Standing on a makeshift stage in the elementary school cafeteria, I smelled sour milk and heavy-duty bleach as parents took turns yelling at me about everything I was doing wrong.
Thank you for the honesty of the telling and the passion for the project. About 50 years ago, as my boys headed for ‘big school’ I approached the all-day daycare centre they went to so that I could work in an office, about starting an after-school program. They already had the space and the staff. We polled the parents and the kids. What would the parents expect; what would the kids love? We built our programming around it. The kids included that they should be allowed to have friends visit and to go on play dates with kids who weren’t in the program. We built that in. It was a great success and the day care services provider incorporated it into their offers elsewhere. And I scored an accademic credit in my MSW focussed on community organizing.
Dr Rabbi Teacher Principal CEO idea man, you know just what to do in this crazy help needing world. Not without your copilot of course. Another cool cool story, thank YOU for sharing.
My mother had a tiny chair. She used it in the kitchen to stand on to reach the things that were beyond her reach. Funny that the original fund raising put your proposed program beyond your reach.
My small chair moment as an adult came when I ŵent to work as a camp nurse at m best friend's camp. She didn't own the camp, she just thouggt she did. She was a senior counselor there and had been a camper there.
I created a first aid kit for every unit. I was giving my talk to the counselors and encouraging them to bring the kit on hikes. She said in an obnoxiously blustery way, "We don't need kits, just a few bandaids!!"
I was so shocked that the very person who had brought me had shot me down and undermined my credibility the first chance she got. I stopped talking. I wanted to disappear. And I had committed to the whole summer!!
I made it a policy to go to each unit at least once a week to replenish the 1st Aid kits. I was always kind to the counselors and kids on my visits. I made some wise decisions like sending a child home who had a high fever. She broke out in chicken pox when she got home!! And when someone was sick and became a guest at the infirmary, I made sure they were ok. I asked if they wanted anything almost every time they moved. This gave me a reputation for never sleeping.
By the end of the summer one counselor stated, "You're more than a nurse. You're our friend!"
Mark I remember a similar meeting at my school - the auditorium was filled with not so happy parents. Within minutes you had them in the palm of your hand! Your program was transformational and was one of my early "wins" as a new school administrator.
Serena! I didn't know you were a subscriber. OMG yes, thank you so much for your support over the years. The apology tour visit at your school at least got me into comfier auditorium chairs.
Early in my military career I was an Aide to a General Officer. After accompanying him to a meeting of his peers (all of the Aides attended) the General asked me what zi learned. I started recounting what each of his peers had said during the meeting. He stopped me and advised, “pay less attention to what they said, and more attention to where they put their money.” It taught me to watch what people do, not what they say, to learn what is important to them.
Such a powerful piece, Mark. The part that really resonated with me was when you wrote: "We planned to open in four elementary schools. Twelve signed up. It never occurred to me to say no."
That line captures everything about the early days of building something. It’s this incredible mix of grand ambition and deeply believing in your vision, but it's also total naiveté and a healthy ego. You think you can handle anything because the momentum is so exciting, so saying "no" doesn't even register as an option.
I’ve had so many of those exact experiences myself building New Roots Institute. You take on way too much out of pure enthusiasm, which ultimately leads to unhappy stakeholders, a firehose of tough feedback, and experiences that just aren't great for the people you are trying to serve.
In our world, navigating that messy growth is exactly why we had to codify core DNA strands like Humble Self Awareness and Ready Adaptation. It takes a lot of ego bruising to look at the feedback, whether it’s from angry parents in a cafeteria or your own organization's impact metrics, and admit your original playbook isn't working. True growth only happens when you update your perspective and optimize your approach based on that reality.
Sitting in that tiny first grader chair, dropping the defensive excuses, and leaning directly into accountability takes immense maturity. Thank you for writing this, it’s a beautiful reminder of what it actually takes to see past our own egos and grow as leaders.
Mark, I want to apologize for my criticism of your tiny chair story. I was all in my head and left my heart out in the cold. I did have many years of community childcare provider experience and I know how difficult community parents can be. I admire your ability to sit down with them and have your tiny chair moment. It was clearly effective with them, and as you can see, it was clearly effective with me. This is my tiny chair moment. I hope you will accept my apology.
Perhaps my favorite of all of your posts. There are few times in life where you as “naked” as the founder of a business attempting to disrupt an industry. The risks are high - and it’s all so public.
As one of your initial investors, there was never a doubt that you would pour 100% of your heart and soul into this - and as a bonus, we got Trish’s brain too!! Smart investors bet on the jockey… and you were a darn good bet.
Congratulations on surviving the inevitable “rough” start and building an amazing business enhancing the lives of what is now probably literally millions of children. A true (and rare) Win-Win!
Part of my career was as an art teacher in a private, chi-chi (sp?) boys’, 1-9 grade, day school. They wore ties and jackets and were ready to commute at the drop of a hat. The activity for that day was painting and color mixing, one of my favorite things to do. I explained primary, secondary, tertiary colors. Then I went into middle tones where you muddy colors and keep adding until you get what you want. I was an oil painter which explains my enthusiasm, but I can assure you we had no oils. Poster paints in gallon jugs was medium of choice. I hauled a gallon off the shelf and said, “Are ya ready?” I was delighted to see anticipation in their eyes. Poster paints settle, most of the pigment is at the bottom. When I hauled the gallon from the shelf, I gave it a mighty shake. A purple geyser exploded from the jug and hit the wall.
The boys had a big laugh.
As for me, I’ll stick with primary colors, possibly secondary. But it was venturing into tertiary colors that sweetened the tweed and tied boys’ coup, for which I am humbled and a little bit smarter.
I recall a project from the mid 90’s where a small group of us fully grasped the importance and magnitude of what we trying to accomplish, while senior management did not share our vision. Rather than debate our position purely with emotion, we surveyed our key customers as well as some early supporters and got testimonials from them. We then presented these stories and examples, along with our strategic plan, which helped get our campaign approved.
Thank you for sharing. I have enjoyed reading your articles as they are open, honest, and tell it as it is. I have had moments such as this, where I am hopeful about my ideas and plan, that I think will be successful - only to be told it sucks. It is the most humbling and frightening feeling. However when I take the small chair moment, humble myself and admit to my mistakes, apologies, and sincerely show and make the effort of correcting the situation, people are more understanding, or at least some of them, lol.
Thanks for sharing Mei. I so agree with your "humbling and frightening" turn of phrase. And let's hear it for those who are understanding of our mistakes.
Thank you for the honesty of the telling and the passion for the project. About 50 years ago, as my boys headed for ‘big school’ I approached the all-day daycare centre they went to so that I could work in an office, about starting an after-school program. They already had the space and the staff. We polled the parents and the kids. What would the parents expect; what would the kids love? We built our programming around it. The kids included that they should be allowed to have friends visit and to go on play dates with kids who weren’t in the program. We built that in. It was a great success and the day care services provider incorporated it into their offers elsewhere. And I scored an accademic credit in my MSW focussed on community organizing.
Dr Rabbi Teacher Principal CEO idea man, you know just what to do in this crazy help needing world. Not without your copilot of course. Another cool cool story, thank YOU for sharing.
How did it turn out, the project/mission?
You have identified for me what I have been wrestling with for some depth of time now: that the humility of the moment is the victory.
My mother had a tiny chair. She used it in the kitchen to stand on to reach the things that were beyond her reach. Funny that the original fund raising put your proposed program beyond your reach.
My small chair moment as an adult came when I ŵent to work as a camp nurse at m best friend's camp. She didn't own the camp, she just thouggt she did. She was a senior counselor there and had been a camper there.
I created a first aid kit for every unit. I was giving my talk to the counselors and encouraging them to bring the kit on hikes. She said in an obnoxiously blustery way, "We don't need kits, just a few bandaids!!"
I was so shocked that the very person who had brought me had shot me down and undermined my credibility the first chance she got. I stopped talking. I wanted to disappear. And I had committed to the whole summer!!
I made it a policy to go to each unit at least once a week to replenish the 1st Aid kits. I was always kind to the counselors and kids on my visits. I made some wise decisions like sending a child home who had a high fever. She broke out in chicken pox when she got home!! And when someone was sick and became a guest at the infirmary, I made sure they were ok. I asked if they wanted anything almost every time they moved. This gave me a reputation for never sleeping.
By the end of the summer one counselor stated, "You're more than a nurse. You're our friend!"
Mark I remember a similar meeting at my school - the auditorium was filled with not so happy parents. Within minutes you had them in the palm of your hand! Your program was transformational and was one of my early "wins" as a new school administrator.
Serena! I didn't know you were a subscriber. OMG yes, thank you so much for your support over the years. The apology tour visit at your school at least got me into comfier auditorium chairs.
Early in my military career I was an Aide to a General Officer. After accompanying him to a meeting of his peers (all of the Aides attended) the General asked me what zi learned. I started recounting what each of his peers had said during the meeting. He stopped me and advised, “pay less attention to what they said, and more attention to where they put their money.” It taught me to watch what people do, not what they say, to learn what is important to them.
Such a powerful piece, Mark. The part that really resonated with me was when you wrote: "We planned to open in four elementary schools. Twelve signed up. It never occurred to me to say no."
That line captures everything about the early days of building something. It’s this incredible mix of grand ambition and deeply believing in your vision, but it's also total naiveté and a healthy ego. You think you can handle anything because the momentum is so exciting, so saying "no" doesn't even register as an option.
I’ve had so many of those exact experiences myself building New Roots Institute. You take on way too much out of pure enthusiasm, which ultimately leads to unhappy stakeholders, a firehose of tough feedback, and experiences that just aren't great for the people you are trying to serve.
In our world, navigating that messy growth is exactly why we had to codify core DNA strands like Humble Self Awareness and Ready Adaptation. It takes a lot of ego bruising to look at the feedback, whether it’s from angry parents in a cafeteria or your own organization's impact metrics, and admit your original playbook isn't working. True growth only happens when you update your perspective and optimize your approach based on that reality.
Sitting in that tiny first grader chair, dropping the defensive excuses, and leaning directly into accountability takes immense maturity. Thank you for writing this, it’s a beautiful reminder of what it actually takes to see past our own egos and grow as leaders.
Thanks for writing, Monica. Good call: "Pure enthusiasm" often leads to unhappy stakeholders.
Mark, I want to apologize for my criticism of your tiny chair story. I was all in my head and left my heart out in the cold. I did have many years of community childcare provider experience and I know how difficult community parents can be. I admire your ability to sit down with them and have your tiny chair moment. It was clearly effective with them, and as you can see, it was clearly effective with me. This is my tiny chair moment. I hope you will accept my apology.
Such a beautiful story. I know things can be hard. I'm glad you didn't give up
Perhaps my favorite of all of your posts. There are few times in life where you as “naked” as the founder of a business attempting to disrupt an industry. The risks are high - and it’s all so public.
As one of your initial investors, there was never a doubt that you would pour 100% of your heart and soul into this - and as a bonus, we got Trish’s brain too!! Smart investors bet on the jockey… and you were a darn good bet.
Congratulations on surviving the inevitable “rough” start and building an amazing business enhancing the lives of what is now probably literally millions of children. A true (and rare) Win-Win!
Wonderful and insightful. Sometimes, sitting in the smallest chairs allows us to make the biggest impact.
Part of my career was as an art teacher in a private, chi-chi (sp?) boys’, 1-9 grade, day school. They wore ties and jackets and were ready to commute at the drop of a hat. The activity for that day was painting and color mixing, one of my favorite things to do. I explained primary, secondary, tertiary colors. Then I went into middle tones where you muddy colors and keep adding until you get what you want. I was an oil painter which explains my enthusiasm, but I can assure you we had no oils. Poster paints in gallon jugs was medium of choice. I hauled a gallon off the shelf and said, “Are ya ready?” I was delighted to see anticipation in their eyes. Poster paints settle, most of the pigment is at the bottom. When I hauled the gallon from the shelf, I gave it a mighty shake. A purple geyser exploded from the jug and hit the wall.
The boys had a big laugh.
As for me, I’ll stick with primary colors, possibly secondary. But it was venturing into tertiary colors that sweetened the tweed and tied boys’ coup, for which I am humbled and a little bit smarter.
I recall a project from the mid 90’s where a small group of us fully grasped the importance and magnitude of what we trying to accomplish, while senior management did not share our vision. Rather than debate our position purely with emotion, we surveyed our key customers as well as some early supporters and got testimonials from them. We then presented these stories and examples, along with our strategic plan, which helped get our campaign approved.
Thank you for sharing. I have enjoyed reading your articles as they are open, honest, and tell it as it is. I have had moments such as this, where I am hopeful about my ideas and plan, that I think will be successful - only to be told it sucks. It is the most humbling and frightening feeling. However when I take the small chair moment, humble myself and admit to my mistakes, apologies, and sincerely show and make the effort of correcting the situation, people are more understanding, or at least some of them, lol.
Thanks for sharing Mei. I so agree with your "humbling and frightening" turn of phrase. And let's hear it for those who are understanding of our mistakes.
Life is hard sometimes, scary sometimes, funny sometimes but it can always change hopefully for the better!
Blessings and 3 cheers !!