About Raf
I was born Raffie Vahak Bagrevandian.
My name reflects my Armenian heritage. For the next chapter of my business and public life, I have chosen the name Rafael Vaughn Bennett.
You can still call me Raf.
I am a first-generation American whose family came to the United States from Europe, the Caucasus, and the Levant.
For years, I spent a great deal of time thinking about which parts of my identity I inherited and which parts I could choose.
Changing my name did not erase where I came from or solve my problems.
It marked a decision to take greater responsibility for how I live and what I build next.
Thirty Jobs
I began working at twelve as a golf caddie.
Since then, I have worked in more than thirty jobs across roughly thirty years.
I have worked at McDonald's, catered events, hosted, bussed and served tables, designed advertising, worked as a graphic designer, managed restaurants, sold commercial real estate, advised students, worked in marketing and business development, managed inventory, and worked in facility operations.
Some roles ended because businesses closed, changed hands, outsourced positions, or eliminated jobs.
I left others.
I made mistakes in some.
There is no neat career path to present.
What I have instead is a broad view of work from many different levels.
I have seen how managers affect the people beneath them.
I have seen how a workplace can make someone feel capable or disposable.
I have seen beautiful environments fail because nobody took responsibility for the people inside them.
And I have seen how much one attentive person can change someone's day.
Design, Sales, Service
I earned a degree in visual communication and began my professional career in design.
Later, I moved into sales, commercial real estate, education, marketing, hospitality, management, and operations.
Each area taught me something different.
Design taught me how people experience information and environments.
Sales taught me how value is communicated and exchanged.
Hospitality taught me to pay attention.
Management taught me that standards mean little if nobody takes responsibility for maintaining them.
Operations taught me how much invisible work has to happen before something appears effortless to the person receiving it.
Those lessons now influence the kind of work I want to do.
New York to Florida
In 2018, I moved from New York to Florida for a job advising prospective students at an online university.
The position gave me the opportunity to earn an MBA, which I completed in March 2020.
Soon after, the pandemic ended my job.
The years that followed were difficult professionally, financially, and personally.
I moved, changed jobs, lost jobs, made decisions I regret, and eventually filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy in 2023.
By 2025, I was unemployed again and unsure where I was going.
I had spent years believing the next job or next opportunity might solve problems that required more responsibility from me.
That eventually became impossible to ignore.
Starting Again
In December 2025, I took a facility operations job at an athletic club.
The work was not where I expected to be at that point in my life.
It was also useful.
I cleaned, folded towels, responded to members, solved problems, and did whatever the facility needed.
I began paying closer attention to how a place affects the people inside it.
A greeting matters.
A clean shower matters.
A towel being where someone expects it matters.
Quiet matters.
The person responsible for solving a problem matters.
The experience a customer sees depends on a great deal of work they never see.
That lesson became increasingly important to me.
The Advice That Stayed With Me
Before my grandfather passed, he gave me advice that stayed with me.
His advice became part of the foundation of how I think about work, responsibility, and the life I want to build.
He had known me my entire life. He told me the way I spoke carried weight. He remembered watching me as a child crawl quickly toward a wall, only to stop myself inches before crashing into it.
Fast, but precise.
Then he gave me advice.
If I ever decided to rebuild myself, he told me to put myself in a situation I wouldn't want to remain in…
and fight my way out.
So I did.
At first, I thought getting out meant finding something better.
Eventually, I understood what my grandfather was actually teaching me.
Dignity doesn't come from the work.
It comes from the person doing it.
The fight was never against the job.
It was against the version of myself that believed I was too good for it.
What I Know Now
I do not see thirty jobs as something to hide.
I also do not present them as proof that I have mastered thirty professions.
They are simply part of the record.
What I learned across them is that I keep returning to the same kind of work:
Receiving people.
Noticing what they need.
Bringing order to a space.
Solving practical problems.
Helping people feel at ease.
And taking responsibility for the environment around me.
That is the common thread I understand now.
It is also part of what led me toward CFI.