Never Next Now Blacks, Italians & Golden Listening : - Edition 3
Never. Next. Now. Newsletter
BY RAQUEL EATMON
5.7.25
THE PROCESS OF IMPROVEMENT
Never.
Exploration.
On Golden Listening
Hanging on tightly to the front door of my restaurant, the man asked me, “Who runs this place?”
“I do,” I answered and walked over to greet him.
His eyebrows went north. “I’m not trying to be rude, but what does a Black know about Italian food?” The man, obviously well aged, said while his wife stood behind him.
After one short breath, I smiled and said, “What did Colonel Sanders know about fried chicken? Get in here and give us a try!”
Silence.
The apprehensive couple, “The Wilsons” were visiting Cleveland from New York state. They were hungry for pasta and we had plenty of it at Osteria Italian.
From their vantage point were cherry wood walls and subtle lighting. A Black bartender was servicing a few guests, all of whom were bug-eyed after witnessing the exchange I was having with the pair.
I stood, perhaps uncomfortably close to the couple, helping them hold the door ajar.
“Umm, what do you think, dear?” Mr. Wison asked his wife. She nodded and patted her belly.
They accepted my invitation.
“Follow me,” I signaled with an open hand.
Stepping over the low hanging mouths of bar patrons, I guided the couple through a short corridor between the bar and dining room. In the middle was our open kitchen. At the time, my entire chef team was Black, I wondered if the Wilsons would dart for the door.
“Oh Lord,” I mumbled under my breath.
As we entered the candlelit 1950s vibe dining room, Frank Sinatra crooned overhead.
Once they were seated, I announced that I was their server.
Mrs. Wilson remarked, “We know authentic Italian.”
“I do too.” I smiled again.
I volunteered the backstory of my journey in hospitality. I elaborated on my love for cooking and my philosophy on how food brings us together. “My grandmothers folded in the flavor!” I shared.
The couple devoured the scaloppine di porcini and some pastas which I paired with my favorite Barolo wine. After dinner, they over tipped the team. We posed for photos, then came tight hugs, and a 5-star Google review.
A few months later, the Wilsons drove in from the east coast again; this time with four friends. Their sole purpose was to dine at Osteria. It was a festive evening for them with family style dishes accompanied with hearty laughs and grand hand gestures.
Would you believe they returned a third time too… with more friends? But it’s the first encounter that is forever ingrained in my memory.
None of this could have happened if I had taken offense to Mr. Wilson's comment. I activated what I call Golden Listening. I leaned into what I heard, not the decisiveness peddled by newsfeeds. I heard pure curiosity from an elderly man who didn’t see the world as I did- but had questions.
Curiosity has no hidden agenda. If we listen with intention, we just might soften our hearts and create an opportunity to connect, inform, and lead.
If I didn’t tell the Wilsons about the flavor board that Blacks and Italians shared, who would have?
Instantly, I morphed into that lean-bean eight-year old, pony-tails flopping girl, staring up at my mom. I had a deep curiosity about her, even at the grocery.
The grown-up version of me tapped into dormant memories left tightly folded for decades. Suddenly, it all rolled back: A single mother, just getting by, buying vegetables for her growing daughter. Scenes from my childhood flowed like a smooth dance. While I liked spinach, I’d latch on to the side of the shopping cart, pleading for popsicles. “Yes,” mom always said. Those were hard times, but mom knew how to soften them.
As I recounted this memory, my brain moved from shopping with mom toward the extreme hardships my family endured. Sadness threatened to overwhelm me.
“No!” I told myself, “There will not be a meltdown at this cooler in aisle 9!”
I’ve replayed past hurt before, no more reruns are needed! I teetered. I shifted. I changed.
I allowed the reminiscence to swell to a whirlwind of warmth: That old neighborhood store, the chill from the freezer, the squeaky cart wheels, mom’s coconut-y perfume. The resurgence was refreshing.
I closed the freezer door, staring at the reflection of my grown-up self. The corners of my mouth met the sky. I felt a deep appreciation for what was long forgotten.
Although I was alone in the moment, I felt a direct connection to something significantly bigger. I felt loved, validated, valued, and protected.
Many memories can ignite joy, even if they need a little coaxing. A nudge in the right direction produces better thoughts, helping us to get a bit stronger each time. A more sturdy and secure life certainly settles me, how about you?
Next.
Innovation.
On Truth and Love
“I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”
– Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
Now.
Growth.
On Staying Open
A quote from me: “To the people that have questions: keep asking. To the people that have the answers: keep talking. Assumptions can destroy our ability to deepen our connections, which crushes the world around us.”
- Raquel Eatmon
Thank you for being here with me. I’m delighted to share this experience with you. If you enjoyed it, will you please forward this Never. Next. Now. newsletter with a friend or send me a note at RaquelEatmon@gmail.com on your thoughts?
Warmly,
Raquel
PS: When you close your eyes you don’t immediately see pitch black.
Raquel Eatmon is a serial entrepreneur. She is an Author, Restaurateur, Speaker, Founder of Woman of Power Leadership Conference and a dynamic Communications Catalyst. She is a sought after professional development speaker, executive coach and podcast interviewee. Perhaps there is a fit for your organization. Inquire via raqueleatmon.com/contact