Dear Mom and Dad, Thank You for Forcing Me to Make Recession Lemonade

Dear Mom and Dad,

I thought my life was over when I learned we couldn’t come up with the money for my remaining year at [Insert prestigious university]. It seemed unfathomable that both of you could lose your jobs, and as a consequence, the home I had grown up in. But surely the institution that I poured my hard work, time, energy, and creativity into through my classes, work-study positions, and lab research wouldn’t turn their back on me in my time of need. Somehow I’d be able to graduate. What’s an extra $25,000 in financial aid, I thought, when you’ve got an endowment the size of [Insert same prestigious university]? But that endowment was based heavily on Madoff money, I soon discovered. So I was toast.

While I could have returned home to sulk or go to a state school, to me the choices were one in the same, I decided to put into practice the ole saying you raised me on. If life was going to give me lemons, gosh darn it, I was going to make lemonade. That lesson worked for me in second grade when I started the lemonade stand to raise my half of the $500 necessary to go on my class field trip to Washington, DC. Over a decade later, older and hopefully wiser, I was ready to put your sagacious words it into practice again.

So I stayed on campus during what should have been the fall of my senior year, crashed in [Insert a Transcendentalist poet’s last name]’s dorm room, convinced Professor [Insert polysyllabic German name of your choosing] to let me stay on part-time at the Solar Energy Institute (SEI), and launched my new and improved lemonade business out of [Insert same Transcendentalist poet’s last name]’s kitchenette.

Turns out there was a big market on campus for Recession Lemonade. Everyone thought it was the [Insert name of a cheap college alcohol] that made it so slamming. I knew it was really the sprigs of lavender. But I digress. I got so many orders it was hard for me to put in my time at the SEI. And by Halloween, I knew I had to choose. It was the Hooch or the PV’s. It wasn’t a hard choice.

While everyone from President Obama to Goldman Sachs claimed to be sweet on solar, truth was, the funding just wasn’t sustainable yet. I was going to have to do something, and fast, to pay back the $75,000 debt I’d amassed on route to my non-existent degree. And I had to figure out a way to sock away money for your eventual long-term care since you cashed in what was left of your respective 401(K)s to start again.

Sorry, by the way, I haven’t been out to [Insert lyrical adjective and synonym for house or garden] to visit. I hope you understand, [Insert name of European city]’s school, [Insert three disparate extracurricular activities- I suggest belly dancing, lacrosse, and stained glass class] keep [Insert first name of your favorite Charles Dickens character] and I very busy. But we all love you madly and will plan a family reunion soon!

As I was saying, I spent the rest of what would have been my senior year hawking my booze and hiring, training, and supervising reps on other local campuses to increase my client base. I learned a lot simultaneously wearing the hats of boss and manager; chiefly that product loyalty works better with clients than employees. I had to let go of half my staff in the first month due to their constant inebriation. Fortunately, I discovered by Spring Break that recruiting from [Insert name of some campus group that doesn’t drink. There’s got to be one that exists. Don’t give up] club put a halt to my previously high turnover. I was back in business.

One of my best customers at [Insert public university in town of prestigious university of your choosing] took a shining to the burgeoning company. And me. Not necessarily in that order. [Insert name of favorite deciduous tree] said his dad was in angel funding and asked if I had a business plan he could show him. I knew the offer was just an attempt to get my Lemonade and me into his room. But I friended him on Facebook nonetheless, figuring his connections could come in handy one day when I was ready to transition into a more long-term venture. I hoped it would be one that made the kind of social impact I’d intended when I declared my major in Environmental Engineering four years back.

Well as you both know, that day came less than two years later. After THE INCIDENT, you know when [Use your imagination here. Really, don’t just think outside the box; get rid of the box all together], I knew Recession Lemonade had run its course. With the exception of $20,000 I’d managed to put away, I was back at square one. I vowed my days as an entrepreneur were over. After a brief sojourn home to regroup, I moved cross-country and in frighteningly little time found a 9-to-5 job at [Insert name of any large corporation you suspect will make it through 2010 or 2011]. They loved my entrepreneurial instincts and promoted me to manager shortly after my first evaluation, allowing me to double my monthly student loan payments, take advantage of the new first-time home buyer incentives to purchase a condo, make the maximum possible contribution to my Roth IRA (while I had a corporate pension I’d learned from you I also wanted my own external retirement account), and volunteer on the board of [Insert name of innocuous nonprofit agency].

Life was fine. Everything was fine. Each Monday looked remarkably like the previous Friday. I started to miss the old days. The elation of a new customer. Managing the books in my PJ’s. Always musing on how to make my product better. I’d finally found stability, but less than two months shy of my quarter-life birthday I was bored and lonely. I had gone on two dates since I left [Insert same prestigious university] and both were as scintillating as [Insert something painstakingly dull, like watching grass grow].

I now understood that while security was a core value of mine, so was maintaining a sense of accomplishment and making a contribution. At the time I was one for three. Because my company offered tuition reimbursement, I decided that while I was no longer interested in a college degree I could benefit from a business class. Or two. I’d learned a lot from running my own business, but I had been much better at working in it than on it. I wanted to know how to create a socially conscious start-up with the potential to scale quickly. My new venture needed to be able to run without me and provide some kind of juicy, currently unsatisfied service or product to clients.

I’d been waking up nightly that first semester back in school, stuck on questions like How do I launch other values-driven leaders to sustainable success? How can I connect young people with great ideas to senior leaders with the money and power to bring those ideas to fruition? How can people from around the world collaborate on starting and growing businesses that achieve a triple bottom line? The answer hit me a week before midterms, while gorging on deep fried [Insert favorite fruit or candy bar]. I would be the grand dame of an online social networking site for emerging social entrepreneurs and social venture capitalists. You know, online pseudo face-to-face speed networking between do gooders and those who want to fund them.

I updated my [Insert name of your favorite online social media site] status indicating that entrepreneurial brilliance had hit and, as I suspected would happen, my old friend [Insert same name of favorite deciduous tree] put me in touch with his dad. He was married at this point, both [Insert name of same favorite deciduous tree], and his dad, but we’d kept in touch and father and son asked for nothing more than [Insert % you think is fair] of the company within the first 5 years because they both believed so fully in its vision and mission. The rest is, as [Insert name of favorite liberal media outlet] said in their recent feature on me, herstory.

Mom, dad, I know none of my success and immense professional and personal satisfaction would have happened had I pursued my original life plan. It was what I thought I should do rather than what I felt called to do. With the exception of letting me come home and drink myself silly for a week after THE INCIDENT, you’ve never rescued me, but rather, let me find my own path and make my own mistakes. And as a consequence, my own discoveries. I’m privileged in so many ways, chiefly to have you as parents.

It’s almost [insert name of favorite holiday rooted in gratitude], and I’m just overwhelmed by how swimmingly my life has turned out. Thank you both, again, for empowering me to learn from your choices and for creating the space I needed to forge the life I was born to live.

Appreciatively yours,
[Insert name of any millennial that is getting a good kick in the tuchus right now]