Tell us three setbacks you have faced.

Sample One (Excerpt)

In February 2005, when I started Kid Stuff, a children’s apparel company, I was armed with a comprehensive analysis of the kid’s clothing market, $500K of investment capital, an advisory board made up of high-ranking retail executives, including Mark Armisten, CEO of Gap Kids, and unlimited drive and dedication; I believed I possessed all I needed to succeed. Before embarking on the design and production of our first line, I briefly considered recruiting a partner with design and manufacturing experience to be my chief operating officer, but I opted against it. This was a critical mistake.

Looking back, if I had an experienced COO with operational experience, I would have been able to focus on the strategic vision of the company and devote more time to raising capital to fund our growth. Instead, I spent most of my time and energy correcting production mistakes and managing the manufacturing process. Because I was consumed by operational issues, I didn’t have time to implement the company’s strategy to move beyond children’s clothing into other complementary goods, thereby leaving us vulnerable to concentrated economic downturns because I didn’t have a diversified product line or distribution channels.

When the economy slowed and smaller orders and older aged receivables caused cash flow problems, I began negotiations with a VC firm. Another consequence of not having a partner was that I didn't have additional connections in the industry or the time to seriously engage with more than one venture capital firm at a time. Had I had a strong management team in place, Kid Stuff might have been more desirable to prospective VCs. When my only VC connection decided not to invest after months of negotiations, I had no choice but to liquidate the company to protect my shareholders’ investments.

This mistake has led me to reconsider my long held belief, “If you want something done right, do it yourself.” I take responsibility for Kid Stuff ultimately not fulfilling its strategic objective, and I realize that its demise was due in part to my desire to retain complete control. I now understand the immeasurable value a partner and a talented management team add. My actions in an effort to maintain total control left me with little or no control in the end.

Sample Two (Excerpt)

Ten venture capital firms turned Vetsight Technologies down for funding, signaling the end of my start-up team’s ambitions for a new business that would pioneer diagnostic procedures for animal medicine.

All of the founding members of Vetsight had worked together before, and we were excited to launch another start-up. We were a team in search of a reason for being. The idea for our company came to me one day when I took my dog to the vet and witnessed the difficulty in diagnosing a patient who could not speak: design a diagnostic tool that could quickly diagnose common veterinary conditions.

Although the idea was straightforward, we failed to reflect on the fact that none of our team of former software programmers was familiar with the world of veterinary science. Further, when our own industry research indicated little evidence of demand for veterinary diagnostic instruments, we chose to concentrate on enhancing product functionality and to disregard this industry data. These pivotal business oversights were evident when every fundraising meeting ended with potential investors shaking their heads. With our fate sealed after failing to raise seed funding, we gathered to discuss the future viability of the company.

In a unanimous vote, we abandoned our quest to launch Vetsight Technologies as a veterinary diagnostic tools provider. Rather than accept complete defeat, I proposed that we redefine the company as a software development company, capitalizing on our core programming expertise. In addition, I suggested that we broaden the skill set of the team to include a chief technology officer and software architect.

My experience with Vetsight taught me that in a leadership role in a start-up, I must focus on key strategic issues and not get caught up in the tactical problem solving. The difficulty I had letting go of an idea, even when our market research clearly dictated doing so, has educated me on the difference between tenacity and obstinacy. I also learned that I can prevent a disappointment from turning into a failure by analyzing its origins, addressing the reasons constructively, and directing my energy toward a productive new direction rather than continue fighting a losing battle. The most valuable thing is to be able to accept a failure, learn from it, and move on.

Sample Three (Excerpt)

On a visit to Ghana, my misunderstanding of the cultural environment resulted in a lost opportunity.

I partnered with a local physician, Dr. Ababio, to help deliver critical immunizations. My mission was to apply the principles of the Vaccination Accessibility and Education Program (VAEP) I founded in Michigan to this area.

We traveled around the country speaking with parents to check if infants had been vaccinated and to educate them about potential for disease. We discovered a very high percentage of the population that had no awareness of vaccinations. We could see their minds wandering as we discussed the benefits of vaccination and the dangers of disease.

Determined to spread the word, I decided to hold an event at a local home. We invited many families in the community. However, only one family attended. I later learned that Ghanaians will almost never enter the home of someone they do not know. Not only were they apprehensive about attending, they were put off by my lack of understanding of their culture and my attempt to place them in an uncomfortable environment .

This experience taught me how critical it is for a leader to be aware of surroundings and sensitive to cultural customs. An effective leader will understand members of the team and work to anticipate how they might react to a situation. This is a lesson I take seriously and have applied to many situations since.

Sample Four (Excerpt)

I began my involvement with Stepping Stone as a student in a quarter-long peer-counseling class, a requirement for all peer counselors. My desire to be a peer counselor was a natural extension of my other community activities such as tutoring, mentoring, and hospital volunteering. However, in many ways, becoming a peer counselor required much more preparation and dedication than my other activities, since it required a training course, thorough evaluations by Stepping Stone staff, and several interviews. It was all of this training and commitment that led to such great disappointment when the program dissolved due to poor results and lack of internal and external support.

As a peer counselor, I noticed that some of us were taking on multiple shifts in order to keep the office staffed at all times. Others were slipping under the radar and not working at all. I noticed that those putting in the extra time were burning out and attributed the decreased results for our visitors directly to the burn out. As internal morale faltered and external financial support dwindled, many of us grew angry and indignant at those not carrying their loads.

As a board member, I saw the diminishing morale as a serious setback to our mission of peer counseling. However, I maintain that mistake was shared by those who signed up for a meaningful task and did not take it seriously.

Sample Five (Excerpt)

My first challenge as president of the Business Council, the student government of the undergraduate business school, related to another organization called the Presidential Assembly and Barry Katzen (fictitious name) its chairman. In the past, the Assembly's purpose had been to facilitate information sharing between the student leaders of the business school. The year before I took office, the Assembly had redefined its objectives to include interacting with the dean of the business school to communicate and resolve student issues and offering programs which addressed student needs and concerns. As president, the issue that I had to address was that liaising with the dean and hosting student programs was also the mission of the Business Council. In effect, my organization now had a competitor.

I decided on a merger strategy; I asked Barry to join the executive board of the Business Council. Although he was skeptical at first, I persuaded him that this was the best solution for the business school and would prevent duplication of effort. The deal was sealed with a handshake, and I must admit that I was extremely proud of the efficiency with which I had dealt with my first challenge as Business Council president. Unfortunately, as I learned later, the merger was the beginning of my problems, not their resolution.

The conflicts surfaced almost immediately. Barry wanted his own budget with complete spending autonomy. He demanded a separate member retreat from the Council as a whole, and after his retreat, the programs he proposed for the Assembly, such as business school-wide career fairs, distinguished speakers, and fireside chats with the dean and professors, were programs that the Business Council offered. Barry and I had some heated conversations regarding these proposals. After each meeting, I thought that he had acquiesced, but the issues continued to resurface.

The night Barry walked into the executive board meeting and resigned from the Council, I felt ill. After all the time, effort, and argumentation, he decided that we just could not work together.

The incident taught me a great deal about motivation. First, I recognized that my relationship with Barry had been soured by my hidden agenda. I attempted to conceal my desire to control Barry under the guise of "working together." Second, I had refused to recognize and empathize with Barry's motivations. Like me, Barry wanted to lead his own organization without outside interference; all the cajoling and browbeating in the world would not change this fact. In essence, I learned that trying to suppress or ignore what someone deeply desires is a waste of time and energy.

I respect Barry because he was clear on his motivations and had a vision of what he wanted to achieve. In the meantime, I had spent the first two months of my term looking in the rearview mirror at the competition, rather than looking ahead and achieving a shared vision for our organization.

Sample Six (Excerpt)

While deployed in the Marine Corps I was stationed at a small village in Afghanistan and the insurgents shot us at every day. Part of our responsibility was to be official liaisons to the local villagers, and every few days I trekked into the village to meet with the elders. The meetings were conducted through a translator and it was difficult to feel rapport with these old men from a foreign culture.

One day at our standard meeting, the elders asked me to pay for a cow that had been injured during one of our raids on the local terrorist camp. While this request was not under my purview, I wanted to build trust with the community and I immediately escalated the request up my chain of command. To my surprise, I was forbidden from paying the $50 USD to pay for the cow, and was told I needed to communicate this to the elders. I was disappointed, and didn’t know how I could build credibility in this situation. I took the night to contemplate what the best course forward was.

The next morning I trekked to the village, bringing bottled water, American snack food, and any other items I could spare. I told the elders that while I could not pay for the cow now, I would provide these food items to them. My gesture bought me a few days as I strategized how to turn this frustrating situation into a win for my team.

I thought about the reasons my leadership did not want me to buy the cow. I’m sure they didn’t trust the elders, and assumed we would be targets for anyone with a claim if we paid for the animal. I crafted a memo to my commanding officer laying out three reasons why paying for the cow in this situation was the best strategy, I discussed the level of trust we needed to gain to lay the groundwork for our next operation, and how difficult it was for us to know the difference between friend and enemy in this village. To address their concerns about supporting the village, I proposed a formal process to prove that an animal really had been injured and to monetize the impact on the family.

My email was well received, and I was able to buy the cow. By asking the elders to provide some proof of the animal’s importance to the family I was able to demonstrate credibility, and our generosity paid off in trust by the elders.

Sample Seven (Excerpt)

I had found my dream job in fashion immediately after college, and I was miserable. Focusing only on myself and the work I disliked, I became an apathetic person who ignored opportunities to make a difference and grow in my profession. After a few weeks of complaining to my friends and family, I realized I needed to make a proactive change. I was disappointed that my dream job was not so dreamy.

Later that evening, I began to reflect on my career. I needed to learn whether fashion was the right place for me, and the only way to do that was to learn and engage with my colleagues. I started to become more involved at work, reaching out to others for informational interviews so I could learn everything about the company. I researched design, production and merchandising and learned what each department did and how to land a job. Ultimately I realized fashion wasn’t the right career path for me, and I did not have an ideal skill set. I did a thorough self-assessment and decided that I would enjoy management consulting. As I was not on the traditional recruiting cycle I needed to network my way into the profession. Taking the skills I had learned in my first fashion job I scoured my network and met with everyone I could who was working in management consulting. Each meeting reinforced the interest I had in the career path, and I continued to network until I found myself meeting a senior partner at a large consulting firm who was a family friend. This partner was in a position to help me achieve my goals and to overlook my off cycle recruiting. I spent hours researching his background and what they were looking for at the firm. I reached out to friends to practice simple case questions and my pitch on my interest in the firm.

The meeting was engaging and productive, I approached the partner with an attitude of learning and I asked him for honest advice and perspective. He was impressed at my understanding of my own strengths and needs, and agreed I would be a strong fit for the firm. After a round of interviews I landed my new dream job.

Through taking the time to undergo some early soul searching in my career I had rediscovered myself, as well as a new professional goal. Today I use setbacks in my career to learn what I can do to either understand my situation better, or create a more engaging future for myself. I feel good about my accomplishments and I am excited to see what I can achieve in the future.