Do Not Wallow: Learning to Take Risks by Adam

Do Not Wallow: Learning to Take Risks by Adam - July 2016 Scholarship Essay

“Do not wallow.” When the going gets tough, you can change directions, consult with new people, adjust your goals, cut your losses and move on, but you cannot become immobile, wallowing in self-pity and inaction.

These words from Dr. Arthur Sherwood, my professor in Entrepreneurship and Innovation at Western Washington University, have carried me through challenges both in and outside the classroom.

I spent much of my academic career struggling with ADHD, figuring out how to stay focused, organized, and motivated. I lacked confidence, often staying inside, watching TV, and doing whatever else would take my mind off things. I didn’t think I could do better, so I didn’t try. I was scared to take risks, afraid if I failed that it would confirm what I already thought about myself.

As I transitioned to college, I found myself overwhelmed by my classes, the workload, honing in on what I wanted to study, navigating a new environment, and finding new systems of support. I became paralyzed and fell behind; I needed to find tools to motivate myself and adapt.

I met a life coach and was amazed by how he worked with people to overcome their fears and take ownership over their lives. He built this work into his own business, as - I learned - many life coaches do.

I discovered that my school was starting a pilot program: the Entrepreneurship and Innovation minor. The concept itself encapsulated my struggles: to identify a need and create something new to fill it. The process requires partnership, organization, and drive - the tools I needed to not only start my own business, but to take ownership over my own life.

In my first Entrepreneurship class, Dr. Sherwood assigned us a “venture project”: we had to create our own business. The idea both scared and thrilled me; I didn’t know if I could do it.

While taking this class, I also immersed myself in the artist community of Bellingham, Washington. I wrote poetry and performed stand up comedy. I met artists looking to grow and market their work. I also met other students like myself, who often felt overwhelmed and lost.

I decided to create a product line called “LiveTrue” for my venture project. I interviewed students to identify words and phrases that inspired them, and worked with local arts to turn those words and phrases into art pieces, printing them on mugs and shirts to sell. I wanted to help these artists raise funds to support their work, while also creating inspirational pieces, motivating students who saw them to live in a way that made them feel more fulfilled.

With a goal of creating six new designs and selling $200 worth of merchandise by the end of the class, I started a $1,000 Kickstarter campaign to jumpstart sales as well as to cover the costs of printing, mugs, and shirts. However, in putting together my plan, I seemed to encounter obstacle after obstacle. I needed to survey potential customers, line up dependable artists to create designs, bring awareness to the Kickstarter campaign on social media and by word-of-mouth, find the right printer, and figure out how to package and distribute the products. Though each piece seemed daunting, and I was often disheartened and frustrated when people didn’t get back to me, when I couldn’t raise enough money, or when sales fell through, Dr. Sherwood assured me this was part of the process. I wasn’t allowed to stop, to give up, to wallow. I had to ask myself: what else I could do, who could I talk to, what resources do I already have that I haven’t used yet, what other way could I look at the problem?

Even with my slowed progress, I kept moving step by step. At the end of the class, though I did not reach my sales goal, I had created one (unsold) mug and a website to sell future products on, and I had received 86 responses to the survey I sent to potential customers about what they valued in the product.

I needed to make a decision. I could continue LiveTrue, following a long road to find customers outside of the Western Washington University circle and devoting time to finding and working with new passionate artists, or I could reevaluate my goals and change direction.

I chose to put aside LiveTrue in order to begin something new. I did not take this option because I was afraid of the work ahead, though it was intimidating. I took this option because I did not believe that mugs and shirts would ultimately accomplish my goal of motivating others to live a more authentic, inspired, and fulfilling life. I knew there was a better way.

In the fall, I will be starting a podcast with my good friend, a deeply observational psychology major who applies the theories he learns in class to his everyday life. We are planning to interview students, asking them about their biggest challenges and finding commonalities. We will bring in guest experts and students to share and offer analysis so others can learn from their experiences.

In the meantime, I keep my one LiveTrue mug on my desk as a reminder to keep taking steps, no matter how small, adapting along the way as I continue to follow my passions both inside the classroom and beyond. The mug reads “heart is greater than doubt.”