## Chapter 5

### Chapter Four: The Blessing of Humility

> True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. > > —C.S. Lewis

You meet a lot of people at the airport. Business travelers, families, dreamers, wanderers. But every so often, someone sits in the chair who brings a different kind of energy. It’s not because of who they are, but because of how they carry themselves.

That’s how it was with Chief Willie.

He came by one afternoon, calm and grounded in a way that quieted the space around him. In a place like an international airport, that’s really saying something. He didn’t announce who he was. We were halfway through a casual conversation before I realized I was shining the shoes of a Chief. There’s something about people who lead whole communities; they don’t have to say much for you to feel it. A thread of presence. When he told me his name, I recognized it. I’d seen it in the news, in articles about his work with his Nation. But he spoke with no trace of pride or self-importance. In fact, if I hadn’t asked, I might never have known.

That was the first time I met him.

The second time he came through, I worked up the courage to ask him more about his experiences. By this time I had learned more about who he was and what he’d done, and it was impressive.

I was surprised that he didn’t really want to talk about himself. Instead, he asked about me and what my life had been like. So I did tell him about myself, but I admit, I didn’t let up. I told him that my business is people, and that I really wanted to know more about him. I don’t know where I got the nerve, but I had this on my mind, so I asked him about trauma.

When I talk to people, I always try to understand, like, where’s the trauma? Maybe it’s me, or my generation, but trauma is something I hear about and experience and I think, oh my God, everybody must be suffering with trauma. I remember asking him, where is that? Where is your trauma?

He said, well, we’ve been suffering for so long. In his life, he said, he had to suffer so much. He’d had to grind so much that only once the suffering was over could he ask himself, does the next generation feel the trauma of the suffering?

And that’s something to really think about.

There are hard times, but you just beat through it. That’s special, because they were in fight or flight for so long that they had no time to think about it in the moment. To heal, or even to start to heal, is actually a privilege. It takes time and clear space and air in our lungs.

That hit home. I’ve learned, in my own smaller way, that showing up day after day at the stand, through the noise and the quiet, is its own kind of healing. And that healing means seeing myself as human and flawed. I can be proud that I got through something and still know that it’s going to stick with me for a long time. So humility isn’t about lowering yourself; it’s about remembering that you’re part of something larger than your own experiences and your own trauma.

What I loved most about Chief Willie was his calm confidence. He had the kind of presence that didn’t need to prove itself. There was no ego, no need to dominate the space. He listened more than he spoke. When he did speak, it was thoughtful and intentional. I want to be like that. I hope I am like that with my customers. A good listener. Thoughtful and intentional.

When he left, he thanked me. A simple, genuine thank-you, not for the shine, but for the conversation. This conversation taught me a lot about humility. At the end of the day, it’s gratitude. That’s what roots us to our humanity. It’s the ability to recognize the gift in every exchange, no matter how small.

That moment reminded me why this business works. It’s not just the polish or the shine. It’s because every person who sits in the chair brings something you can learn from if you’re willing to listen.

The blessing of humility is about seeing more in others. I don’t have to put myself aside, necessarily, to see more in others. The blessing of humility is understanding that every role, from a Chief to a shoeshiner, carries the same sacred thread of service. And that’s the quiet truth I carry with me every day: we don’t lift people by standing above them. We lift them by walking beside them.