Luck is opportunity meeting preparedness.
My grandfather was a first-generation German immigrant in Southern California. Raised by strict, religious, farm-working parents, he graduated from University and served in the Navy in World War II. He became a civil engineer, married, bought a home, and had children. He was part of that burgeoning upper-middle class of America at that time – that greatest generation that seemed to be better and better-off every day compared to the generations that passed before them. He was lucky.
My grandfather had lots of words of advice as I grew up, but the one that comes most to mind is his definition of “Luck.” “Luck,” he said, “was opportunity meeting preparedness.” Of course, this saying did not originate with my grandfather. But he was the first person to define luck for me. He explained the balance like this: while you may come from a place of opportunity, you can squander it if you fail to rise to meet it. Similarly, you may have all the preparedness in the world, but find your path void of opportunity despite your best efforts. It is the balance between simultaneously being at the right serendipitous occasion and your ability and commitment to rise up to meet it, where you find luck.
As a public defender and immigration advocate, and attorney for a decade and a half, I see this definition of “Luck” play out constantly with my clients. Standing next to defendants that are often severely mentally ill, painfully addicted, homeless, or otherwise seemingly unable to ever catch a break or bit of “luck” – one part of the equation always seems to be out of their reach. I try my best to work diligently to tip the equation to, perhaps, guide them in a way that might position them to be prepared and/or to help squeeze out even the slightest bit of opportunity in situations that are often abysmally dire. As an immigration advocate and attorney, the stories and histories of my clients are so often entrenched in an equation where, while their preparedness and efforts striving to rise up are unparalleled, their circumstances are so devoid of opportunity that they are ever chasing just the mere specter of a dream of it, sacrificing their homes and lives just for the possibility that opportunity could exist. I stand next to them, trying to find any rare glimpse of opportunity to assist them along their path.
While being a lawyer for the indigent and immigrant are not particularly illustrious or financially worthwhile occupations, I am incredibly privileged to stand and walk beside my clients. Because, it turns out, that as a human, knowing your path and calling in life can be a monumental lifelong challenge. My path and calling as a public defender and immigration advocate remain vividly clear for me. For that, I am truly lucky.
My grandfather met my grandmother in the parking lot of the USO at a Friday night dance. It was the kind of meeting that changed their lives for decades. My grandfather tells the story of their meeting as the luckiest time in his life. Life presented an opportunity to dance with my grandmother, and he bravely asked her to dance. They had eight children. Whether my grandfather met opportunity with preparedness in having eight children is a comical debate, of course.
May you help others to be lucky. May you be lucky.