More Than Just Tea

September is the time of year when we select an artist to create the artwork for a limited-edition tea we premiere in October. The box and tea are popular items for the holidays and beyond because of the inspiring art we have featured and how the contest strives to support local Black artists.

Last week we convened with our judges. The seven members of the team worked conscientiously and followed a fair and deliberate process that was appropriate for an art contest.

Some of the judges are working artists or have an artistic background, so they could spot the technical mistakes and areas for improvement. They were comfortable assessing the submissions and confident in their choices. They had relevant experience. We will call them the “Technicians.”

Others do not have training in visual arts, nor are they paid in their careers to be creative. These judges were more hesitant to criticize, unsure what was “right” or “wrong” about the art but eventually joined those with the artistic backgrounds to reach consensus. These are the “Novices.”

The remaining judges landed somewhere in the middle. Perhaps they know something about painting or photography; they are collectors of art or hope to be. Nevertheless, they had strong opinions about the submissions, and no problems weighing in on someone else’s creative passion despite a lack of extensive experience. They had a job to do. Let’s call them the “Doers.”

The views of the judges were varied, and all were valid. They chose an accomplished artist with an amazing portfolio whose work will be well-received by customers and the community. The goal, after all, was to choose a winner.

A problem, though, is that the archetypes represented by our tea box art judges (Technicians, Novices, Doers) exist in our daily lives. Rather than contributing to something beautiful, worthwhile, and a benefit to others, these self-appointed adjudicators apply unrealistic standards to the lives of those with whom they come in contact. What is more problematic is that most of us are among one of these categories of judges.

The Technicians have erred in many of the same ways as those around them, but they have overcome or are overcoming, so they are quick to point out our flaws, often without the same level of grace and understanding they were once afforded. Instead, they could offer an ear, a relevant perspective, and if requested, gentle advice.

The Novices approach others in the correct way – cautious and hesitant to be critical. Unfortunately, they are often co-opted by the Technicians and the Doers, rather than giving others the benefit of the doubt. Novices should trust their instincts and remind themselves that there is likely much they do not know about the lives of others.

The Doers may not judge quickly. They want to be seen as wise and experienced, but their judgement can be harsh. Doers may justify the harm caused by their “verdicts” because they believe they are helping others to become “better people.”

When describing the environment at The House, we have often used the term “judgement-free,” and to be sure there is far less judgement within the walls of 3028 Carnes than in many other places. All of us, however, are guilty of judging. Sustaining a judgement-free environment is a conscious choice which requires daily discipline.

Praying together – Orange Mound ladies, volunteers, and sometimes guests – is essential. It diverts our attention away from ourselves and the superficial. Mentors and mentees socializing outside of My Cup of Tea helps us to better understand one another and recognize how we are alike. Sharing a meal daily breaks down barriers and stereotypes.

A Middle Eastern proverb says, “He who shares his food shares his heart,” and in Acts 2: 46-47, in addressing the early Christian Church, Scripture says, “And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people.”

Unlike the tea box art contest, the goal of life is not to identify a single winner. We are not participants in some worldwide version of “The Hunger Games.”

Many of us remember the passage in Scripture where Jesus says, “Judge not that you be not judged.” (Matthew 7:1) Jesus then goes on to discuss the speck in our brother’s eye versus the log in our own. A few verses later, in Matthew 7:12, we receive the “Golden Rule.”

“So, whatever you wish others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.”

And who of us wishes to be judged?

It’s 901 Day for 1.06 million people who live in the roughly 800 square miles in and around Memphis. This includes a favorite lady who lives in Orange Mound.

Jane (That’s what we’ll call her) didn’t finish middle school. To her, 901 Day means that there are special gift-wrap assignments and more customers than usual as she works at the House in Orange Mound. Her cell phone number starts with the area code 901, but she doesn’t know that 901 is a geographic region.

She fits into the classification called Below Basic Literacy, BBL, which means she lacks the minimal skills needed to perform simple literacy tasks.   Though she has a firm handle on her neighborhood, she cannot read the road signs. Her limited world can be walked in forty-five minutes.

Jane has mastered her daily route to work on foot through eight blocks she knows by heart in Orange Mound. She leaves home every weekday morning at 8:15, passes the Dollar Store just before she reaches Park Avenue.  If she has five dollars and time allows, she stops into Church’s Fried Chicken for two biscuits and a Coke.  She continues to the corner of Park and Semmes and turns north.  She waves at the people who are passing her in their cars, and nods at one or two neighbors who are headed South to the bus stop.  She deftly steps around the countless holes and cracks in the crumbled concrete sidewalk, as if walking on autopilot.

Her mind, however, is deeply occupied in prayer with the collective needs of her children and grandchildren.  Last weekend she housed and fed 15 of the 20 who live in Memphis, in her two-bedroom apartment for three days. A storm and straight-line winds cut through Memphis on August 22nd, disabling thousands of MLGW customers. Her kids’ rentals lost power for four days. She had to miss work on Monday even though she needed the money.

Tuesday, she reached work at 3028 Carnes by 8:45 and left her imaginary backpack of intercessory prayers on the wide front porch.  At 2:00 pm, she gathered them up and reversed her 30-minute walk back home, a little more slowly in the hot and humid Memphis afternoon.

She is in control in the corner of her two-mile-radius world. The package store, work, the loan company, her sister’s “hair salon,” and her brother’s rental are all within her personal area code: 000.

Her little world is deep, not wide.  Scarcity of options makes life a little less complicated when survival is the priority. Her energy goes daily to family, food, and shelter. Poverty and time shrink a person’s map in Memphis, and level the geography to sidewalks, curbs, and busy streets.

Jane can’t easily leave the turf she knows, and as a result, the rest of the city is abstract. Political or civic rallies, voting poll locations, alternate school options, and fully stocked grocery stores are invisible unless someone gives her a ride and she pays for the gas. Resources, recreation opportunities, and shopping centers a few more miles out might feel like a different country, not the city she calls Memphis.

However, Jane is managing her two-mile radius like a dancer knows her marks. Her small world is deep with what matters: family, faith, and the ladies with whom she works.  She has sorted out ways to encourage her coworkers and is often the first to sense their sorrows. She holds her family close, and the Lord holds her even closer.

Jane is content, always at peace and at rest in a noisy world full of distraction. She has distilled what most are trying to find in the vast shallows of our troubled community. She doesn’t need a bigger map because she has, by grace, never been lost in her world. She is the leading lady in a story worthy of reading. She is honored and respected. She is one of our valued and beloved employees at My Cup of Tea.

When shopping for tea is not a priority among our many loyal customers, we give sway to the back-to-school sales, giveaways, and specials.  Though tea sales are consistent but not robust, the ladies need their income, good meals, cool and dry spaces, safety, and fellowship. For the last ten years, we have filled the late summer months with morale boosters, lectures, encouragements, and pep talks.

We invite a gaggle of professionals to join us for lunch and share insights, as we all need to find strength for today and hope for tomorrow. Recently, one of our board members developed a fresh curriculum to replace our outdated “Work for Life” program. We anticipate younger ladies will arrive in September for the new and improved My Cup of Tea employment opportunity. Stephanie White’s original curriculum is the initial course from which each will be trained.

                As they haven’t arrived, Stephanie has led a first look at our new “Preparing for Work” classes for our current employees.  All well know the flow of tea in and tea out at the House; however, none have been familiar with the possibilities of learning more about themselves, others with whom they work, and the imperatives of being dependable at MCOT.

 Our pursuit of growth has previously involved guidance from esteemed scholars, pastors, laymen, theologians, and global missionaries. Yet, it was Stephanie’s hometown voice that truly pierced the corporate shell of indifference that had settled over our team. Through the SAGE framework, her invention -- Self-awareness, Accountability, Growth, and Excellence – she has effectively recalibrated our approach to work ethic, workplace ecosystems, and our culture of prayer and release. Previously, many of our employees were so immersed in personal challenges that they could not offer their full hearts and minds to the mission of My Cup of Tea.

The predictable initial hesitancy regarding new agendas has been completely dissolved by her hands-on workshops, which have sparked a tangible revival of interest, confidence, and cohesion among our staff.

She has given us a gift that all formal education could not.  While we have learned from PHD’s and theologians, missionaries, and pastors, the SAGE framework has given the ladies a new lens to view their work, their prayer life, and their potential. The existing team, weary from personal battles and unsure of the future, has been fortified with a renewed sense of confidence and purpose. The atmosphere at work continues to be transformed.

Her techniques have been colorful and creative. Venn diagrams, colors to represent emotions, direct challenges on self-awareness, personal interviews, and balloon releases of prayer requests contribute to mental and emotional “spa days”.  I am equally matched by all of the ladies in anticipation of each of her teaching days. She has revived us all in time for the beginning of our big shopping season, which begins in September. She has given us the tools to re-engage with our mission. The initial wariness toward change has been replaced with a vibrant excitement.

            She has extended an invitation to vulnerability—not as a demand, but as a brave and generous offering. She has asked each of us to distill ourselves into a single word, stripping away the noise and pretense that so often guard our hearts. In doing so, she has pulled back the bandage gently but firmly, creating a sacred space where we might hear how others truly see us.

            Not every reflection has been tender. Some words have landed like unexpected stones, sharp and uncomfortable. Yet even in that discomfort, something rich has taken root. For in those unfiltered glimpses, we have been handed a mirror—not to shame us, but to grow us. What felt like judgment has become an invitation: to soften, to repent, to mature, and to become more fully who we are meant to be.

            Her courage has not been reckless; it has been rooted in a deep and patient love. She has not asked us to be perfect, only honest. She has not promised ease, only truth. And in that truth, there is grace—the kind that sanctifies not by polishing us overnight, but by walking with us through the long, sacred work of becoming.

            Her most defining moment—the one that will stay with me- was the way she turned the spotlight onto L. Cool, the woman who tends our grounds and keeps our building whole. L. Cool is the only one who quietly carpools the women who have no ride, who makes our deliveries across the city, who watches over our property on the weekends.

            When Stephanie asked us, “Who can do what she does?” no one spoke. Silence. Eyes lowered. Because we all knew the answer.

            Stephanie continued, her voice steady with reverence: “L. Cool’s work ethic is unmatched. Her efforts are the reason we stand before every visitor in beauty: the gardens, the front lawn, the majestic building that greets our community. Our brand begins at the curb, in the pride and dignity of what she tends, long before the first tea box is ever seen.” In that moment, we understood that she wasn't just honoring one woman. She was teaching us to see the sacred in the unseen.