Reshma Kirpalani

I was nervous driving to East Austin to meet Jese Web, the owner of Jae’Undreas hair salon. My pre-conceived notions about this area of town were doing their job well. Poverty. Theft. I hid my gear as best as I could in the back seat of my car.

Jese was the ultimate myth-buster. He was open, warm and welcoming. He had dreadlocks and a smooth singing voice.

Jese rolled quick, honeyed dreads into his customers’ hair. Even as he worked, his energy lifted the entire salon. This is an intelligent man who should be weathered from hurricane Katrina and the subsequent, uninvited relocation it required. Instead, he serves. His customers, his community and his God are on the receiving end.

By 3p.m. Jese and I are both tired and hungry. He dishes up steaming plates of sausage, beans and corn bread from his salon, selling a home-cooked Louisiana meal to his new East Austin family. Jese cooks and sells these meals daily, as a sensible solution to a tight budget. But it also creates a community, as employees and customers alike break sweet corn bread.

Before he warms himself a portion of lunch, he scoops beans and rice into a plate and hands it to me. “What you doing?” he asks when I reach for my wallet. “Uh-hu,” he says, shaking his head no. Then he asks what I would like to drink.

During our interview, I learned that Jese is an adoptive father of 10. In this economy - in any economy - that is either crazy benevolence or profound love. But, rather than surprising me, this seemed to explain this man’s quickness to laugh and sing.

When you have the unequivocal largeness of heart to choose that type of responsibility, everything else seems small in comparison. And maybe everything else – economic woes and the wants they thwart – is small.

Thank you Jese for your perspective and the tremendous story of inspiration it can be for others.