Growing Up Global

One local encounter that changed my life was at the local “do-all” store in Greve. My job was to get 3 papers copied 33 times in the shop in what would be classified as the Italian version of a strip mall. Everywhere there were pens, notebooks, paper clips, markers, and anything else needed to supply a small army of offices. My Italian, of course, was non-existent and my accent proved to be an even bigger draw for quizzical looks from Tuscans. Not to say that I did not try to learn a few words or phrases, but when the pressure came to pass I would mix up almost everything. And numbers? Well, I didn’t know what 33 x 3 was when I received a very quizzical look from the shopkeeper let alone how to say it in Italian. On top of all this each copy was 12 Euro cents. Counting on your fingers and toes yet?

This is what truly kick started my life as an embrace to embarrassment. Bumbling about and looking from shopkeeper to machine I was frustrated and confused to get my words together. He kept holding up each sheet to be copied and mimicking the motions to copy. Wait! My turn to mimic to the shopkeeper that two needed to be back-to-back and the other one also copied 33 times. (Your turn. Do that motion without saying anything. It is seriously frustrating.)

By then a few locals had ventured into the shop to buy stamps and other various items. Feeling ashamed and like a cliché American with no respect for local customs I tried my best to show that I was trying despite feeling that every eye in the store was positioned on me.

Finally, (too long) I wrote out the numbers on a piece of paper and mimicked until my arms hurt. I paid the shopkeeper and left running back up through the trees and past the ever-so trustful Italian post office to deliver the papers.

To this day I do not forget that moment. I had almost given up before both the shopkeeper’s and my efforts clicked. My boss’ motto was always to “Check, recheck, then check again” and I did that personally in every situation after that. As each day started I would look at myself, check, recheck, and check myself again by saying, “You’re Leigh Wright. You’ve got this.” And visualize how ridiculous I must have looked flailing my arms about in a Tuscan pen shop. After that I knew I had it and realized that with a lot of effort and trust in my abilities the world was going to be mine to walk in, enjoy, and flourish.