Skip to main content

Startup Day 304

When I was in college, I applied for a scholarship and my faculty interviewer said, "this is a really competitive process. If you don't get the scholarship, be upset for a nanosecond and then refocus yourself and move on." For anyone who's known me since childhood, it'll come as no surprise that I wasn't accustomed to failure. In my mind, that scholarship was already mine. Turns out I needed the professor's advice. I didn't get the scholarship and I was upset yet there were more important things for me to focus on.


Fast forward to last night. I got my first opportunity to pitch Empowered Together to an audience. Despite a strong presentation, I/Empowered Together didn't win the pitch competition. I allowed myself a nanosecond of disappointment and then got back in the game. There was still a whole evening of networking ahead of me. Honestly, I walked away with things that are even more invaluable as I build the business: contacts and offers of warm introductions. Plus Empowered Together topped the audience's poll of Importance of the Problem (yes, I agree!) and got the highest marks for how clearly the problem was described.

I also received helpful feedback on why I didn't win the competition. That helps me build a more convincing pitch and focuses my attention on strengthening Empowered Together's overall business plan. As some friends of mine say, "feedback is a gift," and failure can be the strongest mechanism for gathering feedback.

Note: I use the term "failure" throughout this post. That term doesn't have the same pejorative connotation for me that it used to. Normalizing the value of failure is something my Dad tried to do for me growing up and I'm grateful, decades later, that I finally "get it." Thanks, Dad.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Rare Disease Day 2024

Today's Rare Disease Day. There's sometimes a particular weightiness to life with a rare disease. All the appointments, emergencies, traumas, doctors, therapists, medicines, opinions, schedules and upset schedules. My touchpoint is being mom to my precious girl with Wiedemann-Steiner Syndrome  (WSS). You'd have to spend a day or week shadowing me to know what it's really like. Doesn't that sound alienating? As though you couldn't possibly imagine if you're not living it? Well, maybe. But think about a time of immense grief you've lived through, or a time when your world seemed to be falling apart around you and it felt like everyone else was completely unaffected. I suppose it's a bit like that. You might have thought that those around you couldn't possibly know how that experience felt to you. A couple weeks ago, I started keeping a list of all the extraordinary things that happened in my life due to my daughter's rare disease. I learned a c...

Startup Day 875: piloting in New Haven

Iteration is emblematic of startups. For example: From last year's pilot , we learned that parents and adults with disabilities were looking for recommended resources.  We built the Empowered Together app and tried crowd-sourcing those recommendations.  In our New Haven pilot, we're bringing database building in-house by listing accessible food, arts, and recreational businesses in greater New Haven.  Thankfully, we have thought partners in this endeavor at the City of New Haven and at community disability orgs. We are working with a Quinnipiac student and awaiting word on additional grant funding. We're taking the right next step in changing the social system to be accessible and inclusive of People with Disabilities.

How I Got a Blister from a Cowbell

The bullhorn sounded and he was off, swimming his heart out, across a 50m stretch of lake as deep as his arm is long. My youngest, William, competed in his third year of the  Race4Chase  triathlon in August. When we first applied, I reflected on how I hoped this triathlon camp would allow Will to do something that was entirely his. It would be an opportunity to spread his wings apart from his sister's influence. For siblings of kids living with disabilities, this kind of autonomy is life giving. Back at the lakeside, I was watching Will from a distance and ringing a cowbell like no ones business. Will ran up from the waterfront and we cheered him on. He transitioned to the bike portion and we cheered him on. When he came into view at the end of the bike and transitioned to the run, the final segment of the race, we cheered him on. All the while, that cowbell was clanging. When Will sprinted across the finish line, there was no stopping him (or the cowbell). Thinking about...