RouseCat

“I was just a neighborhood kid. There was no running water in our house. Or electricity. So in the evenings, when I came home from school, I’d sit out near the road. Across the street there was a hotel where foreigners stayed.  I’d watch them play Frisbee. I’d watch them buy African souvenirs from the street vendors. Occasionally one of them would come speak to me. I was an inquisitive child. I liked to ask questions. So I think they found me entertaining. One evening an American girl came up to me and started asking me questions. Just small talk: ‘What’s your name?’, and things like that.  But then she asked my birthday, and I told her: ‘November 19th.’  ‘No way.’ she replied. ‘That’s my birthday too!’ And after that we became friends. Her name was Talia. She’d come visit me every evening, and bring me chocolate chip cookies.  She’d let me play her Game Boy.  She’d ask about my family.  She’d ask about school.  I was the best student in my third grade class, so I’d show her my report cards, and she’d get so excited.  She was the first person to take me to the beach.  I’d never even seen the ocean before.  We had so much fun together. But one evening she told me that she was going back to America. And I began to cry. She bought us matching necklaces from a street vendor, took one final picture, and promised that she’d write me letters. It was a promise that she kept. The first letter arrived a few weeks after she left. And there were many letters after that. She told her parents all about me. They invited me to America to stay with them for a month. They took me to baseball games, and amusement parks, and shopping trips. It was the best time of my life.  When I returned to Ghana, they paid for all my school fees. They bought my books and clothes. They paid for me to get a degree in engineering. Now I have my own company. The Cassis family turned my life around. I was just some random kid they didn’t know, and they gave me a chance for my dreams to come true. I went back to visit them last year. But this time I didn’t need them to pay my way. I was giving a speech at MIT, because I’d been selected as one of their top innovators under the age of 35.” #quarantinestories

“I like to shop, but I hate going to those fancy stores in midtown. They treat me like I don’t have any money. They’re always telling me prices when I didn’t ask. Either that, or they figure I’m coming in to steal. I went to one store recently, and as soon as I walked in the door, I saw the manager lean in to the clerk and say, ‘Watch her.’ And so this girl starts following me around, real close. She was acting like she wanted to help. If I picked up an item, she’d say: ‘Let me hold onto that for you.’ So I thought to myself: ‘I’ll give you something to hold.’ I walked around that entire store. I went on a real spree. By the time we were finished, she was holding 25 dresses. You could barely see her face. Then I led her up to the cash register and said, ‘You know what? I changed my mind. I think I’ll shop somewhere else.’”

“I turned fifty a couple weeks ago. I’ve lived in the same neighborhood for most of my life, which makes it more challenging because everything around me has changed so dramatically. My best friend and I got our first apartment here when we were twenty years old. We used to play this game where we’d race each other through the streets. We’d take off our shirts and run to the Hudson. First one to get there was King Of The World. There was a vibrancy back then. People would see us running but they’d be OK with it. Because we were young. We were allowed to take up space. You think you’ll act young forever but the rules change. Your audience won’t allow it. We’re programmed to see older people a certain way. You can almost chart it on a graph. You disappear as you age and the world notices you less and less. And it makes you realize how much energy you got from being noticed.“

“These types of shops are notorious for cheating people. A lot of them use fake parts to fix your car. But I take pride in doing things right. And most of my profits go back into the business. I could stash all my money in the bank, but I’d rather use it to create jobs. I support five employees with this shop. I handpicked them myself. All of them were being paid horribly at their old jobs. They were living in horrible conditions. They had families to support but were barely making enough to feed themselves. So I paid them double, gave them shelter, and gave them food. If the work is getting done, they can have as much freedom as they want. I don’t give them metrics. The most important thing is that they’re happy.” (Dhaka, Bangladesh)