CHAPTER 2

Scrap the Map

My husband and I love nothing more than planning a trip, especially when motorcycles are involved. We’ll sit at our kitchen table with a map spread between us and trace various routes, thinking through possible road conditions, traffic, rest stops, and, of course, scenery. Then after more than enough debate and discussion, we select an initial route to follow.

One thing we’ve come to learn through the years is that flexibility is the name of the game on a ride. You never know how things will actually play out, and many times you need to take some different roads before reaching your destination. More often than not, these unplanned routes allow you to discover new and interesting places you hadn’t expected but fully enjoyed, maybe even more so because they were serendipitous.

The unpredictability is part of the fun if you are journey-minded. Being an explorer means going to unexpected places at unexpected times in life. This is true in our leadership journey, as well. The times when we scrap the map can take us to new opportunities we hadn’t planned on but that can be hugely rewarding if we remain open to the possibilities.

Rosalyn Sussman Yalow, for instance, followed a nontraditional road for women in the sciences that led her to a Nobel Prize. Yalow realized early in life that she wouldn’t follow a predictable path in life. Her family encouraged her to become an elementary schoolteacher, a common career track for women who grew up in the 1920s and 1930s. But Yalow dreamed of the sciences, so she took a job as a secretary for a team of biochemists at Columbia University. She was studying stenography and might never have donned a lab coat if not for the outbreak of World War II.

With thousands of men called into the military, several universities began offering opportunities to women. Yalow accepted a teaching assistantship at the University of Illinois and became the only woman in a department of about 400 people. She earned a PhD in physics around the time the war came to a close, and hoped to become a professor or researcher: but, again, those jobs seldom went to women in those days. So she landed a job at the Bronx Veterans Administration Medical Center, where she earned laboratory space and a small salary as a consultant in nuclear physics.

This detour, however, allowed her to join forces with a young doctor at the hospital, Solomon Berson. After nearly a decade of working together, they developed radioimmunoassay (RIA), an ingenious application of nuclear physics in clinical medicine to measure the concentration of countless varieties of hormones, viruses, and chemicals. RIA changed the lives of people with diabetes and hormone-related health problems, it was a catalyst to new knowledge and thinking in every aspect of medicine, and it was used in thousands of laboratories in the United States and abroad.

In 1977, Yalow became a cowinner of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for her work in the development of the RIA technique. She was only the second American woman to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine.

Yalow scrapped the map and changed the world. Had she not been detoured from her path to academics or traditional research positions, she most certainly would not have ended up in the right environment and with the right kind of research partner to enable the development of RIA. By embracing the path she found herself on, she discovered opportunities she otherwise never would have gotten. Her change in direction led her to a new destination few ever dream of—and a Nobel Prize—especially for a female scientist in the mid-twentieth century.

Rosalyn Yalow is an example of someone willing to scrap the map and find a new destination. She illustrates that success often comes from adapting to the path that’s put beneath your feet.

My Detour from the Predictable

My early professional journey also was rerouted onto what seemed the least likely path to success. Little did I know it would become the chance of a lifetime—if I could bring myself to embrace it. And frankly, embracing it was one of the most difficult struggles of my life.

The first 10 years of my career followed a relatively predictable road. There were turns, of course, but they were clearly marked. I always saw them coming, and I always knew where they would take me. I had plugged a destination into my career GPS, and I was following the prescribed route.

I graduated from college and had a single-minded focus to build a successful career in public relations. I worked in three different advertising and public relations agencies, experienced a short stint at a city tourist attraction, transitioned into corporate life, and went back to school at night to get a master’s degree.

I loved the fast pace of the industry, especially in the urban environments of Nashville and Memphis. My success made me hungrier for bigger opportunities. I wanted to climb the corporate ladder and take on greater responsibilities within a large organization, advancing as quickly as possible. Someday I would lead a communications team for a global company, or if I moved back into agency life, perhaps I would run a major office of a national public relations firm. That was my destination.

Then came the detour. At the same time that I was building my career, Raye was working hard to complete his medical training, which included medical school, residency, and a fellowship. When the time came for us to decide where he would practice, he chose an orthopedics group in the faraway northwest corner of Arkansas. Of all the choices we had, this was the one he wanted.

I was heartbroken, and I didn’t give in easily or gracefully. But I moved to Arkansas, and in doing so I eventually realized one of the most important lessons in my leadership journey: the rocky detours that take us off our plan are far more valuable to our long-term success than the paved highways.

The End of the Earth?

Raye and I moved to Fayetteville, Arkansas, in the spring of 1995 after he had finished 10 years of medical training to become an orthopedic surgeon. It was a quaint college town with fewer than 75,000 residents at the time, the home of the University of Arkansas, and several small businesses, but that was about it. Former Razorbacks football coach Lou Holtz once famously said the area isn’t the end of the earth, but you can see it from there. I was inclined to agree.

It was Raye’s decision, not mine, to move to this tiny region in the Boston Mountains, and I admit feeling challenged by the move. I had dreams of living someplace that would give me plenty of career opportunities, so I lobbied hard to stay in Memphis or go to another big city.

I posted a huge grid in our house that I used to rank every place we were considering based on a variety of criteria. Cities like Nashville and Knoxville had big stars next to them. Although we also looked at some smaller communities, Northwest Arkansas was never on our radar.

Then we got a call from a private practice in the area inviting us to visit. They were looking for a new partner and wondered if Raye would be interested. It took only one weekend for Raye to fall in love with the place. He had great respect for the partners, who had built a highly successful and growing practice. He also appreciated the abundant outdoor beauty of the region and the simple life a smaller community offered. It would take me several years to get to that same point, not just because I wasn’t sold on where we were going, but also because of what I was leaving behind.

By this time I had enjoyed three years at Embassy Suites, which was now owned by Promus Hotels and eventually would become a part of Hilton Hotels. I had just been promoted to my dream job as director of corporate communications for all of Promus Hotels’ brands (Embassy Suites, Hampton Inn, and Homewood Suites) and had the privilege of being a part of the company’s spin-off and public launch on the New York Stock Exchange. It was a heady time in the lodging industry, especially for our company, which was rapidly growing its franchises for all three brands.

I was truly sad to leave an organization that was widely known for its entrepreneurial spirit and track record of innovation. Plus, we had spent nearly a decade in Memphis building our lives, friendships, and careers. Now I was being asked to leave that all behind and move someplace I was pretty sure would offer a lot less.

I thought through all the possibilities as I tried to make sense of the impending move. I could look for work in the local business community or perhaps with the local chamber of commerce. Or maybe, just maybe, this was the time to start my own agency. That seemed the most unlikely option, but the thought never left my mind.

When the day came to tell my boss I was leaving, I slid a proposal across the desk and asked if he would be my first client. To my surprise, it took him only 24 hours to say yes. It was official. I would have a business of my own. Now I simply needed to figure out what to do next.

Hitting Restart

If you haven’t picked up on it by now, I was not happy to leave Memphis and move to Arkansas. I was so disappointed by this decision that Raye remembers I wouldn’t speak to him for quite some time, and I actually sat outside in a lawn chair in the driveway after work for three days running to avoid talking with him. The detour that took me out of the big city and off the fast track to corporate success, however, ended up putting me on the incredibly difficult but rewarding road of entrepreneurship—well ahead of my personal schedule.

Looking back, although my destination philosophy was essential in seeing me through it all, I certainly would have enjoyed it more had I done a better job of keeping a journey perspective. On the other hand, the experience also helped me reconnect with that mindset, and I began to learn the importance of being flexible and adaptable.

Regardless of where you are in your leadership journey, you need to map out a plan for where you want to go and how you will get there. But as you travel that road, know that you’ll inevitably face some detours and you may have to change destinations entirely. So keep in mind these lessons I learned when I scrapped the map and looked ahead on the road I was traveling rather than focusing on the one I thought I would travel.

1. Embrace Your Entrepreneurial Spirit

The two counties that locals refer to as Northwest Arkansas now have more than a half million people, along with many amenities you would expect from a rapidly growing area: upscale restaurants, shopping, and cultural attractions like Crystal Bridges, a world-class museum of American art.

Not surprisingly, people love to live and work in this beautiful, prosperous community, and the area’s growth statistics are impressive. The region regularly ranks near the top of lists for best places in America to live and do business. It was named the fastest-growing regional economy in the United States in 2000 by the Milken Institute and is projected to be the third-fastest growing economy by 2020 behind only Austin, Texas, and Raleigh, North Carolina.¹ And US News &World Report ranked Fayetteville number three on its list of “Best Places to Live in the USA,” behind only Denver, Colorado, and Austin, Texas.²

More than 1,500 vendor companies have satellite offices here to serve the largest customers that most of them have: Walmart and Sam’s Club. Procter & Gamble alone has more than 200 employees working from its Fayetteville office. There also is a thriving start-up community, as well as several venture capital funds and incubators that spur entrepreneurial development, particularly around retail and the impact of technology on consumer shopping patterns and practices.

In the mid-1990s, however, Northwest Arkansas was not a place most people would have considered when founding a company. The region was really more like a string of small towns about an hour north of Fort Smith, Arkansas, the closest major city. The state capitol, Little Rock, was a nearly three-hour drive, much of it through winding mountain roads (including one highway nicknamed “the pig trail”—in honor of the university’s mascot, the Razorback). You could fly in and out of Fayetteville on commuter planes, but you had to drive to Tulsa or Little Rock for something that didn’t sport a propeller. The four largest towns blended together so that you couldn’t tell when you were leaving one and entering another, unless it was Friday night and time for a high school football game.

On the other hand, entrepreneurial roots run deep in the region. Three giants in their respective industries were all founded here—Walmart Stores, Tyson Foods, and J.B. Hunt Transport Services. Tyson was founded in the 1930s, Walmart and J.B. Hunt were founded in the early 1960s, and all three companies conducted business with each other while each was growing to international prominence. Their amazing success stories are the stuff business students still study and many books have been written about. As they grew, the region grew with them. And so did my new company.

I knew at an early age I wanted to be an entrepreneur. I had always shown a penchant for figuring out how to make money, whether it was through the typical babysitting jobs every young girl had, from picking peaches to earn enough money to buy my brother’s stereo, or from setting up a gift-wrapping station in my parents’ basement to earn extra money in the days leading up to Christmas. These ventures sparked my interest in capitalism and taught me that hard work literally paid off.

But I assumed you needed to be old and wise before you could start a real company. When my opportunity came, I was neither, but that didn’t stop me from taking the leap, even if I had no idea what it would really take to succeed. Good thing. Turns out, it’s really hard. Entrepreneurship can suck the very life out of even the most optimistic and tenacious individual with a great business idea. But once you’ve tasted the freedom and rewards of entrepreneurship, it becomes an irresistible siren’s song.

I’ve founded two companies and am on my third go-around now, taking on the role of creating a new global public relations capability for my parent company. I like to build new things. Risk, high stakes, and high expectations only sweeten the deal for me.

Being a builder puts you squarely in a leadership role. Whether you’re a classic entrepreneur like me, an “intrapreneur” embedded inside a company, or someone who has simply been given an entrepreneurial assignment—rolling out a new product or opening a new market, for example—organizations need leaders with an entrepreneurial spirit.

A McKinsey study titled “How Executives Grow”³ found the five most important developmental experiences in the life of a professional were:

•   “Stepping into a new position with a large scope”

•   “Turning around a business”

•   “Starting a new business”

•   “Leading a large, high-profile special project”

•   “Working outside one’s home country”

Each of these requires the entrepreneurial spirit to succeed, as well as endless fortitude and resilience to stay the course regardless of the obstacles you inevitably face.

It is a unique privilege to create something from nothing. This is the domain of the entrepreneur: bringing a big idea to life through drive, passion, and an impeccable sense of timing. But you must be willing to listen to the relentless voice in your head that says, this needs to exist. That voice becomes the source of inspiration that compels you to take the road less traveled, and it is the decision to take the leap that defines the entrepreneur.

Embracing this entrepreneurial spirit helped me refocus my energies and lead with an eye toward the future rather than the past.

2. Learn Wherever You Are; Apply Wherever You Go

I worked for three different agencies in the early part of my career: Dye, Van Mol & Lawrence Public Relations in Nashville; Walker & Associates in Memphis; and Sossaman/Bateman/McCuddy, also in Memphis. At each of these firms, I was mentored by one or more of the founders and had the privilege of watching them all tirelessly build a business, create a culture, and leave a legacy that is still admired and respected by many.

On the outside it can look deceivingly easy, but overnight success stories like theirs are often the product of many years of hard work, much of their own personal wealth, and a determination to keep their eyes focused on where they want to end up—leaders willing to look through the turn. Each of these agencies had founders who gave all of this and more.

At Dye, Van Mol & Lawrence, I learned how growth comes not just because of the work you do, but because of the people the agency attracts. The dynamic leadership and amazing culture created by owners Hank Dye, John Van Mol, and Tom Lawrence was a strong pull for top talent that could have gone anywhere.

At Walker & Associates, the late Deloss Walker taught me about the finer points of serving clients, presenting effectively, and winning new business. Deloss also told me something that stuck with me for the rest of my career: enthusiasm and passion can go a long way to overcome lack of experience. Be the most enthusiastic person you know even when you don’t have it all figured out, and you’ll go farther faster until you do. I loved the pure optimism and determination of this philosophy, and it would serve me well when I started my own agency.

At Sossaman/Bateman/McCuddy, I watched the late Ken Sossaman’s star rise to unprecedented heights in the Memphis advertising scene because of his relentless pursuit for breakthrough creativity and learned even more about building a business, especially from working closely with Ken to build the agency’s PR competency.

Having mentors like these remarkable men gave me invaluable preparation for my entrepreneurial experience, even if my experience didn’t come when and where I had expected. Looking back, I realize that in addition to their patient teaching, they each encouraged me to follow in their footsteps. I distinctly remember both Deloss and Ken telling me I would build an agency someday: I had what it took. Years later, Hank told me he had seen the same thing. What they meant by that is anyone’s guess, but it was encouraging to know that people who had been there and done that believed I could too.

3. Focus on Relationships; Results Will Follow

The contract with Promus Hotels allowed me to get my one-person agency started, but obviously I needed more clients to build a company. To really make it work, I needed clients in this new land called Arkansas.

So once I got over sulking in my lawn chair, we packed our bags and I set my sights on making the very best of this move. I was determined to start by building business contacts. I had left a strong network behind, and I knew it would take time and plenty of work to start a new community for myself here. One of the first weeks in, I drove to the Fayetteville Chamber of Commerce, just off the town square, walked in, joined, and asked how I could get involved. That first encounter led to more than a decade of active service with the chamber, including two stints on the board of directors. It was a great way to make friends in the business community and begin meeting influential leaders, many of whom over time would also become clients and dear friends.

These relationships also led me to meet and work with others who were building the business infrastructure in the region. The business communities at the time were each led by their local chambers of commerce with occasional support from an overarching economic development group called the Northwest Arkansas Council, founded in 1990 to help the region grow.

There was not a lot of regional business development effort at that time, and frankly it wasn’t really needed. But that soon began to change as the region began expanding, and I became a passionate advocate for economic development. I was excited to be involved in the growth of major initiatives such as Arkansas Venture Forum and Accelerate Arkansas, both of which were focused on driving the growth of knowledge-based industries in the state. I served as one of the few female leaders on the executive committee of the Northwest Arkansas Council and was a member of the advisory board of GENESIS Technology Incubator at the University of Arkansas.

In addition to business infrastructure, I saw a need for developing the strength of my own industry. I had been a member of the Public Relations Society of America since I was a young professional—many years paying my own membership fees—and I served as president of the chapter in Memphis. When we moved to Northwest Arkansas, I traveled to the closest chapter in Little Rock a few times a year. I knew that if I were ever to have my own community of like-minded professionals, we would have to start a chapter in the area. I took that project on, recruiting several other area public relations professionals in the region in early 2000 to help. By 2002, we were officially approved by the national board with a new charter and local leadership. Today the chapter boasts more than 70 members and holds regular meetings, as well as an annual awards program to honor both a Communicator and Professional of the Year.

I also was eager for friends and community involvement. I joined the fledgling Junior Service League, which eventually became a Junior League, and was active in leadership for a number of years. I joined the Fayetteville Junior Civic League several years after that and became president of this prominent local women’s organization. I have met countless friends and colleagues through these organizations and am still a sustaining member in both today.

While I had walked away from the personal and professional network I had thoroughly enjoyed in Memphis, I found you can build community along any road life takes you. Wherever you go, you need a support system, even if you have to build it from scratch, and many times you do. These relationships—both the friendships and the business connections—can fuel you along the way and help you find a better path forward. No doubt these relationships can make the journey sweeter and richer.

4. Chart the Best Course You Can—and Keep on Going

Probably the biggest aha of my restart was that while you need to have an idea of how you’ll reach your destination, you can’t map out everything. So you chart the best course you can and keep on going no matter what detours you encounter along the way. When you are an explorer with a journey mindset, you fully anticipate that you’ll end up in places you hadn’t planned, but you are nimble enough to course-correct as you go.

Going to Fayetteville required a leap of faith. Taking it wasn’t easy for me, but fortunately, I made the jump. Had I not, I’m not sure how we would have stayed happily married, and I may never have had the opportunity to build a company, certainly not the company I built. Looking back, I can’t imagine my life without these two things: a happy marriage and successful company that have both endured through thick and thin. They are two of my greatest accomplishments.

In hindsight, I can also see how leaving Memphis challenged my destination focus. Deciding to walk away from a premier position in corporate life is not something done lightly, especially for called leaders who spend much of their time and energy working to earn just such an opportunity. The move forced me to rethink my destination philosophy and consider a journey mindset, perhaps for the first time.

I’ve often wondered: Had I been elbowed off the career treadmill for a reason? Was this an opportunity to spend more time with my daughter, who was only 18 months old when we moved to Fayetteville? Did the move allow me to set my sights on a new destination, one that allowed me to experience entrepreneurship and growth in my career, while also having the flexibility to be a mom?

I believe all that to be true. But entrepreneurship also required a high degree of tenacity to stay the course, especially as the course changed. I considered taking an easier path on many sleepless nights when my husband was working at the hospital and the loneliness was overwhelming, or when the burdens of entrepreneurship wouldn’t let me rest. These were the times I wanted to forget my long-term goals and find a simpler road.

My destination focus would never let me give up, though, and I am often thankful that my internal drive was strong enough to keep me moving forward regardless of how I felt. At times like these, the old adage of just putting one foot in front of the other sounds like pretty sage advice. By doing so, you will get where you want to go, maybe not in record time, but you can achieve your goals by keeping your eyes focused on where you want to end up. If you’re willing to merge your destination focus with a journey mindset, chances are you’ll enjoy the ride a lot more, too.