Putting the Spit in Hospitality

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I’ve always found it odd seeing nurses smoke. A mere dozen feet from a hospital entrance you can certainly find nurses lighting up. Surely they’re aware of their habits and the risks. Although, I can’t be quite sure. Having amassed well over a decade working in hospitality I can make sense why a nurse would take to smoking. Restaurant people love their opinions, especially around food and service. When I hear harsh criticisms around restaurants delivered by industry folk a pang emerges. How could a business, a livelihood even, vocalize anything in opposition to what a career in hospitality is based on? A smoking nurse is an image, one of defiance, an inclination for rejection. Maybe we’re hardwired to behave this way. Is it too late for accountability in regards to choice?

I, in no means, wish to masquerade with saintly behavior. I used to be highly critical of restaurants. Speaking poorly about hospitality is the antithesis of what it means to be a hospitality person. Constructing rhetoric in a world of restaurants is not new. When you work for any hospitality group, surely they believe the product they offer is industry leading, aspirational even. Days off for hospitality employees are about collecting data, sometimes with insidious behavior in comparison. As a restaurant community we pleaded with the public during the pandemic to give us grace with the promise we’d return stronger than ever. How in the hell could we expect such leniency when we rarely afford it to each other?

Criticism is a double edged sword. The words are meant to inform, clinging to intellectualism. Sometimes critique is meaningful if positioned well and optimistic. In a sea of potential there is a lot more work to do. Like any business, hospitality is flawed and on a good day meets all of the criteria deemed to be exceptional. What bothers me are restaurant employees, salaried or not, choosing to hold a position of “self-prowess” despite the instinctual indispensable need for connection. We are them, they are us, you are me and I am you.

“How was the experience?” This question is posed to others with hopes of a conversation around food, dining or likewise. A lot about certain industries already feels competitive. I receive great satisfaction from rejecting the need to assert an opinion or takedown another establishment for self-interest. The anti-venom to this dialogue is quieting the ego within offering an affirmative statement in support. Those seeking to commiserate about hospitality experiences will find each other. If you wish to live freely not burdened by your own intellect, become accountable in lieu of judgment.

It is possible to feel two things about hospitality at the same time. Disappointment and reverence can exist cohesively. I believe that's where the real work begins. The industry of hospitality survives on the basis of respect. Universally, we can’t all love the same experience. A conscious reframing of the ways hospitality is spoken about can shift the culture around restaurants and dining. As a child, many of us were bestowed with the wisdom, “if you have nothing nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.” Reinstating that principle energetically changes your neurochemistry. The business of taking care of people is about the people. When we delineate our experiences consider the holistic implications of the lives you’re speaking about. Not everyone gets it right and that's okay. Perhaps I should join the smoking nurses and see what's really going on. I’m not there to judge, but I’d love to understand.