Strength in humility

“Please have a seat.”

I lead him into one of our conference rooms on the 39th floor of our new 45 story Canary Wharf, London’s new and modern financial district, office.

He looks apprehensively around the room, taking in the plush surroundings and then at the gorgeous round wooden conference table and its seven chairs. He pauses, unsure of which one to take.

Sensing his uneasiness in a professional office environment, I casually offer him a specific chair near mine. Grateful for the assistance he mutters a quick thank you as he slumps into the chair, drapes his long, worn-out overcoat over his lap and clutches his cheap and tattered briefcase to his chest in a protective manner.

“Have you brought your CV with you?”

“Oh, yes, of course” he stutters and then proceeds to open his old briefcase and pull out a folder. A few awkward moments of silence pass as he shuffles through the papers looking for his CV, his hands slightly trembling. He finally finds it and slides the CV across the table to me. His dark eyes look up eagerly at mine in anticipation as I read through his CV.

This frightened and seemingly shy forty-something year old man holds a law degree, worked as a lawyer for many years in his home country, and was the former legal advisor to the president of the Republic of Congo as a member of the presidential cabinet.

Now, here he sits, sharing a table with a 26 year old woman who is reviewing his CV as if a teacher were reviewing the book report of a seven year old child.

Forced to flee his country, he now holds refugee status in the U.K., arriving in London approximately 6 years ago without knowing a word of English. The challenges this man had to overcome, I cannot ever even begin to imagine, and the challenges he has yet to face even more daunting.

Currently, this well-educated man is still looking for a job. After learning the English language and obtaining a certificate in U.K. refugee law he is now desperately seeking a paid job as a refugee advisor. I am here to help improve his CV and interviewing skills.

I begin the mock interview, asking the standard questions regarding his abilities, the necessary qualities a refugee advisor must have, and the challenges he has faced in his work as a volunteer as a refugee advisor.

The interview begins poorly. He is unsure as to how to appropriately answer the questions and is seemingly clueless. I quickly offer him suggestions, prodding him for examples and key “selling” points he should include in his answers.

However, as the interview progresses, his intelligence and competency soon become apparent. His eyes suddenly and self-assuredly fixate on mine. Through them I see the confidant and powerful man he truly was; trapped inside by a strange culture he was not accustomed to.

Listening to him speak, it was clear that his initial awkwardness came not from incompetence as a Westerner would immediately assume, but rather from a fear of the unknown and a sense of humility as he must rely on others to help him in his transition to this completely new culture and way of life. The frustration of this culture imposed prison is evident.

I wrap up the interview and we discuss some of the strengths and weaknesses of his interviewing skills. He politely listens, clutching his briefcase to his chest throughout the duration.

I am almost embarrassed to be offering a man, clearly about 15 years my senior and with an impressive educational and work background, interview advice. Even more so because I cannot imagine how humbling it must be for him to have to take advice from a 26 year old, as well as be so appreciative for it.

As he timorously shakes my hand and then awkwardly makes his way for the elevator, I cannot help but think that, regardless of the slouched posture, non-perfect English, and subservient way of speaking, he is one of the strongest men I have met.