Last week was the 5th year anniversary of starting the Wise Economy Workshop– my second foray into entrepreneurship and my first that didn’t stem from a lack of conventional opportunities (meaning, this time I chose this path because I wanted to). Normally, that’s a cause for celebration, or at least a Facebook announcement to solicit some of those “Like” clicks that make you feel good even though you know they don’t mean all that much.
But I didn’t. I said to myself that I had been too busy, too tired. Too something.
My business is in the middle of a pivot, a repositioning of what I do and what I offer. I added book publishing and sales, promoted myself as a speaker, built partnerships, tried to figure out ways to make money doing this work that can supplement the fee-for-services consulting that I have done for over 20 years. From an income perspective, the consulting life can sometimes feel like a particularly nauseating roller coaster, and I wanted to even out some of the plunges.
Pivots are hard. Maybe harder than even a supposed small business economic development expert realized. And certainly harder than then game plan I laid out a year ago looked like.
Entrepreneurship is hard. Am I doing the right thing? Can I trust that potential partner? What do my customers want? Do they know what they really want? (You’re supposed to ask them, but sometimes the answer they give you isn’t clear at all).
Entrepreneurship is scary. Can I pay that bill? What happens if I put that one off? How the hell am I going to pay for (fill in the blank)? What happens if…
Entrepreneurship is tiring. I finished this, but now that is overdue. The list never, ever ends. And the amount to do and the people and time you have almost never match up neatly, whether you’re on your own or managing employees. There is overwhelm and there is famine, and sometimes not much in between.
Entrepreneurship is risky. What am I giving up? What do I lose, do others lose, if I fail? We like to believe that anything is possible if you try hard enough. But a high proportion of small businesses in every field fail to see the five birthday milestone that my business has somehow stumbled across.
And entrepreneurship is lonely. You have to make the decisions. You have to put on the success mask, even when you might not feel so successful today. You can’t admit to what’s not working, what you’re scared of, the wolf that seems to pace constantly just outside your well-painted door. Even to your spouse, your partner, your friend, sometimes. They aren’t in your shoes, and trying to show them the dark places might scare them off. There’s some evidence of a higher than average rate of depression among tech startup founders. I would not be surprised if that trend covered a much broader small business population.
I’ve put a lot of thought lately into whether we as communities are really doing the right things to foster small businesses and entrepreneurs–and whether we aren’t unintentionally setting too many of them up for ugly and damaging failures. Should we tell a poor person, a young person, a retired person that they can be an entrepreneur if they just want to enough, when they may lack personal savings, family support, mentoring, and more?
What do the entrepreneurs that our community really needv– needs that we aren’t seeing because we’re allowing us to be satisfied with feel-good stories, and not truly trying to understand?
How many of our entrepreneurship success stories actually end as a small scale tragedies, with failure lost savings, broken relationships, a deeper slide into the personal and community hopelessness that the “you can do it!!!!” of entrepreneurship was supposed to overcome…
Chances are we stopped looking shortly after the happy ribbon cutting, so we don’t find out.
We probably can’t avoid entrepreneurship failures – it’s part of the deal you accept when you start a business. My suspicion is that we’re not doing enough.
But not asking the question, not paying attention to the full range of issues that differentiate successes from failures, and insisting that faith in yourself is all you need, you can do it if you just try hard enough…
I am pretty sure now that this is not enough.
If entrepreneurship matters, if healthy small businesses matter, if local ownership and investment matter, if economic opportunity for the historically disadvantaged through self-employment and minority-owned small business matter, then singing our favorite songs from Sesame Street while tossing around a little money and some how-to-start-a-business classes is not enough. Nowhere near enough.
And that’s not a plea for more money. The answers to small businesses’ needs are not all found in a pitch prize or a program grant. And money without a sound underpinning can make the fall only that much harder if and when it comes.
I’m in an ideal situation. I have a business with low costs, plenty of education, a household such that we will not starve when I have a bad month, good health insurance, a good credit score, friends, family… Not to mention a huge ego and an abnormal level of self-assurance.
And even with all those considerable advantages, I have bad months. I struggle. I get scared. I wonder if I made the right choice. I doubt.
Imagine the situation I would be in if a few of those advantages were missing.
Entrepreneurship is also thrilling, exciting, empowering, and deeply self-actualizing. On a deep, personal, fundamental level, I’ve been happier in the past 5 years than I ever was before that, because I can feel and see my own self moving into my potential, the potential that was there for a long time but got truncated and stuffed behind an employers’ priorities. In a strange way, that’s a gut-level peacefulness that I didn’t start to realize until I took that brave (and, truthfully, kind of naive) step 5 years ago. For the people whose guts cry out to be entrepreneurs, that is probably the most powerful intrinsic motivation. And it’s what keeps you going through the lean times and the doubt and the fear.
We say that we value entrepreneurs and small businesses, that we want them to grow and prosper in our communities, for a bunch of reasons. But we don’t act on it very well.
We have to do that work of supporting entrepreneurship and small businesses better, much better, if we are going to achieve any of those benefits.
We have to cultivate small business, the way we cultivate anything of value. Today we often do little more than throw some seed in a vacant lot (“you can do it!!!!), pass a watering can over the field once or twice (“here’s a loan!!!”), and then wonder why the garden doesn’t explode with produce. As anyone who has worked a garden knows, successful cultivating takes much, much more.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what small businesses and entrepreneurs — like me, I guess — really need if we’re going to get serious about growing that increasingly important small business sector of our local economies– you know, the ones that make most of the new jobs and all that. But I’ve been putting off writing that down until I got some other projects out of the way.
Maybe I need to move that up the list. For myself as much as anyone else.