When I was little, my family had an unofficial curb painting business. My brother and I went door to door offering to paint reflective house numbers on curbs. There are a multitude of reasons people like this including safety, faster pizza delivery, and it makes houses easier to find. It’s particularly helpful for the people in the suburbs of Kansas where houses aren’t clearly numbered.
My brother and I went door to door, working to sell the curbs. If we got a yes, my dad would paint the curb and we would all share in the profit. The profits were great, if you were able to get a yes, because your investment was only spray paint and stencils.
But it was hard work. People said NO. As cute as we were, we got a lot of nos. There was one Saturday during the summer where I just couldn’t get a person to say yes. I felt really disappointed. All my hard work earned me nothing. I went back to the car, dejected, and started to cry.
My mom said we should quit, let’s all just go back home and eat ice cream. It was enough for one day. A kid shouldn’t take this much rejection so early in life.
But my dad had a different approach, he told me:
“Every no is one step closer to a yes.”
He motivated me and provided some tips (my dad is the ultimate salesman), and after I dried my tears, I went back out. Sure enough there were more nos, but there were also yeses. Later, in high school I curb painted for extra cash, always remembering what my father had taught me.
And it’s still relevant today.
Here I am in New York, pounding the pavement with meetings, networking events, applying and interviewing, and I get disappointed. There have been multitudes of nos. I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t upset me, but I keep going, because I know that every no is one step closer to a yes. Bring it. My dad taught me well. Success is derived from failure. From not giving up.
I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for those blistering, hot summers in Kansas, knocking on people’s doors and accepting the nos and knowing that a yes was right next door.