A tale of one man‘s journey from providing a service that people act like is the most important thing in their life, to a providing a service that actually could be the most important thing in their life.

At the age of 19, I walked away from college for a time. To spare you from a long story (which is rare for me), I did so for two major reasons: (1) I did not know what I was supposed to be doing or who I was supposed to be, and (2) university dorms are an expensive place to live simply for a guy to be figuring it out. A mentor of mine once said, “at the intersection of your greatest passion and the worlds greatest need, that is where you should build your life.” My problem at the time was that I didn’t have many passions beyond soccer, and I surely did NOT know the world well enough to know its great needs.

So I got a job. I got many jobs, actually. From age 19 to age 21, I had about as many jobs as some people will have in their entire lives. Spanning from a manual labor temp installing office building windows, to busing tables at a restaurant/nightclub. From digging irrigation ditches for the worst people you ever met, to rebuilding homes for the kindest people you ever met. And from making delicious deli sandwiches for all to enjoy, to a Leatherman-knockoff knife company, packaging and shipping knives for essentially none to enjoy. To round it all off, I was a coach, a teacher, a youth leader, and a law clerk. Just to be clear, I received a paycheck for all of these positions, in case you were wanting to quibble with my definition of “job”. You can imagine what it is like now for me when I apply for a job and they ask, “Please list all previous employers over the last 10 years.” How about, “no.”

I eventually did go back to school, but really only because I felt like if I didn’t, then I never would – not because I had any new focus or plan. After marriage, graduation, and a somewhat brief international excursion, I found myself in sunny Pasadena, California, working at Starbucks as a barista. I’m pretty sure everybody has worked at Starbucks at least once. I’m also pretty sure everybody who has worked at a Starbucks feels like “their” Starbucks was the BUSIEST. STARBUCKS. EVER. but I’m actually sure that mine was the busiest. You see, being a barista was terrible at first, always countless rushes with the lines out the door, needing to perform monotonous tasks at ludicrous speed, all while customers observe you with panic in their eyes needing assurance that their hand-crafted beverage is in good hands.

Incredibly, after about one year, as if some siren-green veil was lifted, I noticed that I knew the people behind those panicked stares. I knew their names. I knew what drinks they ordered, every time – not to brag, but I could see the ‘regulars’ coming as they crossed the street, make their beverage, and hand it to them at the exact moment they arrived at the counter to pay, even during a rush, but I mean, who’s competitive, amirite? But more importantly than how a person wants a latte, I noticed that I knew about their family and children, what they did for fun, what they hated doing, who they worked for and who they worked with, where they traveled to and moved from, and, frustratingly, why they insisted on being a Lakers fan (go Celtics!). Taking it a step further, I even felt an empathy for the stressed-out customers that I had yet to build any relationship with, knowing that they are probably just as interesting as the ones I did know! Being a barista was hard, but serving people was the best. Upon further reflection of this and the rest of my decade-long, grab-bag work history, I realized: (1) people everywhere are awesome, (2) people everywhere are awful, (3) nobody anywhere can drive well, and (4) eventually, most (never say never, right?) people are actually essentially awesome, even if sometimes they are being awful. And I’m not talking about people in a general sense, but rather, a person or an individual, you know? “People” can be lumped together, categorized, compared, conformed, and studied, whereas a “person” is unique, unbounded, creative, and usually reasonable. Persons are awesome.

It seemed that Starbucks helped reveal to me “my greatest passion” – serving people. However, while admittedly important (couldn’t have graduated law school without it), I felt like coffee was not quite the mark of the “world’s greatest need.” Thus, after much counsel and direction from loved ones, I chose to begin building my life in the law, aiming to be an advocate for the same person who needed that extra cup of coffee to work overtime because he has a newborn at home and his spouse’s family medical leave pay is about to expire, or the same person without a home who could only afford to order a cup of water with ice because the food bank wasn’t open yet, or the person who brings her kids to enjoy a Frappuccino because it is her custody weekend, or the young adult applying for a job as a barista because there aren’t many options for ex-convicts in the job market. The coffee is important, true. But, the law affects each of us daily, sometimes with significant impact to our life and future.

My intersection is where my passion for serving a person meets that person’s need to have an advocate in their time of great turmoil. To stand with a person for what is right, to guard their dignity after a mistake or merely an accusation of one, to protect their hard earned property, to fight to make them whole again after being wronged, and to give a voice to the voiceless and disenfranchised. All of these are great needs.