January 17, 2023
Everyone has a hustle, something they have to do to get by, get theirs, live their best life, or simply survive to see the next day come around. No matter your scale and what side of the axis you’re on, we all have one. Some flip burgers, others flip insurance or some other service or good. Others marry well, or are born into theirs.
I’ve always found the hustle intriguing. I myself have found various iterations of the hustle in my life. From stocking shelves, to academics, to selling surgery, to making protein bars, and now to whatever it is you call what I do today. Everything, in some way/shape/form is a hustle. The only variability depends on what you give out, who you give it to, and what you get back in return ($, happiness, security - ideally a combination of the three).
Tonight I find myself unable to take my eyes off of Sam’s hustle. A seven year old who goes to school by day and sells shirts, on the ever interesting “Pub Street” by night. There’s no labour laws here looking out for Sam or his best interests, nor those of his sister for that matter, who sits across the alley selling coconuts with her mom. It’s going to be a long night in Siem Reap for the entire family. The night goes on until the goods are gone or the last tourist has sequestered themselves into their boutique hotel.
The hustle is real, no matter where you are or your circumstances (I’m sure). What makes tonights especially hard to see is that there is likely to be no upward transition or lateral move for Sam and his family. Just a daily grind, a hard hustle, and a hope that tomorrow might be ever so slightly better than it was today.