We were lucky to catch up with Pauline France recently and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Pauline, appreciate you sitting with us today to share your wisdom with our readers. So, let’s start with resilience – where do you get your resilience from?
Like many people, I led a pretty average, ordinary life. I was pursuing a college degree in my local community college, worked part-time teaching guitar, and lived with my loving parents and sister in a city once dubbed one of the top 10 most boring cities in the country by Forbes magazine. I know, riveting.
In a matter of months, however, my life would become everything but ordinary.
To paint a clearer picture, my dad, self-employed, was the breadwinner of the house; my sister worked full-time; and my mom was a stay-at-home homemaker while I managed a full-time course load at college and worked part-time. We were a middle-class family living paycheck to paycheck, but always had basic necessities at hand. And we had love. Lots of love.
Then one August, my dad – who was usually the most gregarious, verbose human being you could meet – was different. His demeanor was completely out of character: he was quiet, reserved, cantankerous. We knew something was off, but couldn’t fathom we were just months away from things taking a turn for the unimaginable.
Dad was in pain, but couldn’t pinpoint where the pain was coming from. We took him to several doctors, who quickly dismissed his symptoms, or attributed them to stress or lack of ergonomic furniture. We faithfully followed their instructions, and somehow mustered the funds to get dad a new setup and mattress.
Then one night in October, dad tried to get out of bed. He couldn’t. He collapsed on to the ground, and couldn’t stand up on his own. Mother quickly called an ambulance as my dad cried for help.
Fully paralyzed from the hips down, dad underwent full-body imaging in the hospital while my mom, sister and I patiently awaited. Then, we heard the words no one ever wants to hear: “He’s got cancer.”
What was once dismissed as stress two months prior, actually turned out to be terminal non-Hodgkins b-type lymphoma. His cancer was so advanced, he had tumors wrapped around his spine that left him paralyzed.
Then, shock and utter denial sank in. What to do next? How do we move forward? How can we miraculously get dad healthy again and back to his chipper self? He’s supposed to be immortal, right? We were stuck in a dizzying limbo between delusion and a harsh reality.
Since treatment was not an option, efforts were focused on minimizing dad’s pain. He couldn’t work any longer, so that meant that money stopped coming in. We quickly realized we didn’t have money to pay next month’s rent, so we had no choice but to give our 30-day notice to the landlord not knowing where we were going to live in a month. And that’s where the plight took flight.
When your entire existence is in a state of treacherous nebulosity, it’s difficult to make any kind of decision – much less one like figuring out where you and your family are going to live. But we divvied up responsibilities to the best of our impaired ability, and I was arbitrarily tasked with figuring out where we were going to live. At 23. With no money.
Mom cared for dad full-time at the hospital; my sister earned a nominal salary in her full-time office job to bring in some kind of money; and I was juggling between finals and my part-time teaching gig, visiting my dad as often as I could while feverishly emptying our apartment and shoving things into a storage.
The 30 days go by. The same day I turn the key for our apartment, is the same exact day my dad dies. We had no dad, no husband, and no money or roof, all at the same time. Three days before Thanksgiving, and three days before mom’s birthday.
Gasp.
There was no time to grieve. We didn’t even know that was a thing. We had to focus on surviving and facing our new reality of homelessness before we even had the opportunity to process the loss of our father and husband as a family unit. We wailed in sadness, but the process of assimilating his death and all the emotions that come with it didn’t fully sink in until months later. Many months later.
There was no place large enough to host my mom, sister, and me all at once. We lived out of a backpack and survived separately, taking turns between sleeping in the car, surreptitiously spending the night at my sister’s office, or couch surfing between friends’ homes. Not the ideal scenario when you’ve just lost a loved one.
We were so broke, we didn’t even have the money to pay for dad’s funeral or cremation services. We couldn’t get closure. He was at the morgue for more than a month until extended family was able to chip in to help, and his burial ceremony finally took place a few days after Christmas just before the New Year’s holiday. Superb timing.
Four months later, thanks to the angelical intervention of a local non-profit organization, we were able to secure enough money for a deposit and monthly rent at a place we could afford: government-subsidized, low-income housing (a.k.a. “the projects”).
We were destitute, but didn’t look the part. Despite not having a penny to our name, we didn’t fit the mold, and were constantly bullied and harassed. Our car was egged. Gang-related activity was the daily norm in our parking lot. My neighbor was shot and killed outside our place, and someone tried breaking into our apartment while I was home alone showering. We had a roof, but we had no peace. Turmoil since my dad’s passing was at an all-time high.
I began to resent everything and everyone. Twenty-something year old strangers for having the normal life that I yearned for. The universe for slapping us in the face with the cruel and abrupt loss of my father coupled with ensuing homelessness. And the projects for feeling like a worse alternative than being homeless.
The violent murder of my neighbor and the attempted break-in to the house was the straw that broke the camel’s back. We needed to get out after a year-and-a-half of ongoing misery.
One of my college professors became aware of our situation, and wanted to help us move to a better place. So he made me an offer: “Pauline, I want you to find a safe and calm place to live. Find out how much it’ll cost you and your family to live there. I will write you a check for the difference from what you pay now, and in exchange, I want you to teach guitar for free to the kids in the community where you currently reside.”
“Wait, what?” I thought to myself, “You want me to keep coming back to this dismal dump?” A part of me was eager to take his enormously generous offer, the other part of me was numb in abject horror. But something in my heart told me to take it, so I did.
We found a charming bungalow in a trendy, vibrant part of town; lively during the day, and serene during the night. We signed the lease, and the deal began. I started going to the community center in my former neighborhood to teach guitar every week.
I was not excited by any means. As a matter of fact, I dreaded the entire thing. These kids were surrounded by violence to the tune of gunshots. They were tough, they were angry, and they loved to mock me. And somehow I was expected to kumbaya my way into their lives with my guitar.
After a few lessons, the word started to spread quickly. I had more kids in my class than I had guitars available. Their demeanor changed. There were giggles, there were smiles, and there were kids brimming with joy at the realization that they could play guitar. I felt inspired.
Life started to gradually get better. I transferred to a four-year university and was a month away from graduating, consumed by anxiety as I prepared to enter the real world. Then I learned of a paid internship at the most iconic guitar company in the world, which I applied for along with 300 other wishful college students.
Confident in my abilities, I went for it. My phone rang, and I was asked if I could be in Arizona for an in-person interview the following week. Without flinching, I said yes.
What the recruiter didn’t know at the time was that I had $6 in my pocket; grief from the loss of my father had finally caught up with us and was full throttle; and I knew zero people in the state of Arizona. So how on Earth was I going to pull this off?
When you want something, you figure it out. So I did.
I drove across the Sonoran desert for the first time, feeling vulnerable, terrified, but full of adrenaline and with my cheerleader mother by my side.
We arrived six hours later, broke and with a sunstroke, but somehow not broken.
I walked into the guitar company’s office, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I mean, I was “just” a college student. Yet here I was, in the epicenter of rock and roll pursuing what I knew deep in my heart was already mine.
I interviewed for the position, the guitar company’s first-ever PR and social media internship (fitting for a guitarist who was majoring in journalism with a focus in PR). The interview was rigorous. It lasted all day: I was quizzed on all things guitar, did writing exams, met with several people, was taken out to lunch. You would’ve thought I was interviewing for a senior role.
Later that day, I went back to my dilapidated motel. Insecurity kicked in: thoughts of failure and abomination invaded my mind. I was narrating the day’s events to mom in unintelligible euphoria, fueled by excitement but crippled by anxiety. I thought I blew it. Mom assured me I didn’t.
I drove back to San Diego the next day feeling defeated for no reason other than the baseless thoughts inside my head… all the while mom sat peacefully knowing everything was in its right place.
So I moved on with life, and then, on a glorious Tuesday morning (yes, I remember the day), I get a 480 area code phone call:
Me: “Hello?”
Recruiter: “Hi, Pauline? It’s Michelle.”
Me: “Oh hi Michelle! how are you?”
Recruiter: “Good, good. Listen, we thought you were great at doing PR for yourself, and we know you’d be great at doing PR for us.”
Me: “Okayyyy???“
Recruiter: “So we would like to make you an offer. But you would have to start in two weeks.”
Me: Freaking out in a catatonic-like state, “Omgmgmog, YESSSS, of course.”
I had TWO weeks to graduate, figure out life, move to a new state, leave my mom and sister behind during a difficult time with the loss of my dad. I had zero money, no contacts in Arizona, and no place to live. But hey, sound familiar? Been there, done that. So bring it on!
All odds were against me, but my determination was stronger.
And then, with the graceful elegance of synchronized swimmers, the universe aligned.
A beautiful family hosted me for the duration of the internship in their gorgeous Scottsdale home. The paid internship turned into a full-time permanent position, where I traveled and met all sorts of A-list celebrities, and all my childhood guitar heroes. I moved to Scottsdale and brought my mom with me. I held different exhilarating positions within the company for more than 10 years, and finally came back home to California.
And now, more than a decade later, I look back beaming in gratitude for the incredibly fulfilling life I have built for myself… And I could have missed out on.
So how did I suddenly transform my life into a success story after what seemed to be a bottomless pit of despair?
By turning my resentment into resilience. By realizing that the traumatic events we went through with the loss of my dad were character-building and not a death sentence. And by learning to embrace hardship through the lens of gratitude.
Of course none of it came easily, because it wasn’t meant to. The harder the fall, the greater your calling – if you choose to see it that way. And the greater your calling, the more rewarding of a life you can lead.
So take a few pages from my book. Next time you’re faced with adversity, remember:
– Do not allow your current limitations to determine what your future will look like. EVER. Whether you are vibing and thriving or barely surviving, NOTHING lasts forever.
– Slow and steady wins the race. It took me EIGHT (8!) years to finish my undergraduate degree (because, hello homelessness, juggling all the jobs, etc.). Had I allowed society’s expectations to weigh down on me, I would’ve rushed through college and missed this golden opportunity waiting for me upon graduation. Yeah, I landed my dream job fresh out of college.
– Things don’t happen to you; they happen for you. Playing a victim or martyr will gain you no sympathy and certainly no respect. Lick your wounds, experience the emotions, but then venture out to the world, chin up and with relentless conviction. With the innocence of a child unaware of limitations, but with the wisdom of a wolf ready to hunt.
– Whenever you are faced with adversity, ask yourself, what am I supposed to learn from this? As counterintuitive as it may seem, honor the event, thank it, and trust that everything is part of a divine process you may not understand.
– Always show up. Even if you only have $6 in your pocket. Act like you have $10,000.
– Follow your passions, or they’ll follow you around until you acknowledge them. Make this your #1 priority. Otherwise your spirit is guaranteed to wilt.
– Love transforms everything.
– Moms are always right.
Thanks for sharing that. So, before we get any further into our conversation, can you tell our readers a bit about yourself and what you’re working on?
Portfolio reel: https://youtu.be/t1-0Ib0OCCE
Pauline France is an award-winning communications strategist and on-camera personality with more than 10 years of experience in public relations, journalism, ghostwriting, video production, internal communications, and employee engagement.
Prior to joining UC San Diego as HR Strategic Communications and Engagement Manager, France embarked on an exhilarating, decade-long career in the music industry, leading corporate public relations and internal communications for the world’s largest musical instrument manufacturer, Fender Musical Instruments Corporation.
On the journalism front, she has penned cover stories for global media outlets, including Guitar World magazine, Acoustic Guitar, Classical Guitar, and countless others.
Born in Southern California and raised in the United States and Mexico, France is fully bilingual in English and Spanish. She is the recipient of a 2010 National Association of Music Merchant’s President’s Innovation Award for exemplary work in pursuing a music career; was awarded a She Rocks Next Generation Award in 2013 from the Women’s International Music Network for being a woman in the music industry “who works tirelessly to do the right thing;” and in 2020 received an Employee Communications award from Ragan for Best Video Production.
In addition to writing, she thoroughly enjoys playing tennis and guitar, and learning new languages.
Looking back, what do you think were the three qualities, skills, or areas of knowledge that were most impactful in your journey? What advice do you have for folks who are early in their journey in terms of how they can best develop or improve on these?
I reference them in my first answer.
– Do not allow your current limitations to determine what your future will look like. EVER. Whether you are vibing and thriving or barely surviving, NOTHING lasts forever.
– Slow and steady wins the race. It took me EIGHT (8!) years to finish my undergraduate degree (because, hello homelessness, juggling all the jobs, etc.). Had I allowed society’s expectations to weigh down on me, I would’ve rushed through college and missed this golden opportunity waiting for me upon graduation. Yeah, I landed my dream job fresh out of college.
- Things don’t happen to you; they happen for you. Playing a victim or martyr will gain you no sympathy and certainly no respect. Lick your wounds, experience the emotions, but then proceed to venture out to the world again, chin up and with relentless conviction. With the innocence of a child unaware of limitations, but with the wisdom of a wolf out to hunt.
– Whenever you are faced with adversity, ask yourself, what am I supposed to learn from this? As counterintuitive as it may seem, honor the event, thank it, and trust hat everything is part of a divine process you may not understand.
– Always show up. Even if you only have $6 in your pocket. Act like you have $10,000.
– Follow your passions, or they’ll follow you around until you acknowledge them. Make this your #1 priority. Otherwise your spirit is guaranteed to wilt.
– Moms are always right.
Thanks so much for sharing all these insights with us today. Before we go, is there a book that’s played in important role in your development?
The Obstacle is the Way by Ryan Holiday – a must-read to understand how to transform hardship into opportunities.
You don’t see things how they are. You see things how YOU are. Change your perception to embrace the struggle instead of condemning it.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @guitarandpr
