When I was in fifth grade, my friend and I had a problem: we needed cash, probably for video games. As we brainstormed business ideas in John’s backyard, we noticed what appeared to be mistletoe growing on one of his trees. Uh, cha-ching?
An hour later, two budding horticulturists hit the streets with their wares.
Our door-to-door sales experience was a raging success. I don’t remember how much we made, but it was more than we started with. We could have earned more, but we ran out of product, and it was quitting time (my mom picked me up).
The lesson that stuck with me from that experience wasn’t the success, though—it was the dad who wasn’t impressed.
We knocked on his door, fully expecting to blow him away with our entrepreneurial zeal and well-timed offer. It was December, after all, which is objectively mistletoe season.
But I remember him critiquing the bundles and the fact that the remaining ones had berries that were more green than white. A bit less festive, I guess. He prodded a few bundles skeptically and muttered about us not having a higher quality product.
I was shocked. Didn’t the Dubious Dad see how adorable we were? Didn’t he realize that his one job was to enthusiastically toss us a few pesos in support of a local black-owned business? We were kids!
I don’t think he bought anything that day, but the lesson he gave me was far more valuable: our work product has to stand on its own merits.
It’s easy to convince ourselves that people should buy from us because we want them to, but busy strangers are sometimes impervious to our charm and desire to relieve them of their discretionary funds. For many of us, that means we just have to try harder.
Willie Jackson helps teams and organizations find harmony. He brings compassion and levity to the challenging work of