I Was a Boomer at a Startup

When I joined a health care startup at age 60, I knew it would be different from my long career in corporate media marketing. I had some trepidation about working at a company where almost everyone was 30-plus years younger than me.

On my third day, I got a whiff of just how different it would be when I was asked to attend an "idea jam" — the startup equivalent of a department head meeting. It was a salon-style event held in the rented home of one of the soon-to-be ousted founders.

It was quite a change from the company meetings I'd been used to, with carefully sliced fruit and rolls of deli meat, celery and carrot sticks for the vegans. Here, the vice president of strategy helmed the kitchen; he'd once been a chef in a Florida tourist town.

Before dinner was served, he shared that the fish was caught just miles away, the plentiful vegetables were from the local farmers market and the plates and utensils all were sustainable. I mingled with my new colleagues, and my initial concern about the age gap was assuaged by finding shared interests in music and strength training.

Before the post-dinner idea jam, we were invited to assume yogic postures to promote creative flow, after which we sat cross-legged or laid down on the carpet and closed our eyes while a sound healer played on a combination of bowls, triangles and cymbals. As I picked the white carpet fuzz from my black jeans, I applauded myself for being agile enough to keep up.

I'd soon learn about a different form of agility. One of my first assignments was to craft a long overdue white paper. In a discussion about what was needed, I'd suggested that testimonials would strengthen the report, not knowing how or if we could gather them.

When the meeting ended, we went into the breakroom where one of my colleagues asked a random group of people playing foosball what they thought of my idea. My insides did a somersault. I'd been conditioned to keep innovations under wraps until the kinks were worked out. I was just spit-balling, I was quick to say. I hadn't figured out the mechanism, or how to navigate regulatory concerns.

That would be my first lesson in the value of "socializing" an idea. One of the foosball players had solved a tech issue for the right person to gather the testimonials and was happy to connect me. Instead of the close-to-the-vest corporate approach, I learned there was value in seeking input early and often, and that seemingly unlikely people can help lead to solutions.

At the company where I'd spent the bulk of my career, I had successfully implemented several innovative programs. To propose something new, I'd flesh it out in detail, complete with execution guidelines and charts of cost and revenue projections. Only when that was completed would I present it to more senior executives for potential approval.

This same logical, methodical approach — called the waterfall approach — is what we would then use to execute each phase of a project until it was complete.

Despite past success, it was clear that the linear, hierarchical approach that had worked for me in the past was outmoded.

As the startup grew, so did its internal communications needs. A new chief people officer came onboard, and tasked our team with creating an intranet. Rather than aim for something fully executed, we set out to build a minimum viable product, or MVP — something with enough value that people will use it and provide feedback to guide future development.

This was a huge change from the buttoned-up approach I'd been used to — and one that I've now applied to other aspects of my life. Not only is the concept of an MVP liberating if you have perfectionist tendencies, it's efficient, as you can course-correct as you develop, and spend less time and effort on something that might not be viable.

An MVP is one element of the Agile process, a project management approach devised by software developers. Instead of a sequential, linear path toward a fully completed project, the Agile method is iterative. Teams work in sprints — short, intense periods against one milestone, after which there is a check-in. This allows for ongoing feedback and adjustments as the project unfolds. It's also a quick way to keep stakeholders in the loop.

A new marketing director joined the company. Our vice president — the third since I'd joined — asked him to keep notes at a meeting about a presentation we were planning for the CEO. At one point I noticed he'd stopped typing and was manipulating his track pad, as if he were playing a video game.

Looking closer, I saw that he was taking meeting notes on a mind map, a visual representation of what we'd been discussing, a literal map of the presentation. Radiating from the central project were all our topics and ideas, color-coded and arranged in a way that made it easy to see the interrelationships between different elements. I've subsequently used mind maps to plan everything from articles to a move to Thanksgiving dinner.

As the startup matured, it was time for a rebranding. We needed to articulate who we were and what we were doing in a clear and concise way.

We conducted dozens of interviews with clients and employees, and even the ousted founder, with the goal of creating a new mission statement. Done well, a mission statement is more than company propaganda. It tells everyone who interacts with it what to expect and helps employees stay on the same page.

A mission statement can be a north star in your personal pursuits as well. Articulating your goals, your "why," and thinking about the legacy you want to leave can help with decision making, time management, networking, and even that dreaded job interview question, "tell me about yourself."

Here's a guide to creating your own mission statement.

Two years after I started, we had a new CEO and another management shuffle, and the sale of the company was imminent. It was time for me to bow out. The company that bought the startup then went public. When the opening bell on Wall Street sounded for that company, my equity conversion was hardly a pot of gold. But I had gotten rich, anyway.

Working at a startup transformed my mindset in ways that carry through to personal goals and projects. I learned how to be agile, gained tools to combat crippling perfectionism and discovered new ways to innovate.

Perhaps the best lesson of all was that the way things are is not the way things always have to be.

Stephanie Feuer is writer and marketing executive. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, Slate, Smithsonian, NBC News THINK, Narratively, The Billfold, Organic Life, The Forward and other outlets. She is the author of a novel for young adults, “Drawing Amanda.” Find her at stephaniefeuer.com or @StephanieFeuer. Read More