I’ve been thinking a lot about what it really means to be a greeter as we prepare to welcome the world to St. Louis in 2030.

At the International Convention in Atlanta,  the first member of the welcome committe I saw was at the airport.   Wanting some information about public transportation, I asked.   He said, “I don’t know, I’m from New Zealand.”   It was irritating at the time.  Someone from another country is greeting me in the United States didn’t make sense.

I experienced something similar in Vancouver.

I walked into an area where several greeters were standing together on my left—in a circle, talking to each other. On my right was a younger guy leaning against the wall, vaping, staring at his phone and looking agitated.  

Nobody was doing anything terrible.

But nobody was greeting.

Other times at the event, I had basic questions about where a meeting room was.  Out of a dozen volunteers at the table, No one seemed to know.  None of them were locals and they weren’t prepared.   I heard lots of stories from others about that, and still other stories from Midwesterners about how they greeted, but didn’t have any information.

The point is, that a greeter isn’t someone wearing a volunteer badge who happens to be standing near an entrance or someone taking a shift to get a shirt.

Greeting is a verb.

Look up.
Make eye contact.
Smile. 😃
Say hello.
Prepare to answer questions.
Ask if they need help.
Notice the person who looks lost.

And perhaps most importantly:

Don’t stand around talking to the other greeters.

We have less than four years before the AA world arrives in St. Louis. We have time to raise the bar.

When someone travels 500 miles—or 5,000 miles—to come to our hometown, they shouldn’t have to come looking for our welcome.  

We should be looking for them.