I'm not overly religious, but Luke 12:48 has always hit differently. "To whom much is given, much will be required." I grew up knowing want for not. Good schools, opportunities, a family that was always in the room. That verse didn't feel like a spiritual obligation so much as a plain description of my situation and what I owed because of it. The other line I carry around is attributed to Mark Twain: the two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why. My parents, each in their own way, helped me figure out the second one.
Her World Was Philanthropy
My mother's world was philanthropy. She was on the founding board of the Shenandoah Valley Discovery Museum and always on another board after that, always volunteering, always at the event. Growing up in that meant growing up with a very specific understanding of what it looked like to be in a community and actually show up for it. Not write a check and feel good about yourself. Show up. Understand the mission. Know the people running it. Treat giving back not as a special occasion but as a baseline expectation of what it meant to be part of a place. Her professional background was accounting, which meant that underneath all the generosity there was rigor. You supported the causes you believed in, and you understood where the money went. Both of those things stayed with me.
His World Was the Corporate One
My dad Bob's world was the corporate one. He taught me strategy and how a deal gets done, how to read a room before you speak in it, how to build relationships that last longer than the transaction. Those lessons matter and I use them. But the one that stuck deepest had nothing to do with any of that. It was this: treat the janitor and the receptionist with the same respect you give the CEO. Full stop. That lesson, absorbed early and repeated often, is the reason I can walk into any room. Not because I belong there by default, but because I'm not pretentious about it. The fancy people usually like the same things as everyone else. The gap between the Bush Light end of the room and the Krug end is a lot smaller than people on both sides want to admit. My dad worked hard, played harder, knew that success was built on relationships and first impressions, and never let either of those things become an excuse to look down at anyone. That was the model.
The Third Thing Was the Family Unit
The third thing wasn't any single person. It was the family unit. Volunteering and giving back weren't a gesture in our house. They were a rhythm. You invested in your community with the same seriousness you invested in your business or your career. Supporting the organizations around you wasn't altruism, it was participation. It was what people who had the means and the access did, because the community was what made everything else possible. I watched my parents live that, and it became the thing I most wanted to carry forward when I went out and started doing my own work.
The Assumptions Come With the Territory
Here's where I'll be honest with you, though. None of this comes without assumptions attached. People take one look at the background, the school, the comfort that comes through when you've never really had to hustle for survival, and they make a decision before you open your mouth. I've proved people wrong more times than I can count, my girlfriend included, when they expected me to be a snob and found out I wasn't. Sometimes people don't give you the chance to prove it at all. Assumptions are a quick way to shortchange yourself and everyone around you, and that cuts in every direction.
Use the Access for Something That Matters
So this is really two things at once. If you've had access, if you grew up in rooms like the ones I grew up in, the question is whether you're doing anything with it. The doors that opened easily for you took real effort for someone else. That's not a guilt trip, it's just math. Use the access for something that matters. And if you've made assumptions about someone based on where they came from, give them a minute to surprise you. Most people, on both ends of any room, are just trying to figure out why they're here and what they're supposed to do about it.
Be a good human and get shit done. My parents taught me both halves of that, and I've yet to find better advice.
