The Perfect Song Blog

I discovered fairly quickly that the wheelchairs were not provided by Jet Blue.  This explained why the wheelchair attendant at JFK was wiling to leave the arrival gate and wheel my step-mother an eighth of a mile to the departure gate.  I tipped  her, she thanked me and disappeared into the crowd.  When we arrived at  the San Diego  airport a young African man with  a wheelchair was waiting.  He was quiet and very polite.  My wife and her mother made a stop at the women’s room.
“Where are you from? ” I asked.
“I came here from Kenya last year.”  After more questions I found out he followed his mother here, that he wanted to attend college to become a nurse and return to Kenya to  help his people.   “Do you work for Jet Blue?” I asked.
“No.  I work for a company that supplies wheelchairs and people like myself.  I don’t make much money, you know, my salary and tips.”  When my wife and her mom returned, we took the elevator  downstairs  and he patiently waited and helped my wife find our bags while I stayed with our computers and mother-in-law. I left him a large tipiand wished him my best. The taxi driver was also from Africa, here to make money, attend college and live a good life  without violence. 
I few  days later, on our way back from Encinada I noticed a text about American politics  on the console.  “Are you  a student?”
The young driver smiled.  “Post graduate.  I’m from Kenya..  I was in politics but with all the corruption I had to leave for my safety.  Now I am going return to do rape counseling and perhaps go back into politics where I can better help my people.”  We had a long talk about politics, and how American, Canadian and Chinese interests in Africa are changing his country for the better.
I struck up conversations all week with taxi drivers, grocery store packers and waiters. 
I realized that there is an entire underground of unseen people, many of whom are educated.  Some of them are more  worldly than I’ll ever be.
To them the American Dream not a weary cliche but something that is real, alive and dynamic.  They’re pursing it, living it, taking advantage of it in a positive, productive way.  Many of them are taking the Dream  and the  American  Experience back to  their countries.
I called our admissions director and told him if this country would ever get over its  hangups about immigrants there’s  a whole new population of students to  recruit.  Students who  are serious about life, who have goals and dreams.  People who have seen horrors in their country and are determined  to go back and make a difference.   
If higher ed truly cares about making a difference in an individual’s s life, in American society and in countries around the world, we have the opportunity.  Young people full of ambition and hope are all around us. 
All we have to do is recognize them and share what higher ed has to offer.

Note: This is first post in a series that two weeks ago I could not even imagine writing.  It’s all about adventure, change and what it means to be really alive.  Oh, and there’s a bit about marketing, too).

After two years of living with us on the East Coast, my wife’s mother decided she’d like to go back home to Coronado, CA  My wife wanted  to drive.  We had done that before with me driving her step-father who nearly died on the road in New Mexico, and Linda driving her mother.  (for details see this series of blogs).  We found that America on the road is not handicap accessible.  People are friendly and helpful but buildings and services  aren’t.
I decided  on this trip to study marketing where ever I could.  It began with Jet Blue. 
We drove our new Nissan Sentra 120 miles to the  Rochester airport where we would leave for JFK airport and then take a direct flight to San Diego.  Linda had instructed Jet Blue that we were traveling with an elderly, handicapped woman.  We also had two large luggage bags, two small ones and our computers.  When I puled up to the curb, a distinguished looking African American man met us..  “I represent a private firm,sir  and can help you with all of this.”  I didn’t argue. Within moments he had our bags  on a cart and a wheelchair for my mother-in-law.
I parked the car and ran back to  the check-in.  The man asked to see my ticket.  “Your wife said you are  not sitting together.  Let me take care of it.”  In a few minutes he was back with new seating and our luggage checked.
Big tip.
Jet Blue personnel had us and other with handicapped persons  and children board first.  During th whole flight I found Jet Blue staff to be courteous, helpful  and most of all, efficient.  When, on the second flight from JFK, thee was a mixup on seating, they fixed it quickly and quietly to, I think, everyone’s satisfaction, certainly ours.
Their slogan, “Happy Jetting,” was placed  in all passenger areas, but not ostentatiously. 
There were no  delays.  In fact we arrived in San  Diego early.  Pilots and staff thanked  each passenger for flying Jet Blue.
Most of these things happen on most airlines but with Jet Blue I got the feeling of a customer-oriented company that operates with confidence from the top down.
Next post: The underground society surrounding us.