0 → Thirty years and a broken chair
The best talk of the conference, by a distance. Miriam had spent thirty years at American Express, risen to the highest position available in Mexico, and had three children, the eldest seventeen, when a man starting a company told her he wanted her. Her first reaction was that it would be idiotic: she was secure, at the top, with kids to feed and put through university. She consulted her son, who said she'd been bored there for years and should try. She warned him what failure would cost, no American university, maybe not even a good Mexican one, and he answered that public universities exist. She jumped. What she walked into was a chaotic office, things everywhere, second-hand chairs with crooked legs, and a thought: what have I gotten myself into. That company is now one of Mexico's biggest in its category. Her hiring criterion is stomach, people who can take feedback without closing.
// trace: where this idea came from
- ↳ video diary @ 1:07:59 (Miriam trabajó 30 años en American Express y tenía la posición más alta en México)
- ↳ video diary @ 1:08:56 (su primera reacción fue por qué haría esa burrada, estoy segura, tengo tres hijos que alimentar)
- ↳ video diary @ 1:09:23 (el hijo le dijo que ya estaba aburrida, inténtalo; ella le advirtió que podía no haber universidad buena)
- ↳ video diary @ 1:10:34 (llegó a una oficina desorganizadísima con sillas de segunda con las patas chuecas, ¿en dónde me metí?)
- ↳ video diary @ 1:11:23 (contratan gente con estómago, que sepa recibir feedback y procesarlo sin cerrarse)
The best talk they saw, both agree, was Miriam’s, from Clip, the Mexican payments company, the card-reader terminals. And what made it good was that it was a story with a real cost attached.
She had been at American Express for thirty years and held the highest position available to her in Mexico ▸ 1:07:59. Three children, the eldest around seventeen. And a man starting a company came to her and said, essentially, you are the person I most need in my company right now.
Her first reaction was not excitement. It was that it would be an idiocy, una burrada ▸ 1:08:56. She was secure. She was at the top. She had three kids to feed and eventually put through university. Why would anyone in that position start over? This is the honest shape of the trap Juan names right after: there’s a point where your life is comfortable enough that restarting looks purely insane, and plenty of people arrive there and simply stop.
le advirtió al hijo lo que costaba, y el hijo dijo que para eso están las públicas →
What moved her was a conversation with her son. He told her she’d been bored in that place for years, doing the same thing, and that she should try it. She pushed back with the actual arithmetic, which is the detail that makes the story worth keeping: are you aware that if this goes badly, it means no university in the United States, and maybe not even a good private one here in Mexico? ▸ 1:09:23 He answered that that’s what the public university is for. She also reasoned that she had to set her children an example. So she jumped.
And what she walked into on day one was an office in total disorder, things thrown everywhere, second-hand chairs with crooked legs, and the thought ¿en dónde me metí?, what have I gotten myself into ▸ 1:10:34. She had her moment of doubt right there, at the threshold. She stayed anyway. That company is now among the top of its category in Mexico.
The second half of her talk was about how they hire, and it gave Juan a word he liked: they look for people with estómago, stomach ▸ 1:11:23. Not toughness in the macho sense; she meant people who can receive feedback, actually process it instead of closing up, and improve. Which, read alongside the leap, describes one continuous trait rather than two: the willingness to let outside information, a son’s opinion, a hard critique, a chair with a broken leg, change what you do next…
// continued in
no entry has continued this idea yet: the arc is still open