- - July 6, 2020 -


woman of colour for blog thank you to dave francis

I got famous a few times.

I made it into the promotional brochure of our community college wearing an acid wash sweatshirt and Bon Jovi hair. Another time, I was lakeside in a sea flea race boat video wearing a bathing suit and Bon Jovi hair. Once, I trained with the UFC original Gracie brothers wearing a crisp karate uniform and Bon Jovi hair.

The Bon Jovi hair was the common denominator. Bon Jovi hair could make you famous. Maybe Bon Jovi hair is the key to world peace. (Note to younger readers: Jon Bon Jovi was everything. No lie. Google it.)

From the moment we step out onto the stage of life, we are coaxed to seek out our 15 minutes of fame. Stand out. Speak up. Get awesome. Get awesomer. Perform. Out-perform. Back when I was young, you had to become the legend of stories told on land phones that hung on kitchen walls and photographs that took one week to get developed at the local drug store, praying daily that at least one pic on that film roll would survive and be mind-blowing. It was always a crapshoot. Video was cut from 20 pound machines that sat on your shoulder. Music was cut from 20 pound ghetto-blasters that sat on your shoulder. Fashion was cut with 20 pound shoulder pads sitting on your shoulder. We had a lot of weight on our shoulders being young in the 80s. Seeking fame took incredible effort.

Now we have Tik Tok, Snapchat, YouTube, Facebook, Instagram. Insta-famous. Barely any effort at all. Sit on your bed, your toilet, press, record, flick a filter, edit, and voila. Fame & followers. Today’s aspiring fame junkie can record and autotune a song and appear on the Ellen Show, faster than I could push play on my Sony Walkman and belt out the first verse of Roxanne.

And then I became a 50 something woman with a bit of life under my meno-belly belt. I remembered something I had once read… When approaching change, you can only measure what you will lose, not what you will gain. Tipping over the 50 mark, I finally hit my a-ha.

It was time to become nobody.

The hardest mindset to overcome is the idea that being nobody is a bad thing. Being nobody releases our expectations of the inner hero. Becoming nobody allows us the freedom to become. Just become. Free of comparisons. Free to explore our endgame with intentions that are loosed of the limits that confine us to those 15 minutes of prophesied fame. Becoming nobody isn’t about striving for mediocrity – it means your prime directive is contentment. Finding passion in the otherwise, mundane. Becoming nobody releases a freedom. Perhaps you will be exceptional. Perhaps you will fall very short. But when you are nobody, you are free to aim yourself wherever you choose and land wherever you wish. You are given permission to master excellence in the trivial.

The Inspire nominees are truly a bunch of nobodies. Just a bunch of nobodies accomplishing a bunch of extraordinary stuff that funny enough, landed them on the great and famous www to inspire others to become nobodies. Just. Like. Them. Their fame was birthed from their nobody’ness.

We don’t need superheroes to save us. We need a bunch of passionate nobodies.

And Bon Jovi hair wouldn’t hurt. Just to be sure.