Cintra Pollack: Wrapping Things Up

It finally happened. I didn't think it was possible. No, I didn't land a job (but more on that topic later). I made Dean's List last quarter! Somehow, despite working 20 hours per week at the tech transfer office, taking 18 credits and fretting over completing my business plan in time for competitions, I did better last quarter than I have before in B-school.

How on earth...the only thing I can figure is that last quarter was the first time I didn't take any quant-laden classes, which in previous quarters had anchored my grades to a middling level. Plus, I really enjoyed my classes. Mark Forehand's brand management/consumer marketing class was fantastic. Also, I got really into my core ethics class, so much so that I am taking an ethics elective this spring with the same professor, Scott Reynolds.

OH, THE HORROR.  Now, I try not to be a braggart, and I know I've spent lots of lines of this chronicle talking about how it doesn't matter that my grades have not been that good throughout this program, but it feels really great to have made the 10% cut. My last quarter GPA was as high as my final GPA in my undergrad major curriculum (I graduated with high honors in English, so that's saying something).

Does that mean I am as good at studying business topics as I was at explicating Imagist poems? I don't know. I still contend marks are an arbitrary means of measuring accomplishment. What I do know is that I have proven to myself that I belong in business school.

Oh good heavens, did I say that?! The horror, the horror...it was a shocking thought at first, but I'm recovering. According to an assessment test I took for ethics class, I lean strongly toward utilitarian ideals. In a nutshell, I believe in promoting the greatest good for the greatest number. I often think the end justifies the means.

GUILTY AS CHARGED.  This outlook is just like most businesspeople and unlike most literature majors. Have I always been like this, or did this ethical stance shimmy into my brain under the guise of microeconomic frameworks? Am I infected or genetically predisposed? If I don't like this version of myself some years down the line, can I press a reset button? Am I forever one of them?

In high school and college I never felt like I really fit in with most folks, and I certainly didn't think I'd jive with my MBA classmates when I started graduate school. Oddly enough, I really do. I remember an orientation week group discussion, listening to classmate Brian -– a caustic, opinionated, loudmouth of a guy -– and thinking to myself, "He and I are polar opposites."

Brian and I are now good friends. He's motivated by very different things and is politically starkly different from me, but we know we don't have to agree with each other to get along. He has the guts to be contrary, and, whether folks love his opinions or hate them, we all know he will always speak his mind. I respect that.

WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR?  My school friends have ended up being more important to me than I ever thought they would be. Not only are they my business network, but a bunch of them have become intrinsic to my support network as well. It's not just that they have endured the same hellish moments I have, although I am sure the sense of solidarity has forged some of our friendship.

But my business school friends can relate to my high-frequency drive. They are wired similarly. While I am thankful that I still hold close non-MBA friends who ground me and keep me sane, it helps to also have people for whom I don't have to step down the voltage, lest I drive them crazy.

Case in point, it is hard to find good travel buddies. Over spring break, I took a two-week trip to Argentina with Jenn, a member of my program and my roommate last year while in India on our study tour. Two weeks straight with anyone is usually challenging, but with her, it was easy.

TANGO PARTNER.  I don't want to make Jenn's husband jealous (Ben couldn't make it to Argentina), but Jenn and I are just about the perfect travel match. Not only does she make a great tango partner (we took a class in Buenos Aires) and a superb street navigator/wanderer, but also she and I could while away hours of travel time talking about what Argentina-inspired ventures we could start. Everywhere we looked, we imagined some sort of opportunity. We're both dogged by entrepreneurial longings.

Speaking of entrepreneurial longings, nearly two years in B-school have not quashed mine. I am really excited to take my business plan (the culmination of my summer internship and nine months of work) to competitions in the spring quarter.

We've entered competitions in Oregon, California, and Washington. Should my team win any of them (or at least garner enough attention to interest potential investors and collaborators), my partners and I have entertained the notion of trying to start our business after graduation. I'm proud of our idea and would be thrilled if we could pull it off.

TOOLS OF THE TRADE. I've held off looking for a job until I can figure out what the fate of my business plan is. The next few weeks –- filled with opportunities to receive feedback from VCs and entrepreneurs -– will tell if it's time to divert my energy elsewhere, or charge onward with my company.

I suspect, however, that starting my own business is not my immediate next move. Even though I am bullish on my business plan and the people who helped me put it together, I realize starting Soren Systems for real would be an enormous undertaking. I don't feel ready yet.

But will I ever feel ready? I have ten scant weeks left of school, and while I am excited to graduate, my business education is far from done. The tools are in the box, but a skilled practitioner I'm not.

To paraphrase a saying consultants seem to love, "To a person with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail." Imagine what the world looks like to me now that B-school's given me a hammer, a screwdriver, a wrench, a vise. Well, at least I now know what sort of electrical system I am dealing with. I still have no idea what I'll end up building or on what schedule.