When I started planning Hey, Neighbour!, I made a list of what an “extraordinary story” might look like.
Big achievements. Unusual careers. Dramatic turning points.
Then I looked at the list again and realized it was wrong.
Or at least, incomplete.
Extraordinary is not the same as rare
The stories that stay with me are rarely about something spectacular.
They’re about something ordinary, done with unusual care.
Opening the same door every morning for twenty years. Learning a craft from a grandparent. Moving to a new country and starting again, at fifty.
None of these would make a headline. All of them make me want to listen.
What I’m listening for
As I prepare the series, these are the things I pay attention to.
- A reason. Why do you do what you do? The real answer, not the elevator pitch.
- A moment. One day, one decision, one conversation that changed the direction of things.
- A place. How does our town show up in your story? A street, a season, a person.
- A small truth. Something you learned that you wish someone had told you earlier.
If a conversation has one of these, it already has a story.
Why ten minutes
I chose a short format on purpose.
Ten minutes is long enough to go beyond small talk. Short enough to watch while your coffee cools down.
It’s also a form of respect. For the person sharing, and for the person listening.
Most people don’t think their story is interesting. That’s usually the first sign that it is.
The designer in me
This connects to my work more than I expected.
When I design a brand, I’m looking for the same things. A reason. A moment. A place. A small truth.
The difference is that a brand turns them into colours and words. Hey, Neighbour! lets people say them out loud, in their own voice.
I think both are important. And I think the second one might be more honest.
The series is still in preparation. You can follow along on the Hey, Neighbour! page.
