A Conversation About Hoteliers and Stereotypes

It was one of those rare, quiet moments at work, an evening tea break with a small group of colleagues. The day had been long, filled with endless tasks, guest requests, and last-minute challenges, but for a brief few minutes, we all paused to breathe and share a cup of chai.

As the steam rose from our cups and the office chatter softened, the conversation naturally turned personal. Someone joked, “You know, sometimes I feel like people outside this industry have the weirdest ideas about what we actually do.”

A nod of agreement rippled through the group. “Totally. My own family thinks I just spend my days chilling in air-conditioned lobbies, making sure the flowers look pretty.”

We all laughed; because it was true. But beneath the laughter was a familiar frustration.

The stereotypes about hoteliers aren’t new. They range from the harmless, “You must get so many free meals and stays!”, to the downright dismissive, “Isn’t it just serving food and cleaning rooms?” Even friends sometimes ask with a teasing tone, as if hospitality is some sort of glamorous hobby rather than a demanding career.

Behind every smile we wear is a marathon of decisions, serious board meetings, staffing discussions, budgets and forecasts, managing guest complaints, and handling emergencies no one sees. The hotel doesn’t close at 5 PM, and neither do we, even when the world around us slows down for holidays or family time.

One colleague shared how her relatives expect her to be free for family events during festival season. “They don’t realize I’m working double shifts, making sure the guests celebrate in comfort. When they’re lighting diyas at home, I’m ensuring someone else’s special day goes smoothly.”

We all nodded, sharing similar stories of missed birthdays, late nights, and the emotional toll of being on call even when off duty.

What struck me most during that tea break was how deeply we all wished to break free from these narrow views.

We don’t want pity or to be seen as mere “service staff.” We want to be recognized for the complexity of our work, the business strategy, people management, problem-solving, and creativity that go into making hospitality an art and a science.

We want our friends and family to see us as professionals who choose this path not because it’s easy, but because it’s meaningful. Because creating memorable experiences, often from chaos, is a skill and a passion.

As the tea cups emptied and we returned to our duties, I realized how important it is to tell this story, not just among ourselves, but out loud.

If we can change just a few minds, help friends and family see beyond the surface, understand the effort and heart behind the uniform, we can start escaping these stereotypes.

Until then, during each tea break, between sips and smiles, we’ll keep sharing our truths, quietly proud of the work we do and hopeful for the respect it deserves.