leadership | Marvin&Company: Stories About Death And Entrepreneurship

August 17, 2020

Advisory Board

The time has come for my corporation to have an advisory board, a group of trusted professional peers I can count on to disagree with me without disrespect or hurt feelings. People who can help me maintain our trajectory of doing good things that matter with the ethics and integrity.

I work with a lot of people who thrive in leadership roles. It’s sometimes hard to believe that I might also be a strong leader, an accomplished person. Someone I would have looked up to when I was younger. The fact is that my many of my professional peers are people I sometimes can’t believe choose me as their friend or view me as their equal. It’s difficult to imagine that I am one of them.

We attract what we believe we deserve. I’ve spent too many years believing I deserved to be surrounded by people who don’t respect me or my company. I am done with that now.

I’ve been surrounded by strong women my entire life. I wish I could invite all my aunts and cousins to my board – they are the strong, accomplished, incredible women I hoped I’d grow up to be. Not to exclude men – I am blessed with many wonderful humans in my life and career. However, I am struck by the number of my professional peers who have navigated construction sites and board rooms filled with powerful men from a generation that, by and large, views our gender as a disability.

Male privilege doesn’t always announce itself with a “hey sweetie” and a slap on the ass. Sometimes it’s the perfect gentleman who addresses all his questions to my male assistant, despite my 22 years in environmental compliance and my name on the letterhead. I’ve learned to overlook it as long as the client’s checks don’t bounce, and often bring a male colleague with me for this reason. For now my solution is often to let my bruised ego take a backseat in the interest of signing new clients. Perhaps my board of strong leaders, both male and female, will find a better solution.

I believe it’s an act of incredible courage to let ourselves be vulnerable. Allowing other people to help me make decisions about my company is far outside my comfort zone, yet necessary for healthy growth. It’s time to start believing I deserve to stand beside other strong, accomplished leaders.

August 14, 2020

Chasing Rainbows

I once employed a subcontractor who had lots of opinions about how I ran my business. He was quick to point out how he’d do something better or different, and what, in his opinion, I was doing wrong. Of course this grew tiresome, but this man was good at his job and put in lots of billable hours for my company. So I would smile and thank him for his input.

It’s not that his ideas were bad. In fact, many made sense in the short term. Most of his ideas were good, just not fully formed. Do this thing, it will make money. Market yourself this way, you’ll get more clients. In his mind I was obstinate for failing to chase my company’s full potential and limiting its growth.

He had once owned a brewery which ultimately failed because, among other issues, it expanded quickly without a stable foundation upon which to rebuild should new growth become untenable. One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned as a small business owner is that just because something can make money, doesn’t necessarily make it a good investment.

Sustainable success is achieved with balance between big ideas and carefully calculated risks. Some of the best ideas can easily turn out to be rainbow chasing.

What my well-meaning colleague didn’t recognize is that going in a million different directions at once erodes the foundation upon which a company is built. A good idea only has true merit if it can be reasonably implemented without siphoning too many existing resources. If doing something new will make money, but doing the new thing means doing less of something that already makes money and already has a strong client base, that growth is not sustainable.

Even the best ideas will have setbacks in the implementation phase. This is the place where so many new businesses stumble. Ideas are great – we need a constant flow of new ideas for our businesses to remain relevant – and not all great ideas are a good idea. These two truths are not mutually exclusive. That part is really important.

August 13, 2020

Great Expectations

Growing up, my mother had high expectations. If I didn’t live up to the ever-moving target of her standards, it wouldn’t occur to her to soften the blow of her disapproval. Everything was pass-fail, no in between, no participation trophy for an honest effort. It sounds like I’m spinning a sad tale, but my mother is one of the reasons why I’m a small business owner.

From her I learned single minded focus. How to read a room and give everyone in it whatever they needed to feel at ease. Because of her, I learned to be ruthless with myself.

I have had the pleasure of working with many smart, driven, successful people throughout my career. One of them once told me I am a double edged sword. “We always know where we stand with you,” she said, “and most of the time that’s good. The thing is, you have no poker face. We all know when you’re disappointed.”

I don’t know if it was meant as a compliment, but I took it as one. My perpetually dissatisfied mother taught me to never stop moving, because nothing will ever be good enough. I don’t slow down for those who can’t keep up. Even if I want to, I don’t think I have the emotional capacity or patience. As a result, I am surrounded by high-achieving workaholics. If your feelings are easily hurt and you want bankers hours, I’m not the boss you’re looking for.

When I started my company, my business plan was simple: I know how to do some things, a few of them really well. It may be my Magnum Opus, or it could all end tomorrow. Either way, I don’t have any regrets.

Without my mother I wouldn’t have crippling anxiety or a pathological need for constant reassurance that my friends actually do like me. I also wouldn’t have been fearless enough for this entrepreneurship adventure. She taught me how to be (mostly) impervious to failure. All in all it was a fair trade.

When failure is the only air you breathe for seventeen years, it loses all its sharp edges. My success is built on a mountain of failure. How lucky I was to have learned to fail with tenacity, faith, and a little grace. I appreciate my mother for giving me that.