It’s a cliche that the solo business owner does everything because they have to do everything. What also goes with that territory is our difficulty with letting go of that. The thought of delegating causes more anxiety than the reality of being overworked — or so it seems. When it’s your baby, and you’re used to doing things your way, and all your systems and structures are organized idiosyncratically, it does seem hard to let someone in, even if it’s to help.
Now I’ve worked with subcontractors for years, and I even share an office with developer Jimmy Thomas of Acts of Good, for we do most of our projects together. But it became clear during 2009 that if I didn’t make changes, I was looking at a lifetime of switching gears between strategizing for clients, creating brands, taking care of all aspects of design, updating legacy client sites (the ones built before I was using content management systems), handling inquiries, facilitating team meetings, managing projects from soup to nuts, networking, and keeping on top of administrative tasks like scheduling, planning, bookkeeping, budgeting, invoicing, updating the business plan, talking with lawyers, CPAs, and so on.
So I should hire some help, right? Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. For starters, help with what? I do a million different things—which several hundred thousand would the help help with? “Get a junior designer” was the frequently offered advice. But it’s my design sensibilities that make Blue Mouse Monkey’s work unique. And besides, the design is the funnest part. How sad would that be to give it up.
What I needed help with was the administrative tasks. So it became a matter of figuring out which parts of my workload I could “peel off” and give to someone else. Preferably someone who is better at them than I. Then designing a job description around that, then designing a want-ad around that, then designing interview questions, then posting the ad…
…Craigslist. Part-time. No benefits. The only draw was a non-standard workplace, seeing as we’re creative types and all…
…165 applications. I read every single one. I filled out a matrix that assigned scores of 1-5 to several criteria for each applicant, plus I wrote notes. Then I averaged out the scores, telling myself I’d revisit all the ’4′s and ’5′s. There were a dozen or so complete duds, but there were also so many ’5′s I had to cut some of those out in the first round. Then I interviewed the remaining ’5′s. Seventeen in all. Jimmy participated, even though this wasn’t his hire, he’d be sharing space and projects with whomever I chose. Plus, it was good to have his company while a parade of talent passed through our office.
Part of me was thrilled that so many over-qualified people were interested. But another part of me was heartbroken to see so much smarts and creativity and talent so dreadfully unemployed. Brilliant resumes that ended in 2008 or 2009. One woman who wrote me an apologetic email after firing off an angry one (I had rejected her in the first round) had me in tears. There is no reason why good people who have done all the “right” things should be set adrift so cruelly by an economic system that doesn’t give a rat’s ass about them and considers them nothing but a “human resource.” It’s unfair, and undignified. This is not the way it should be, I kept thinking. This is not the way it should be.
But, it’s the way it is, and I had to keep going through the process. And it’s true I was grateful that “too many to choose from” was my biggest problem.
For the second round of interviews I got it down to five applicants. The “final five” I called them. Every one of them was excellent. As I said to Jimmy, “I’ll hire them all, and we’ll take over the world!” But the budget was for one, and part-time at that. So after the second round of interviews I spent a weekend in agony, going back and forth, considering every variable I could.
Funnily enough, after considering all the variables, I offered the job to the person who I had instinctively thought “This is the one” right after her interview. I kept trying to ignore that instinctive response, telling myself that I should take all the variables into consideration. But after that weekend of agonizing, Shelise Gieseke really was the one, and I offered her the job the following week. She is settling in to her role as Studio Manager and I remain thrilled to have her at Blue Mouse Monkey.
Oddly, Shelise doesn’t come from a design background. I say oddly, because many design industry folks applied. Shelise’s background includes communications and being a legal assistant, so I knew she’d be great at client care and staying on top of detailed tasks. But what distinguished her in the end was a combination of good humor, critical thinking skills, and an interest in social justice issues. Shelise splits her time with Adoption Mosaic, a local non-profit that provides information and resources to address the unique needs of the adoption community, particularly around international adoptions. Shelise is a Korean adoptee and she is interested in the way society shapes the adoptee experience through language. I didn’t know much about international adoption until I met Shelise, but apparently the complexities and risks are numerous.
I’m not adopted, international or otherwise, but I am an ex-pat who didn’t live in her native country till the age of 10, then spent a total of only 13 years there. Perhaps it’s the “outsider’s edge” that I can relate to, the faint background hum of being “not from here”. And the knowledge that there is nowhere in the world where that hum would fall completely silent.
But this isn’t a problem, because it’s the edge that give us outsiders a inbuilt appreciation of cultural relativity, great observation skills, awareness of the shaping powers of culture, and makes us take extra care with communications. All excellent skills for brand creators and web designers!
It keeps us nimble and resourceful, too, for navigating the ups and downs of entrepreneurship.
My name is Julia, and I’m a recovering solopreneuraholic.