she knew so well. "Would you let us know when you decide to grow up and plan to get serious about your life? That's when I'll be ready to talk."
Grace slammed her chair into the table and stormed out of the room, "Maybe if you took the time to listen, you would understand me and my plans."
After about an hour in separate parts of the house, Grace decided to come back into the kitchen.
Mom, ever the peacemaker, began, "Let's sit down and work this out together over some lasagna. Grace, what do you really want to accomplish this summer?"




Grace tried to choose her words carefully. "I want to make money and have some fun. It will not cost me anything to stay at Kristen's house, and I'll make enough at the resort to take care of all my spending money needs for my senior year. Dad, I can see the disgusted look on your face. Don't you remember what its like to be 21?"
Without hesitation, he started, "I remember that I have spent over $40,000 so far on your college education. I remember that the last two summers you have hung out at the pool as a lifeguard. I also remember that my company's college recruiters have said over and over again that without practical experience we don't hire kids out of college."
Before Grace could speak, her mom tempered what would be coming next. "Okay, both of you try to hold on for a minute. Grace, please tell us why you think this is a good idea. Just stay with the reasons that make sense to you. Travis, let her finish and then you'll get your chance to share what you see."


Grace summoned some of her original enthusiasm and went on, "I'm sorry that I just blurted this out and ran out on you earlier. I've given this a lot of thought and believe that it makes sense. Working in the resort, I have a chance to make a lot of money this summer. I will make enough to pay back my debt and get some spending money for next year. Second, I have never lived and worked without the structure you two provide. This gives me a chance to live independently without having a lot of expense. Finally, with Kristen graduating in a few weeks, this will be our last chance to spend time together before she goes to California for graduate school."
Somehow the tension in the room that had taken them all to the breaking point began to subside. Travis, realizing that he had over reacted, said, "I'm sorry that I bit your head off honey. I can understand why you want to do this, but I want to be sure that you understand how competitive it is out there and how you need to get yourself ready. I know that the business school at UT has a good reputation, but there are tons of kids that come out of school with marketing degrees each spring. You have to demonstrate to your future employer why you will be a great employee. I can't possibly see how hanging around at the beach will prepare you for your career or add to your resume. Alison, what do you think about all of this?"
Alison once again assumed her role as the objective listener. "My first concern is that your car will not make it 700 miles to Jacksonville," she said looking at Grace. "Second, I have never met Kristen's parents, and I don't like the idea of you staying with strangers. Grace, it is very important at 21 to understand the natural consequences of your actions. How you spend your summers will have an impact on what happens down the road in your life."


"I hear what you both are saying," Grace began. "I saw how tough it was for the kids that got out of school last spring. It scares me because I see how it is and I don't know what I want to do. I am searching for who I am and who I want to be. This is going to sound strange, but Kristen has said that she found her future working in the café at the Oceanside Resort. She talks all the time about this dining room supervisor that has changed her entire outlook on life. She said that Mr. Peyton has helped her to see why little things are important and how those little things are the route to helping us achieve big things." Grace stopped and then just held her breath.
Her dad spoke first. "Honey, it sounds like you have thought this through pretty well. I can't see how this type of job will help you to prepare for a career in sales or marketing, but if it helps you find yourself, maybe it is worth a try. I do expect you to repay us for the money we fronted you. It works for me if you make an agreement about how much cash you will apply to your senior year. Alison, where do you stand on this?"
Alison smiled, "As long as your dad and I can follow you to Jacksonville to be sure that car makes the trip and we can get to meet Kristen's parents, you have me sold. You know we want the best for you and will do anything that we can to help. If this Mr. Peyton turns out to be as good as you hear, maybe you should try to capture what he does in writing."


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Summer arrived full of possibilities and all the details were worked out. Grace was spending her first night at Kristen's house and was reviewing her new hire paperwork from the resort when a couple of things caught her attention. The form indicated that she would be assigned to work four breakfast shifts each week, and that she would be scheduled to report to the hotel at 5:30 a.m. for those shifts. Her mind started to race. This sure wasn't what she thought it was going to be. Maybe her Dad was right and this was another one of her ideas that doesn't make a lot of sense. At that time, Kristen came into the room to check on Grace. She hoped that Kristen could help her understand the expectations and help her keep her enthusiasm for this new job.
"Kristen, this can't be right. It says that we have to work four breakfast shifts a week. I know that all the real money is made at dinner, and you know that I have a deal with my dad. If we are working all these day shifts, we'll never get to the beach. Do you have some pull so that we can move to working more nights?"


Kristen smiled at Grace with wisdom beyond her years. "Hey girl, you need to go into this with an open mind and not get caught up in what shifts you work. I can guarantee you that after spending the summer with the coach, your life will be changed."
Grace let out an exasperated laugh. "Coach? What in the world are you talking about?"
Kristen shrugged in a way that made it evident Grace didn't have the whole picture. "I'm sorry. That's what we all call Mr. Peyton. You won't see him as a supervisor or boss, I promise. Everyone that works with him sees him as someone that helps them understand the game and how they can improve themselves in the game," Kristen said.
Grace, becoming more agitated, said, "Game. What game are you talking about?"



Kristen smiled and calmly answered, "I can see that this is something that you will have to experience for yourself. I don't really have the ability to explain it to you, but I am talking about the game of life. That might sound strange and sort of corny, but you have an opportunity to have your whole thought process and world changed as a result of this work experience. You have to be patient and really go into this with an open mind. Not everyone that goes to work with Mr. Peyton has a life-changing experience, but everyone that goes into the relationship open and ready to learn is impacted in some way. Trust me on this, Grace. If you can master the role of breakfast server, you will make more money than you expected to make this summer. The local customers and resort guests leave great tips if they receive great service. I have seen servers walk away from working breakfast and lunch and pull down $150. Don't worry about the beach. Remember, we get off work at 2:00. We can change in the locker room and get four hours of rays. This will force us to pace ourselves and not get too much sun. Most importantly, the hot guys that work on the Golf Course seem to find their way to the ocean around 4:00. I don't think that your social schedule will suffer. Your challenge will be to get to bed at a decent time since we get such an early start..."

Adolescence is a terrible thing.

Who's fooling who?

Written by Ian Robinson From Turf and Recreation

Adolescence is a terrible thing. Not for me, of course. As a teenager, I was a lovely and wonderful young man of impeccable manners and demeanour. A positive delight to be around. No shoulder-length hair and a copy of Mao’s Little Red Book in the hip pocket of my ratty and patched jeans. No chip on my shoulder the size and shape of a redwood. Nossiree, Bob. Not me. And that smell in my room was incense, I swear. Really. Incense. At least that’s the way I’m choosing to remember it. But because my son is 13 now, I am reminded of the sad reality that teenagers gradually go through changes that are indistinguishable from insanity. This is not as bad as it seems. It’s not like kids are such a treat to start with. The company of very small children is, I have always maintained, similar to hanging out with drunken midgets. Little kids are awesome because they’re so reckless. If you don’t believe me, just hand a two-year-old a fork and turn them loose in a room with uncovered electrical outlets. They’re short and they’re fearless. “Hey! There’s some dirt! I’ve never seen dirt like that before! Let’s roll in it and eat some!” And then there’s this beautiful period—say between the ages of 10 and the onset of puberty—where they seem to sober up and get sane. It’s like they went into rehab or something and instead of dozing through all the sessions like Lindsay Lohan, they paid attention, took notes, and aced the final exam. You can have real conversations with them on any number of topics, although discussions of how to survive the coming zombie apocalypse resurface with disturbing frequency. They have mastered the concept of cause and effect (as in, if I roll in dirt I’ll get itchy and if I eat it I’ll puke), and can actually follow simple instructions.  They still have that sense of wonder about the discovery of an amazing world, but the kamikaze impulse goes away. And then, just as you get used to them acting like human beings instead of howler monkeys with an unlimited supply of cocaine…puberty. The kamikaze instinct returns—in spades—but the worst thing about puberty is they start telling you the truth about things. Well, not about all things. I mean, I’m still sticking to the incense story all these many years later. But they start telling you the truth about their pre-pubescent years because they’ve figured out—accurately as it turns out—that nobody’s going to punish them for something they did when they were seven. But that’s not the worst of their revelations. This past Christmas, I got to reminiscing—OK, bragging—about how I was probably the best Christmas-season father ever, given that I had maintained my children’s faith in Santa years longer than the kids of my contemporaries. I was the dad who made the effort. I dipped my winter Sorels in fireplace ash and then stomped to the Christmas tree and back to leave footprints…proof positive that Santa had come and gone. We live within a stone’s throw of Canada’s largest urban park, and it is populated by deer and coyote and, in the summertime, bear. On Christmas Eve, I would venture into the park where the deer yarded up, and fill a small, plastic grocery bag with frozen deer crap. I would return home with it and leave a pile of it on the rug in front of the table where we left cookies for Santa and carrots for Rudolph. On Christmas morning, I’d pretend to be annoyed by those “damned reindeer crapping all over the carpet.” As I was bragging, my 13-year-old looked at me. Pityingly. If you’ve got a 13-year-old you’ve seen that look before. If you’ve got a 16-year-old, you see it every day. “What?” I said. Dreading the answer. Turns out he figured out there was no Santa when he was five. He’d asked me how many households there were in the city in which we live. I told him and he grabbed some crayons and some paper and did the math. Figured out that by budgeting five minutes to deliver per home, and even assuming zero travel time between houses, which was as much magic as he was willing to allow into the equation…there was no freaking way. He took his calculations to his sister, who was herself 13 at the time. She advised him to keep his conclusions to himself. “You believe in Santa, you get more presents,” she said. “Besides, Dad likes going down to the park on Christmas Eve to get the deer poop.” “You started humouring me like a senile relative when you were five,” I said to him after he told me all this. “Yep.” “What else are you keeping from me?” “Nuthin.” “Yeah. Right,” I said. “And by the way, what’s that smell in your room?” “Incense.” I’m going to hate the next five years or so. www.hamiltonturfking.ca www.turfking.ca