From the Desktop of Gordon Phillips, Chief Risk Officer (CRO)
Are entrepreneurs born, or made?
When my daughter was ten years old she announced her intention to start her own lemonade stand.
She had heard of other girls her age doing the same and harbored dreams of overnight riches.
I congratulated her on her decision then asked where she would get the table, the pitcher, the ice cubes, the signage and most important, the lemons?
She said she would buy them.
I asked her, with what funds?
I pointed out that she was, at present, somewhat impecunious.
She asked me what “impecunious” meant, knowing full well that my answer as always would be to go look it up in our big Websters home dictionary and not on her phone.
Only homeschooled children can understand cruelty such as this!
Upon returning my daughter firmly announced that she would “do some chores” to earn the money.
I asked, “How will you know how many chores to perform, and for what amount of payment per chore, until you know the total cost of starting your enterprise?”
She groaned and headed off to look up “enterprise,” then returned after a secret meeting with her mother to inform me that it would cost $50 to launch her new business.
I asked whether she had considered taking out a loan?
I explained that a loan would get her lemonade business off the ground immediately, however she would need to repay the loan with interest.
I explained that when someone loans you their money, you have to return with a little something extra for their time and effort.
She asked, “Why can’t they just let use their money out of the goodness of their heart?”
Knowing this would require a weekend seminar on laissez faire capitalism, I pulled $50 out of my wallet, handed it to her with a smile and said, “Go for it, kiddo.”
The following Saturday afternoon I saw my daughter in adorable pigtails with her table set up at the front edge of our lawn.
She had drawn some large “LEMONADE HERE!” signs complete with smiley faces.
On the table was a huge, overstuffed teddy bear.
Smart kid.
She was getting a handle on marketing already.
A few cars had pulled over and several adults were standing in front of her table.
Next to a large pitcher of lemonade was a small wicker basket overflowing with $1 and $5 dollar bills.
As dinnertime neared and business began winding down, I congratulated her on a successful launch.
She beamed with pride and thanked me again for the loan.
I told her she didn’t need to repay it after all, that it was a grant from our family program for emerging entrepreneurs.
I didn’t have the heart to make her walk into the house and look up “entrepreneur,” so I explained it to her on the spot.
She said she understood then asked, “What about the interest I owe?”
I told her that it would require weekend emptying of my office wastebasket accompanied by a big hug each time.
Her reply: “How many weekends?”
It was at this moment that I knew the fire had been lit.
An entrepreneur was born.