Beyond The Corner Office

Two weeks after my birth I was christened Margaret Mary; at the age of twelve, in a moment of religious fervor, I added Theresa as my confirmation name.  Margaret Mary Theresa.  With a name like that I was destined to be either a fiery redheaded rebellious, hell-on-wheels adolescent or a demure, mousy-brown-haired, goody-two-shoes type of kid – no in-between.  Darned if I didn’t turn out to be that shy, quiet, good kid; one of the brainy kids in my small town school.  I missed a lot of good times because of that.  To make matters worse, I had matchstick thin legs that were a perfect fit for my skinny, pencil-thin figure and perched on my nose were unfashionable pink glasses – a geek before the term was born.

By the time I left my little burg for college, I was fed up with Margaret Mary, ready for a complete makeover, wanting desperately to be a different me.  Over time contact lenses replaced the glasses, an eating campaign of five meals a day added pounds, enabling me to break the 100-pound barrier and add a curve or two, my cute little dresses were stored away in favor of slacks, and I began practicing a variety of flirting techniques in the mirror and occasionally on a real guy.  Ah yes, I also changed my name – out with Margaret Mary and in with Duffy.  Okay, so it wasn’t the best choice of names and I hadn’t considered that I would be called Duffy for the remainder of my adult life.  To the ears of an eighteen-year-old, Duffy, sounded fun-loving, cute, and a bit sexy.

Sometimes, even after all this time, the confidence fades and that shy, awkward Margaret Mary Theresa shows up.  And darned if a bit of her wasn’t there at the first meeting of the group.  I wondered how an entrepreneur might fit into this assembly of corporate women.  After all, hadn’t they all worked together at AT&T for most or all of their careers, lunched with each other and shared the thrill of promotions or exotic business trips, and, on the bad days, the painful frustration of working for an inept boss or getting assigned to a loser of a project.  While I, needing to spread my business wings and be master of my own sink-or-swim venture, had left the corporate world of AT&T eighteen years earlier to seek my fortune as an entrepreneur.

Being an entrepreneur was in my genes.  My father and his father and my maternal grandfather were all independent business owners.  Periodically, someone will comment to me that I was brave to leave the safe haven of a big company and venture into the turbulent and, though they are too polite to say it - much less prestigious arena of small business.  It wasn’t bravery; it was tunnel vision.  I just knew that I wanted to run my own company.  For several years before I made the move to leave AT&T to start my own business, the glorious Holy Grail of being a business owner blazed before me.  But those years passed with no action, causing a number of lectures to myself about procrastination.  Then, eureka!  The kick in the proverbial butt – AT&T initiated the first of their downsizing efforts, the first of many that would come over the next fifteen years.

Downsizing and right-sizing became common place in the late-1980’s and 1990’s, but at this point-in-time, it was foreign and strange – many people stayed with one company for years and often for their entire work life.  Despite a healthy financial incentive to leave, managers all around me were shrinking from the thought of giving up their hard won positions, while I, wild with enthusiasm, rushed to sign the documents, thinking that fourteen good years in the corporate world was enough.  Heady with anticipation, I went home to tell my husband of the new direction in our lives.  Both of us had visions of different careers, and fortunately I’m married to an understanding man who laughed that I beat him out the door.

AT&T, which trained its people well, was a wonderful place for a young person in the early 1970’s to learn about business.  Data processing was in its infancy then and being hired as a systems programmer I was given an opportunity to hold responsible positions early in my career.  Enjoying change, I moved around the company and over the years managed a variety of projects and led groups in information systems, engineering and marketing.  With each job change came new skills, business acumen and knowledge.  My last position at AT&T was in the marketing department as the Division Manager of General Business Systems, translate small business.  It was especially appropriate for the direction my career was taking and provided me an extra dose of self-assurance.

So, as I launched my entrepreneurial quest, I was exuberant, loaded with confidence and energy.  After evaluating several business ideas, I settled on putting together a private women’s club.  This would be a place where professional women could gather for exercise, grooming, dining, a cocktail and good conversation with like-minded women.  I labored on this project for months raising the necessary capital (convincing bankers, finding investors, etc), forming a membership and creating financial statements by the truckload.  Over the months my enthusiasm waned as I slowly faced up to the realization that it just wasn’t going to work.  Location was critical and the right one couldn’t be found.  I also became convinced that women, although they loved the idea of their own sanctuary, were too busy with careers and raising families to have the time and the money for the luxury of a private club.  And most importantly, it was wrong for me; a club focuses on meeting personal needs for individuals, whereas I was learning that my strengths and preferences lie in the business-to-business world.

The lessons learned from my efforts would be invaluable in the future and I now consi