This box arrived at our home. We did nothing to it to make it look worse. This is exactly what we found on our doorstep.
Thankfully, its contents were fine.
But look at this box. Just imagine how many people along the way had to look at this box and think, “Yeah, that’s fine. Moving on.”
Elysha and I often talk about how there are two kinds of people in this world:
Those who are doing a job, and those who are trying like hell to do a job exceptionally well.
This box is a perfect example of doing a job. Yes, this box did its job. It served its purpose. The task was accomplished. It wasn’t done with with excellence or precision, but the goals of the task were met.
But was it done well?
When our kids were little and a pandemic didn’t prevent us from painting the town, Elysha and I would hire babysitters quite often. Most of our babysitters were outstanding. They did their job exceptionally well. But occasionally we’d hire a babysitter and return home to find dirty dishes in the sink, toys on the floor, cat bowls overturned, counters in need of cleansing, jackets in need of hanging, etc.
Mind you:
It wasn’t the job of the babysitter to clean up. They kept our children safe and happy, which is what the job required. We paid them for doing their job and were happy to do so. But when Elysha and I were babysitting as teenagers, we would both try like hell to make the house look great after the children went to bed. We’d wash the dishes. Tidy up. Do anything we could to make the parents a little happier when they arrived home.
We wanted to do a great job, not because it meant that we’d earn more money or even get called again for another job. If those things happened, great. But we simply wanted to do a good job. We wanted our customers to be happy. We wanted to be known for excellence.
This is probably why I was promoted to manager of a McDonald’s restaurant at the age of 17 while still in high school. While many of my fellow workers were doing the job, getting through their shifts by doing what was asked, I was always trying to do the best job possible, even if that meant working like hell at a low paying, fast food job.
Always going the extra mile. Looking for spots where I might shine. Ensuring that my managers were always pleased with my work.
I wasn’t looking for a promotion. Honestly, I never imagined that I might be considered a viable candidate for running a store. I was still in high school,. yet I was soon scheduling employees. managing food and labor costs, calculating profit and loss statements, placing orders, hiring and firing, and supervising grown-ass adults.
All before I could legally vote.
But I was also trying my absolute best. Attempting to bring excellence to all that I did, even if what I doing wasn’t exactly what I wanted to be doing.
It’s a philosophy I try desperately to instill in my children and my students. Regardless of the subject or the assignment, try your damnedest to do it exceptionally well. Seek to impress. Rise to the top. Let people know that you are someone who believes in doing your best every day without exception.
This box represents anything but excellence. This box is the perfect symbol of getting the job done.
I don’t begrudge anyone for doing the minimum. I don’t look down upon those who do what is required and collect a paycheck. In many ways, this approach to life makes a lot of sense, and I’m always in favor of cutting the foolish corners in order to devote more time to the most important things.
But I also think a work ethic isn’t something that can be turned off and on depending upon the context. I think that striving for excellence is something you either do or don’t do. Choosing excellence isn’t easy, but done often enough, long enough, and it becomes a habit.
It becomes who you are.
You either commit yourself to your best work at all times or you don’t.
This box did not do its best work. It got the job done, but it will never be anything but a box.
Even my box-loving son, Charlie, found no use for it, and that is saying a lot.
