Virgil Robinson, Possibility Advocate, with Jamie Ellison, a personal trainer whose business he helped launch. (Curtis Cartier)
Virgil E. Robinson, a sporty, boyish-looking 42-year-old in a matching “Possibility Advocate” cap and long sleeve T-shirt, sits across from Hannah*, a recent divorcee who has been slowly losing control of her mortgage. Months ago, when the two first met, Robinson pledged that the Possibility Advocate Society would raise enough money at its record-breaking afro-wig photo shoot to pay one installment of Hannah’s mortgage. That hasn’t happened, exactly.
“I’m committed,” he tells her, as they sit across from one another at Lulu Carpenter’s in downtown Santa Cruz. “We’re here, we haven’t forgotten you.”
Hannah, whose expression is mostly hidden behind large, dark sunglasses, is shy about her situation and doesn’t want her kids knowing. But she assures him that he’s already done a lot. “I’m grateful for whatever,” she says.
Robinson’s desire to help is unpredictable in its ebullience and variety. He’s helped draft the business plan that kept the Surfing Museum open, he’s helped organize a gaming expo to fundraise for the Teen Center, and then there’s Hannah’s mortgage. On the way to Lulu’s, he picked up a hitchhiker.
About a year ago, Robinson’s help cost thousands of dollars. As a recruiter, he was making six figures helping to land plum positions for wealthy job seekers. Then last summer, after a session with a fearful client who would only be the “devil’s advocate” to every suggestion, Robinson felt himself floundering. “There were similarities: I was my own biggest critic,” he says. “Out of pure frustration I created a possibility advocate T-shirt as a reminder to myself to find ways to succeed.”
But when he donned his new shirt, Robinson said his wife of 20 years said, ӔYou look ridiculous.” I looked at her and I was crushed.” But as they strolled downtown Pacific, he was stopped at least five times by people asking about his shirt. “I realized people were into the idea of encouraging bold action. That grew into me wanting to host photo shoots, where members would do something fun and silly,” he says.
These days, Robinson says he’s out of recruiting entirely and spends all of his time working on Possibility Advocate and living off savings. The goals of a possibility advocate are roughly three-fold. First, to encourage others, no matter what. Second, to put on large photo shoots as an exercise in “laughing at oneself,” like the afro wig shoot in March or the upcoming bikini/Speedo/air mattress photo shoot, records Robinson elected to break pretty much at random. And third, to scorn the idea that one can’t make money by doing something altruistic. The society is purposely not a nonprofit, Robinson hopes someday to make a living off of his social networking site, which currently has 206 members, and his Possibility Advocate gear.
That’s not to say that the idea has been a runaway success. “I sent out invitations to 3,000 clients—that’s my Rolodex. Not a single one is a member of my site,” he says, momentarily glum. “Twenty more were sent to my friends and family, only five joined.” There have been other little failures—the signs for the mortgage fundraiser never made it to the afro wig event, and though 168 wig-wearers showed up to break the records, the day’s take fell about $1,800 short of what Hannah needed. When Robinson took what little they had raised and reinvested it in a line of postcards he marketed around Santa Cruz, he received no interest. And herein lies the paradox about Robinson: he’s just as worried about success as anyone.
“It’s a constant challenge everyday to stay positive and stay motivated,” he says. “Every day I have another member join the site it affirms what I’m doing. Like this kid Chad, he says to me, ‘I like what you’re doing.’ He said, ‘I’m homeless, but I want to help.Ҕ Robinson’s voice catches hard suddenly and his eyes tear up. “I know where he is at with his life. Being raised by a single mother with seven brothers and sisters, eating out of garbage cans, I used to sit around and wish some sage would come and say dude, you got skills, you got talent. That never happened.”
Despite any setbacks or fears, Robinson is pushing forward with Saturday’s bikini and Speedo photo shoot, a record set in 2008 by a group of 1,010 Australian models. He says this time he has a new charitable concept, a “Passion Award,” which will be a sum of money collected from donations and sales of Possibility Advocate gear. Donors will have their name placed in a hat and the winner will be drawn at random, with the hope that the winnings will be spent on a dream or idea. Robinson says 70 percent of the pot goes to the winner. Hopefully, the rest will be enough to help Hannah. “Instead of paying myself, I want to make good on the promise to Hannah,” he says. “Down the line, it’ll come back to me.”
And as for whether or not he thinks he can get over 1,010 people to break the Australian world record? “Here’s what I know—I’m going to show up. My daughters, my wife and my brother are going to show up. Other than that, I have no idea,” he says.
The World Record Bikini, Speedo, Lifeguard, Water Polo and Floating Air Bed Photo Shoot is Saturday, June 20th, at 10am at Cowell’s Beach, in front of the Dream Inn Hotel 175 West Cliff Drive, Santa Cruz. Learn more at http://www.possibilityadvocate.ning.com
Comments (0)
Post a comment
There are no comments for this entry yet.