She still reads to Nadia in a different language every night: Monday is French, Wednesday is Japanese, Friday is Portuguese. But now, sometimes Nadia reads back.
Tomorrow, you're going to walk past someone: a cashier, a janitor, a barista, a server. Someone whose name you'll never ask and whose story you'll never hear. But they have one.
They might speak four languages. They might write poetry at 2:00 in the morning. They might be holding a dream together with a binder clip and a prayer.
So, here's what I'm asking: don't ask them what they do; ask them what they're good at. You'd be amazed what people will tell you if you ask like you actually want to know.
And if you're in a position to do more, hire the person without the degree. Fund the library that stays open late. Build the internship that doesn't require a resume from a school that costs $60,000 a year.
Talent doesn't have a zip code. It has a heartbeat.
Monique Carter is fictional. The people she represents are not. And the world is full of Moniques. Start asking. Start listening. Start seeing.
Can I be real with you for a second?
We never ask. That's the problem.
We look at someone, their uniform, their job, their skill, and we think we already know the answer. So, we never ask the question: What can you do? What do you know? What's inside you? We skip it every time because we've already decided. And that's not their loss; that's ours.
Every person you walk past without asking, that's a door you choose to keep closed. And you have no idea whatsoever what's on the other side: maybe nothing, but maybe everything. You never know because you never ask.
And here's what really gets me: the people who assume the most are always the ones who lose the most, always. Because when you decide someone is nothing, you stop paying attention. And while you're not paying attention, they are growing, they are learning, they are becoming something you never saw coming. And by the time you realize it, it's too late: the deal is gone, the moment is gone, and you're sitting there wondering what happened.
So, tomorrow, ask someone the real question—not "How are you?", but something real:
"What are you good at?"
You might be standing next to someone extraordinary and not even know it. Talent doesn't have a dress code. Start asking, start listening, start seeing.