Job not advertised
I share in my profile that my entrepreneurial journey started in 2015, but I don't think that is true. How do you know you're an entrepreneur, perhaps a better question, in a world full of entrepreneurs, how do I know it's what I should be doing.
I want to emphasise that I don't have the answer, nor is this an advice piece.
It's about feeling lost.
How I believe entrepreneurship is applying for a job not advertised but created.
The first time someone called me an entrepreneur was in 2016. My boss, Jeff, asked me to have a coffee with a quality assurance candidate who wanted to join our project in Zanzibar but was reluctant about the move and wanted to know more about the quality of life. After discussing all the generalities, I recall her asking what I do over the weekends. By then, Jeff had joined us. He chimed in. Please don't ask him. He is an entrepreneur, so he works. I felt chuffed. I had highly regarded the word, not semantical, but respect for term coupled with ignorance.
It took me years to make it LinkedIn official.
I went deep into the definition of the mythological hero who creates something out of nothing. Romantic. The person who makes things more efficient for everyone. That is a tall order.
Since 2016 I have often reflected on this time whenever I felt stuck and lost.
I was investing a lot of time to figure out the "startup of me," my why, and still do. And often unsure about the industry I wanted to work in, I wrote down the times I had to create a path. Back to basics.
In 2002 I was bullied by an older boy, 12 at the time, he slapped me off the rugby field, and I wasn't planning to continue with the sport. Telling the coaches I am done, and this is why. About a month later, the under 13 B team coach randomly asked me in passing, are you playing on Saturday? Shocked by his question, I just said yes. That same afternoon I was at practice again. Later that year, I received under 12 Western Province colours and played Cravenweek under 13 the following year. His short question changed my life. Knowing my single mother won't be able to afford boarding school in Paarl, I used rugby to get a sponsorship to go to Paarl Boys' High, a dream and goal realised that again changed my life. My closest friends to the day remain boys that I met in 2004.
It wasn't all peaches and cream in Paarl. A significant adjustment is an understatement. The school's culture shook me. The first two weeks were tears as I joined the junior hostel Werda in the second term when all the boys already knew each other and had already gone through the big school adjustment. Throughout those five years, I had to continue developing my resourcefulness to create a way, again, with tears rolling on the last matric day. How will I keep up and go to university? Get a job, move abroad, and start my own thing (still here).
After creating ways, I was still dropped from the team and flunked business management in my first year.
And 20 years later, I still often feel like that 12-year-old boy that just wanted to give up on the sideline.
Some days it only takes a yes.
Head down, small steps.
Photo by Valentin Salja on Unsplash