Hospitality and community: a hospitality girl’s view….

Let’s start with the elephant in the room. It’s been a while since I was a girl, but “Views from a semi-menopausal 50-something tough industry” is just too big of a mouthful. So if you can pretend I’m a girl, that will make me deliriously happy. Thank you.

So, who am I?

Let’s start there. My name is Kellie Rixon MBE FIH and I have been working in the hospitality industry for almost 40 years.

I started in my mother’s incredibly busy cafe in the center of Liverpool in the 80s, and have done virtually every job in the hospitality industry since then.

I’ve worked in kitchens, behind the bar, waiting, cellar work, conferences and exhibitions, HR, marketing and even spent some time in sales. I have literally pulled myself through the ranks of this wonderful, challenging industry to become somewhat of a little success story (well, that’s what I am to my family), culminating in me becoming Chairman of the Board of supervision of the Institute of Hospitality and also an MBE.

Through various conversations I have been asked to give my views on the topics and situations that influence hospitality today.

These are my views and mine alone, but I have a lifetime of real life experiences and an infinite love for my industry, so I hope you enjoy considering my views, along with everyone else’s.

I’m not here to be controversial, but anyone who knows me will tell you that I am honest, straightforward and direct. I believe in the power of people and the power of good work. So hopefully in the coming months I will be discussing topics or themes that resonate with you and all the other lovely hospitality folks out there.

My plan is to give each column a “theme” so that I don’t harp on about the price of strawberries (although that may find its way here at some point). So I thought my first theme should be something personal. That is true and I will explain why. So as an introduction, my wanderings and musings my first foray loosely fall under the theme of hospitality and community.

Too many conversations are just about city center hospitality and while that’s a big part of the whole sector these days, I want to focus on the local hospitality businesses that are out there. Part of my career has been spent running pubs for regional operators.

I worked for The Tetley Pub Co., Wolverhampton & Dudley (Banks) and Marstons, running pubs all over the country. Believe me, the idea of running a pub wasn’t really a career ambition for most twenty-somethings at the time, but like most people in the industry I got into it by getting a part-time job behind the bar.

I caught the bug quickly. I also quickly realized how difficult it was and how many hats you have to wear. I was responsible for everything, so I had to tackle everything. In addition to understanding the inner workings of the operation, I also had to understand the commercials as margins are tight and expectations are high. I had to be able to develop a business plan, manage costs, drive sales, create a marketing plan, all while working twelve hours a day. It was an exhausting but great foundation for the rest of my career.

It taught me the importance of a plan. The value of spending time developing your people and it has taught me community.

Community was not something that was ever explained, but something that became clearly apparent on the first day. “The regulars run this bar” was the first conversation I had with a customer. I wasn’t sure if it was some kind of mafia-style shakedown or unwarranted bravado, but it was said straight to me, looking me in the eye and without a hint of irony.

As time passed and my kneecaps remained intact, that client’s words rang true. Not in the way I thought, I mean no one turned up to work a shift or jumped behind the bar to help themselves, but the people who used and loved the pub did define the identity and purpose of the pub.

A classic lesson in understanding the market demographic and giving them what they want. All good community businesses need this. An authentic understanding of the people and the places where they operate. Be warned, don’t assume you know what people want, ask them and above all, listen.

I made room for the people in my company, those who were paid and those who paid me. You can never underestimate the customer as pubs and restaurants are literally the collective melting pots of society. When Billy Joel sang about Piano Man, he did so from personal experience. This observation of human behavior continues to fascinate me. Although to this day I’m not sure what a “real estate novelist” is, or whether Paul actually found time for a woman.

I became part of my community and they in turn became part of mine. We’ve built a sense of connection, belonging and security, which, as any brand person will tell you, are the foundations of brilliant companies. However, it was so much more than just business. Community always shows up when it matters most. When they need support or want to celebrate the special moments in their lives. They show up.

Hospitality also comes to the fore for them. When the need arises, the great people who work in this crazy industry show up when called upon. Whether it’s that extra service to ensure someone’s party runs smoothly or to raise money for local charities, to support the local teams and clubs by giving them a meeting space, or to be there when the worst things happen when a safe place to be or talk. Hospitality people are intuitive experts in human behavior, I’m sure.

Now I talked about why this sense of community was a personal topic for me and I wanted to explain why.

In crisis, communities come together and hospitality always comes to the fore. This has never been more clear and real to me until the devastating and utterly heartbreaking events in Southport occurred at the start of what should have been this year’s glorious summer time by the sea.

You see, I live in Southport. It is the most fantastically happy place to live. The beach, the fair and the parks are generally all filled with the sounds of laughter and fun. What happened silenced the city. In these moments of horror, the community showed up.

Food was made, spaces opened up, warmth and generosity abounded. The hospitality community of this small coastal town showed up in droves, and businesses that have been through so much stepped up to help others and support their communities. It was completely humiliating.

I was so proud to hear the stories about places that offer food and drink and places where everyone can come together and hold each other close. Some of these businesses, already struggling with summer trade and visitors’ uncertainty about the future, just showed up. Without worries about their profit margins or long working hours. Hospitality in the community was evident and always is.

That is why we must support our entire sector. Our community-based operators need love too. Their value, contribution and commitment is no less than anyone else’s, and with the devastating number of closures of pubs and local food businesses at an all-time high, we need our community to pull together.

So my sign-off for now is simple: community is in all of us. It doesn’t matter if it’s a place in the countryside, a pub in a village or a big city operation. Find your community, listen to them and learn from them because they will be the ones who show up when you really need them.