Disruptive Tendencies

Fathers, sons, brothers, husbands…

This was the blog I was going to write, with much introspection, after having just seen “Warrior”, a much more thought-provoking movie than many would give it credit for on its face. I had it half-written in my head, as I walked back to the hotel from the theatre.

Then I got back to my home away from home this week, a condo in Toronto, and got a note from one of my best friends’ brother, telling me that my friend had just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I am sitting here with tears pouring down my cheeks at this news.

There is a lot of shit in this world. This week, a first year student at Acadia drank himself to death, playing a drinking game with liquor instead of beer. It could have been my son. Debbie’s uncle Harvey, a good man in his own right, was also diagnosed this past week with pancreatic cancer. People get sick. People die.

Good people. People we know. Fathers, sons, brothers, husbands and friends….

As they say in Africa, “Hasa Diga Eebowai”!

My friend epitomizes the French phrase “joie de vivre”. He always has, and he always will. More importantly, and to paraphrase Tennyson, he is a part of all he has met. His joie de vivre is contagious and has infected all those with whom he has crossed paths. As college roommates and best friends, I can’t tell you how often he would bring a smile to my face. You couldn’t be sad around him. He is the rare individual who could, singlehandedly, lift the mood of an entire room (or bar or party).

My friend is a father, a son, a brother, a husband and a friend to many. He has given so much of his energy to lifting the spirits of those around him, but now it’s time for him to allow those near him to reciprocate. Let your children, your parents, family and friends energize you. Do not lose the joie de vivre that makes you, you.

Your friendship means more to me than you’ll ever know.

Je t’aime fort, mon ami.

Martin

 

Open Letter to Today's Business School Grad

Kids today have it tough. Sure, they’ve all got laptops, iPhones and have grown up never having used a payphone or wearing a watch, but as Thomas Friedman has pointed out, their world is now flat. Competition for jobs is now global. “Take on the world” now has a literal meaning and an urgency unknown to previous generations.

But having been involved, as an alumnus, with Acadia University administration and Manning School of Business faculty, I have found reason to be optimistic. One of the most gratifying aspects of my involvement has been the opportunity to engage with both students and faculty, and see firsthand how they are adapting to, and taking on this new world.

I’ve been asked by several new grads, for real world, practical advice. So, as a guy with some miles under the tires and some scars, I offer up these thoughts on what it takes to be successful out of the gate.

In no particular order:

Be a sponge – absorb everything that you can – at work, in industry, follow thought leaders, etc.;

Resist the temptation to prove how much you know – people will notice you by your effort and competence, you don’t have to point out how great you are;

Work hard and play hard – but “play hard” is different from university where it meant hitting the pub every night. Whether it’s playing Ultimate, softball or mountain biking, get to know your team members outside of the office;

Volunteer for assignments - “old timers” generally hate working trade shows, but I would try to go to as many as possible. Help with booth set-up/teardown, work the booth, take in the keynotes...It’s a great way to be as current as possible, to build a professional network and to begin to formulate your own opinions about your space;

Be opinionated and passionate, but don’t always feel like you have to “win”...Sometimes it’s about trying to make lemonade from lemons.

Make your boss look good;

Watch the nickels and dimes – you’re spending someone else’s money (investors, shareholders), treat it as your own. Offer to double up at trade shows, as rooms are often the biggest expense;

Be aligned with a profit center, not a cost center – tie yourself to revenue, where you can be measured...When times are tough, cutbacks come first from cost centers, and no matter how “valuable” you think your contributions are, if they can’t be measured and tracked against revenue, you’ll be hard pressed to justify your existence at some point;

Participate in outside meetings – partners, customers, press/analysts...Observe, take notes...But mind the hierarchy;

Remember, that your career is lifelong. I was going to say it’s a marathon, not a sprint, but actually it’s more like a series of wind sprints...You run fast, pause to catch your breath, and then run fast again and again;

Create your own “story” - how did you become passionate about your field, end up at...?

Meet the VCs – tell them your “story”...

And most importantly, remember, “Success has many fathers…” Success truly requires a team that rows in the same direction. Be willing to acknowledge and share the credit for your successes, because whether you believe it or not, you would not have succeeded but for the contributions of others;

Lastly, many forget that the second half of the expression is “...but Failure is an orphan”. Sometimes, you need to own mistakes and/or failures. Resist pointing the finger.

 

Now go take on the world, because you have to!

That’s my .02! What’s yours?

Martin Suter

 

All His Bags Are Packed, He’s Ready to Go

After a long, hot summer, today is the day that we pack our son Roark’s bags for his departure to college. Tomorrow, he and I will fly up together and begin the settling in process for him at Acadia University, in Nova Scotia, Canada.

At 18, and after 7 years in Florida, Roark is ready to leave “home”. He’s looking forward to seasons again, as well as taking his first steps towards independence. Despite having told ourselves that “empty nesting” is a phase to which we are looking forward, it is becoming clear just how large a void Roark’s departure will leave behind.

There is so much that I want to tell him between now and Sunday, when I pull out of Wolfville and leave him behind. First and foremost are the feelings of intense love and profound pride in the young man that he has become. But more than that, I would like to mind-meld and share with him all that I’ve learned in my 47 years so that he is somehow protected against the harsh reality that can be life. A parent’s instinct is “To Preserve and Protect”, but there comes a time when that is no longer possible to do so directly. This is that time. I had hoped that helping Roark “launch” would feel empowering, but as I sit here on the cusp of his departure, I feel helpless at my inability to watch over him and remain his protector.

We raise our kids the best we can, giving them the tools that they need to be independent. Since Roark was an infant, the one tool that we have focused on, in anticipation of this day, is the ability to make the right decisions. “Ask yourself – is this the right thing to do or the wrong thing to do?”, has been a Suter mantra since the earliest days. There were no “rules” at our house, because there is no rulebook that anticipates every situation. It is the ability to differentiate between right and wrong choices that we hope to have instilled in both our kids, so that when we aren’t there to preserve and protect, they remember to ask themselves that question. If they do that, they’ll do the right thing.

I will miss him more than he knows.

That’s my .02…

Martin Suter

 

In Memory of Anne Lummis (1936-2008)

In Ulysses, Tennyson wrote, "I am a part of all that I've met". As I drove back today from Anne Lummis' funeral, I began to fully understand what a profound statement this truly is.

I didn't know Anne, having only met her briefly at a few social occasions with her husband, Gordon. But I had the privilege today of seeing how many friends came out to pay their respects, and to hear the tributes to her during the eulogies by her husband, and their three children.

One of the descriptions of Anne's life that stuck with me today was that "She wrote her own book." This is something that we all get to do, and how it reads is entirely up to each of us.

Those who know me, would attest that I am proud of my accomplishments. But when all is said and done, those closest to us - our family, friends, colleagues will gather in a room to remember us. No one in that room will care that "He was a great business development guy...He exceeded quota...He signed big deals", etc. It's not what we've done, but who we are and how we've lived our life that matters to those closest to us at the end of the day.

We make choices in our actions and interactions every single day, consciously or subconsciously. We choose to act rationally or irrationally, with integrity or not, with compassion or not. When we become that "part" of those that we meet along the way, what "part" of them will we become? If we strive to leave the best parts of ourselves when we cross paths with people, the world will be a better place for our having passed through it.

By all accounts, Anne Lummis left only the good parts with all whom she met, and, as a result, the world is, indeed, a better place.

We could all aspire to as much in our own lives.

 

Acadia U: A Cajun's Flashback

For the tens of thousands of students that have walked by or shopped at Cajun’s over the last 20 years, it must certainly seem like it’s just part of the background. Indeed, that it has become a deeply engrained part of the Acadia campus, for so long now, is something in which I, and many others who were involved in its inception, take considerable pride. But perhaps few today know that Cajun’s was conceived by Acadia students, is student owned and operated, has created jobs for hundreds of Acadia students, and has brought in millions of dollars in revenue to help fund the services delivered by the ASU for students.

The Year 3BC (Before Cajun’s)

After having worked fulltime in a sporting goods store in Montreal for 2 years before resuming my education at Acadia, I was determined to figure out an easy way to pay, not only my tuition, books and living costs, but to support a fairly active social life as well. So, in July, I phoned the registrar to find out what the school colours were. After learning they were red and blue, I ordered 72 rugby shirts and 36 lined, nylon jackets with red & white ACADIA across the back, and shipped them down for my arrival. On the first day of Frosh Week, one of the first people I met played on the rugby team and told me that the company they ordered their jerseys from couldn’t deliver. Before I knew it, I had outfitted both the men’s and women’s rugby teams, sold all the jackets and was counting my profits. I quickly ordered more gear, and began promoting myself around to the campus clubs, residences and sports teams. It got so that I was making several runs a week to Nowlan’s Canteen to pick up shipments that had arrived via Acadian Lines. I ended up selling over $40,000 worth of clothing each of my first three years at Acadia (which was real money in those days when tuition was under $4,000), more than covering my social life!

The Year 1BC

During my third year, I lived on Prospect St. with the ASU President, Keith Publicover, who encouraged me to get involved with the ASU. I was still putting myself through school selling clothes out of my room, but began to appreciate the extent to which the ASU was a business with the mandate to provide services to the student body. Outside of the membership dues paid by each student, the only other major source of revenue for the ASU in those days was the AXE. Certainly a lot of my profits ended up there! However, there were rumblings at the time of possibly raising the drinking age in the province, which would have had a huge impact on the ability of the ASU to provide services. And thus began the discussion about how the ASU could diversify its revenue base. I suggested to Keith that if I, as a student working out of an apartment on Prospect, could do tens of thousands of dollars a year in sales, imagine what a store in the SUB could bring in. He agreed, and we took that initial seed to Jeff Redden, then the GM of the ASU.

With a commitment that they would at least consider a business proposal, I began to write the initial Business Plan, with ulterior motives in mind. As I saw it, the ASU would need to have someone work full-time in the summer leading up to the store opening, as well as to manage the store during the year. But as I began to run the numbers, and with no idea what level of revenue was realistic with a storefront, it was difficult to project a profit with a full-time store manager’s salary built-in. So, wanting to get approval for the project, I cut out the manager’s salary during the year, making it an Honorarium position as are the other ASU executive jobs, which cinched it for the ASU. We got the green light in the spring of 1987, I had a summer job, and Cajun’s was about to be born.

Pre-Opening

At this stage, we still lacked a name for the store, but had been given a location, on the upper level of the SUB overlooking its present location. We had about 550 sq ft, not huge, but enough for a real store. We began by laying out the store using masking tape on the floor – the changing rooms here, the counter here, and so on. Then, one night, several of us, including the newly elected ASU President, Heather Sanford, were sitting around (maybe with Keiths in hand)  trying to come up with a name for the store. There was no shortage of ideas, just a shortage of good ideas, when I had a flash and came up with the name “Cajun’s”, which I thought was an excellent tie-in to Acadia and the history of the region. And so, Cajun’s it was.

The lines of clothing were relatively easy to select, as I had relationships with most of the suppliers anyways; Barbarian rugby shirts, Trimark jackets. We selected a local supplier for fleece, Nova Scotia Textiles in Windsor, who made great, high cotton, heavyweight fleece. In fact, they were the main supplier for Roots sweatshirts in the mid-80’s, but were badly hurt by the Free Trade Agreement signed around the same time. We planned to open the doors with about $20,000 worth of inventory on the shelves, with follow-on orders in place for many of the longer lead time articles.

To save money on fixtures, I went to the Zellers store in New Minas where I was able to buy a used cabinet and glass display case in burnt orange for under $100. With a little wood veneer mactac, it looked like a new display case! Added to that were some used, chrome displays, and our big spend was on a slotted wall on which you could hang different kinds of fixtures.

The First Year

We opened the doors on September 1, 1987, with the paint barely dry, but the shelves stocked, having pulled an all-nighter folding clothes, putting them on hangars and getting ready to go.

With only an ad in the Ath, a sign in the SUB, and some posters around campus, we managed to draw a big crowd on opening day. There’s a picture of me in the 1988 yearbook counting all of the cash from our opening day (with a gleam in my eye).

The first year, we had a part-time staff of between 8-10, including Jennifer Bentley, Donna Conrad, Vicki Hermann, Laura Lee MacLean, Rob McColman, Maura Ryan, Stephanie Suter (my sister) and Debbie Tracey (my girlfriend at the time, and my wife for the past 18+ years). It was a great team, and I’d like to think that a job at Cajun’s was fairly coveted as word got out.

While we never set out to be trendsetters, there ended up being an iconic fashion item just before Christmas – the famed “Acadia Crew” sweatshirt. I got the idea for the print after an ASU trip to Boston where I picked up a Harvard Crew sweatshirt. But what we did that was unique at the time, was to print on both sides of the shirt, so people could wear them inside out. Hey, it was the 80’s and people did stuff like that! I order two dozen on a whim, barely getting Craig Kennedy, the new ASU GM, to sign off on the PO. But they flew off the shelves within hours, so we re-stocked again, and again, and again. Who knows? With fashion being a cyclical thing, maybe the Acadia Crew is getting ready for a comeback.

The Business Plan called for a student manager to run the store, and while the first few may have thanked me for the summer jobs, they probably cursed the lack of remuneration during the school year. As my last year wound down at Acadia, I handpicked my successor from amongst my staff, and in April 1988, I officially passed the torch to Laura Lee MacLean. As I walked out of the store that day, I fully appreciated Shakespeare’s line about parting being such sweet sorrow.

Looking Back

It’s ironic to be involved in this celebration this year. One of the fears that I used to be quite open about was that someday; I would walk into Cajun’s anonymously and be asked the dreaded question: “Sir, can I help you find something?” And it happens pretty well every time I return now, but I’ve come to terms with it. And while I will claim to be the original founder of Cajun’s, there is truth in the saying that “Success has many fathers.” Certainly, in the case of Cajun’s, this is the absolutely true.

So when you walk by the store next time, pause and think about the students who cared passionately about the school, the ASU and its future ability to serve the students. More than that, these students did something. They took that passion and created something of lasting value. Is it a legacy? That may be overstating it, but I know for a fact that there’s a little piece of a lot of great people in that store, and that each of them should be proud of their contributions. I know I am.

Martin Suter, BBA 1988
Original Founder of Cajun’s

martin.suter (at) iplicensing.net