excuse to walk up to someone new at Saturday dinner and ask them more about their graphic design experiences.”
Because Startup Weekends combine the dual requirements of teamwork and proof of concept , people feel motivated to show off what they can do and find out what everyone else in the room is capable of. It's fine for someone to brag that they are the world's best developer or a marketing guru. However, when you watch how five other people work together and see the quality of their output for yourself, you build a foundation for future relationships or networks that is so much stronger than the tenuous (and occasionally, meaningless) exchange of business cards at a bar.
We have also found that it is easy for budding entrepreneurs to become cynical. After a while, you can meet a certain number of people who say they can do things but then don't follow through. Many entrepreneurs begin to feel as if they should just go it alone. They assume that others don't share their energy or passion, or don't have the right skill set. One Startup Weekend attendee named Mike Vandenbos describes how he has been an entrepreneur since the age of four—when he started selling flower seeds with his older brother, making a three-cent commission on each pack. When he got a little older and more ambitious, he became a paper boy and then started a small engine-repair shop while he was in high school. After that, he began a golf event consulting business.
Looking back, Mike says, his one glaring shortcoming was always his “desire to go it alone”—no more partnerships with the older brother or anyone else. As an adult trying to launch new ventures, Mike realized that the stakes are much higher. He has learned through Startup Weekend that he can “walk with other entrepreneurs.”
Other Startup Weekend participants are well aware that they need partners, but they often don't know where to find them. Jesse Maddox learned what a good networking tool Startup Weekend can be when he returned from a trip to Vietnam with an idea for an application to help tourists communicate with locals. He recalled watching the exchanges between the two groups and cringing: “Usually when a fruit seller approaches a tourist, the tourist sees him coming and goes into what I call ‘No mode.’ He shakes his head at the fruit seller, saying ‘no’ over and over, and ends up either erupting in frustration or simply ignoring the person.” Needless to say, the entire exchange is a disaster for both parties.
Maddox remembers that after taking a few language lessons with a couple of locals, he was finally able to communicate effectively and politely, thereby avoiding the embarrassing exchange described above. “When the fruit seller approached, I smiled and said ‘No rôi’ (pronounced ‘naw zoi’)—I'm full already.” Maddox was excited when a huge grin came over the vendor's face; then she laughed and said something back, which he didn't understand. “It didn't matter. In just two short syllables, I'd avoided an awkward situation, engaged positively with the local culture, and had a memorable experience myself.”
Maddox came back to his home in Atlanta, Georgia, a few months later with a business plan in hand for helping foreigners learn key local phrases very quickly. The program would include phrases designed for different types of travelers—businessmen, tourists, and so on. One would even offer instruction on flirting in a foreign language. Maddox sent out the idea to a number of friends and acquaintances in the hopes of securing funding. But he heard the same response over and over: Great idea, but we can't offer you any funding until we see that you've put a team together.
“To me, this seemed like the classic chicken-and-egg problem. I couldn't get a team without investment, and I couldn't get investment without a team,” Maddox says. His experience illustrates