It doesn’t take a lot to make a difference. It takes presence, commitment and a willingness to be inconvenienced.
By Jennifer R. Farmer
I’m going to tell you something that may surprise you.
You may think you don’t have much to give; you see your offerings and wonder whether you can truly make a difference. But someone needs exactly what you have to offer. You have no idea how your gift can change the trajectory of another person’s life.
This was my revelation after a full circle moment.
Let me paint the picture. I got my first job at 14 through a jobs training program here in Franklin County, Ohio. It was an initiative that offered jobs to low-income youth during the summer months, and sometimes during the school year. This was terrific for my family as we were struggling financially.
My first job through the program was with the Franklin County Department of Jobs and Family Services. My boss was a young Black woman named Tracy; although I can see her face, I regret that I cannot recall her last name. I remember her because she treated me like I was her little sister or even a daughter.
My second boss in that program was Marie Hardin. She ran the Equal Employment Opportunity division of the city of Columbus. She was more than a boss; she became a mentor and close friend. She observed my interests, passions, growth edges and took me under her wing. Eventually, she began picking me up some weekends and taking me to her house. This was a much-needed escape as we lived in a neighborhood devastated by gun violence. It was not uncommon for my family and I to fall to the ground upon hearing gunshots around us. And the first time I witnessed a dead body was in that neighborhood – outside of my house in fact after a man was shot in his head and died on the curb just feet from our porch. I’ll unpack the trauma of gun violence in another essay, but for now, I want to focus on Marie and her mentorship of me and others.
Marie lived in a middle-class Black neighborhood; the kind I didn’t know existed prior to meeting her. She later began taking me to church where her daughter Alice was a pastor. Her daughter started a charm school, and before long, we were going to restaurants learning how to sit at a table and eat properly. It wasn’t just me, often my sister tagged along, and Marie and Alice involved other Black girls. They taught us about etiquette, communicating effectively and what it looked like to thrive. I recall going on family outings with Marie, once traveling to Kentucky with her to see her son and his family. He owned horses and that was fascinating for me; I remember thinking, ‘a real Black cowboy.’ It was cool to travel, see the country, and acres of greenery. Once again, it was a pleasant escape.
Through Marie, I saw a life that I didn’t previously know existed. I now had something to dream about because Marie exposed me to it. She must have intentioned to show me that more was possible because she was always involving me in one thing or another. As an adult with children of my own, I now know how big a risk it was for my mom to allow her 14-year-old daughter to go off with a woman she didn’t know. But I so happy she did. One person can’t fulfill a child’s needs independent of community. Marie became my community.
I loved her because she invested in me without expecting anything in return. Not only did she embrace me, but when I had my first child at 22, she embraced him as well. We went from her picking me up some weekends, to her picking up me and my son. She didn’t shame me for being a young, unwed mom. Instead, she taught me how to be a woman and mother. She was an example. I saw her fully engaged with her family and her church. I learned how to cook watching her – I saw her skin fish, clean it and fry it. I observed her baking pound cakes and other sweet treats. And most of all, I saw her involved in the community she loved so much.
You can imagine my surprise when I became involved in the campaign of a local leader who is connected with Columbus City Council President Shannon Hardin, Marie’s grandson. A leader in his own right, seeing the Council President brought up so many memories of my time with his Marie. I fought back tears when I saw him at a public event. I wanted to share with him how his grandmother impacted my life. It wasn’t just work experience that I acquired – it was life experience. She was the first person who showed me that more was possible.
I offer these observations to remind you – and me – that it doesn’t take a lot to make a difference. It takes presence, commitment and a willingness to be inconvenienced. Marie would often pick me up and then drop me off. She was undoubtedly busy, but never too busy for me or the other girls in whom she invested. The world needs more women like Marie – I hope to be one.