Sales Seemed Smarmy
I was a journalist. And yet somehow, I found myself running a closing department for a sub-prime wholesale mortgage lender - which I think is an offensive phrase now. Actually, I know how I got there. I was asked to do unethical things at the newspapers where I worked and decided that I needed a change. My college buddy worked there and he said they were desperate for people and got me an interview. A year and a half later, I was co-leading my department and had won numerous client service awards. My colleagues would cry weekly due to the stress and would often hand the phone to me if a broker was being particularly abusive. But the Sales department always saw Operations as a sort of farm system for sales talent and I got asked if I would consider “moving up to the ninth floor” - aka, Sales. I immediately pictured the smarmy used car salesman on the cover of Don Henley’s greatest hits album, “Actual Miles.” Although, I did own a tie that looked remarkably like the one he’s wearing. Wide ties were the thing.
About a week later I met my Dad for lunch at a Marlow’s Tavern - their first location and the same one that I had been hired to take photographs for on their soft opening just a year before. I told him that I’d been asked to join the sales team but that I didn’t want to be “you know, one of those guys” - and I did the finger guns for emphasis. So my Dad said, “Well then don’t be one of those guys. People have problems that you can solve. So just help them. And if you can’t, just tell them that, too, but see if you can find them someone that can help them.” That didn’t seem like sales, but certainly something I could dedicate myself to. So, then I saw my Mom a few days after that and recalled the conversation with my Dad, but told her I’d be on 100% commission and if I couldn’t find ways to help people (or get any sales) and turned opportunities to other lenders, then I’d be broke and would fail. My Mom - a lifelong Helper (capital letter felt right) of many people and a very successful account executive, said that as long as I found ways to help - even if it meant sending them to a competitor, create success for the client, be someone they want to work with, and do it all with humility, then I’d be doing it right. The sales come from that.
The last nudge that got me to go into business development - things happen in threes a lot, don’t they? - came from one of my first career mentors, Tom Hutchens at SouthStar Funding - a company that folded at the onset of the Great Recession. I was in a training session about our loan programs and we did some role playing. No one volunteered so I decided to go first. He played the part of the broker and I was the account executive. He told me his borrower’s credit score, the price of the house they wanted to buy and where it was located. I immediately responded with the types of loans we could qualify the borrower for, and he stopped me cold. “Stop. You failed,” he said. “You didn’t ask a single question. You don’t know anything about this person’s family, what kind of job they have, how much they make, if this is their first home - you need more information. And you didn’t ask me anything about me either!” A 1,000 watt light bulb went off. I could use my journalism skills to be successful in sales! And all I had to do was care about the other person and try to help them! Being a business developer and salesperson suddenly seemed noble and necessary.
If you are new to a business development role, or if the role feels transactional to you, just know that you are needed. The company that employs you needs you for sure - revenue keeps the engine running. But more importantly, your clients need you. The leaders you have yet to meet likely need you, too - even if it’s just so you can connect them with someone else. And they need you to care about them and their problems. And trust me that they can tell when you are only pretending to care. You are valuable and necessary even without your job. Look at this role as a way to matter to even more people.