He doesn’t see what you are, he sees who you are

“My dad owned a car dealership. He hired convicts, felons, drug dealers fresh out of prison. We had a repo guy that used to collect money for the Mexican cartel—had teardrops tattooed on his face. We had some real, low life, scary people. And they are probably some of the closest family that I have, these rough and tough people that others won’t give the time of day to.

“My dad picked up an employee from the prison, drove him to Ross, bought him a wardrobe, and then took him to work and said, ‘Here’s where your desk is. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He worked for us for ten years. Our mechanic was two weeks out of prison after being in prison for 18 years on drug and robbery charges. My dad picked him up, brought him over, bought him a brand-new tool box, air compressor, all the tools, and said, ‘I know it’s not much, but here’s your shop. See you Monday.’ He’s the kind of guy that doesn’t see what you are, he sees who you are. That’s the way that I’ve always aspired to live my life. Don’t say what you are, but be what you are and it will show.”