Introducing SkillCat: We match skilled trade workers with high paying jobs

In late April, I got on a phone call with Frank. 

Frank had just been laid off from his job as an oil & gas worker due to COVID.

He has 2 kids, both with special needs.

He was scared. 

His former boss praised him as an exceptional worker, but he had no idea where to turn next. 

We’re launching SkillCat to empower workers like Frank, talented workers without a college degree. Through our virtual simulator, we train & place blue collar workers into high demand skilled trade jobs in construction, telecom, and energy.  

My team and I have been working with skilled trade workers for years, and every experience has led us towards this new vision. 

During my senior year of college, I did research on the BP oil spill. I’ve always been passionate about education, and I realized quickly that poor training was one of the biggest causes of the spill. Technical training – in almost every heavy industry – is typically classroom-based with blackboard diagrams to teach complex concepts. I decided to change that.

Over the next 4 years, our team built animated training & simulations to train oil & gas workers. Our tools became very popular in the industry; we trained more than 25,000 students from the largest oil & gas companies. And our products are in 5 languages in 50 countries across the globe.

One of our most exciting projects was working with Chevron and the IADC to build an iPad/iPhone based Drilling Simulator. Workers skill-up in a virtual environment alongside an AI instructor. Companies get automated reports on worker scores & skill levels. 

In 2016, I switched to part-time on the business as it seemed we had hit a growth wall. I decided to get my MBA at Stanford to learn more about how to effectively scale businesses. 

This year, coming back to the business after Stanford, two fascinating insights helped formulate our new vision.

Insight #1: Infrastructure Firms can’t find qualified talent. 

In February, we were approached by one of our clients. He loved using our simulator to train his existing workforce. But his biggest problem wasn’t training. His biggest problem was hiring. 

He could never find enough good workers to hire, and, when he did find someone, they rarely had the skills they said they did in an interview.

After 100 company interviews, we realized this problem is widespread. Construction, Telecom, and Energy companies really struggle to hire good workers and retain them. 

75% of companies can’t fill open trade positions, and 50% of workers don’t last their first year on the job. This is a $2.5T problem over next decade

Insight #2: Blue Collar Workers can’t find high paying jobs. 

In March, COVID struck. Suddenly, my LinkedIn was full of posts about layoffs (100,000 in the oil & gas industry). So many workers we had trained and worked with – exceptionally talented but scared with no idea where to go next. On Oil & Gas Reddit, I even saw a worker post about going from oil & gas to working at a grocery store!

When an industry like oil & gas or manufacturing declines, workers are unable to easily switch industries and end up in unskilled jobs. This lack of reskilling has led to a decline in blue collar income by 20% since 1970

Faced with these insights, I realized our simulator is the perfect solution to these problems. Today, we’re launching SkillCat, a skills based hiring platform based on our simulator. 

Workers train for free through virtual simulations that replicate every key job skill with an AI instructor. We let workers re-skill for new industries in a convenient, interactive manner. 

Companies assess top candidates through the simulator to ensure aptitude and skills fit. Companies experience 10x productivity gains by hiring the best worker for each job.

SkillCat takes a cut of every hire made through the platform.

We’re starting by focusing on two industries: Construction & Telecom. They’re actively hiring and have huge worker shortages, even during COVID. And the 25,000 oil & gas workers we’ve trained are their dream hires. 

Our roadmap includes Solar, Wind, Utilities, Aviation, and Manufacturing. 

In the future, we envision a world where automation creates ever-changing skilled job roles and industries. We’ll be at the center, constantly matching industry demand, reskilling workers, and placing them in the absolute best job for their skills. 

If you’re excited about what we’re building, please hit us up! We have an incredible team, and we’re always looking for new partners and advisors passionate about our vision.

Sign up here if you’re a worker interested in getting an HVAC job

Sign up here if you’re a company interested in hiring our HVAC technicians If you’re interested in partnering with or advising us, hit me up at ruchir@skillcatapp.com

How the Stanford MBA taught me to be a leader

I was 20 years old when I got a call from Stanford admitting me to the MBA program. I deferred my admission and, two years ago, I  finally stepped onto the beautiful campus. I could spend this post going into great detail on the hard-skills I learned: entrepreneurship from top VCs, management from bigshot CEOs, and machine learning from CS legends. But that wouldn’t fully portray my experience. My biggest learnings at Stanford were not about how to start the next billion dollar company; my biggest learnings were all about myself.

From my first day at Stanford, I felt like an imposter. Everyone just seemed so influential. My classmates were polished and put together and just incredible at being social. To get to Stanford, many of them had thrived in harsh corporate environments and stood out among the best and brightest. And it seemed my background hadn’t prepared me the same way. As a lone-wolf entrepreneur I had gained a lot of knowledge and experience, but I never had to prove myself on a team among equals.

During the first week of classes, I struggled in team role-playing activities. I remember one particular exercise when we were tasked to make a puzzle. People seemed to automatically gravitate to and listen to others in the group. When I felt like people weren’t listening to me, I disengaged and started doodling until I was called out. Time and time again, both inside and outside of the classroom, I disengaged when I wasn’t feeling liked.

These feelings of disengagement came to a head during our most popular MBA class, Interpersonal Dynamics also known as “Touchy Feely”. Every week, I sat in a circle with a group of classmates for seven hours. There was no set topic of conversation; we would just talk and tell people how what they said made us feel. In theory, this would make us into stronger leaders.

I hated it. I hated sharing my feelings and I didn’t feel my comments were appreciated. So, I disengaged and was often quiet. Midway through the quarter, we participated in an exercise called the influence line. Every group member has to physically rank everyone else in the group based on how influential they are. It is a stressful exercise, because no one wants to be placed last. Almost every single person in my group placed me dead last. I was devastated.

When I finally talked about how terrible I felt, I got an endless stream of feedback. No one hated me; they simply didn’t hear me talk much and so didn’t see me as an engaged group member. Faced with this, I forced myself to change my behavior. Instead of fearing judgement on sensitive topics like race, I shared my feelings. People listened, and my comments were praised. Instead of being a bystander when other group members were fighting, I got involved and helped resolve a disagreement. People appreciated me more as a result. By the end of the class, feeling ownership of the group’s process made it a lot more fun. Touchy Feely made me into a much stronger team member and a much stronger leader.

You can’t be a strong leader unless you’re a good team player.

Another Stanford tradition is TALK. Every week, two students give 30 minute TALKs about their lives to the entire MBA class. These aren’t simply resume reviews; instead, they’re deeply vulnerable reflections on personal life experiences. My first year at Stanford, I would never have given a TALK. I didn’t think I had anything interesting to say, and I was terrified to share my insecurities.

But after Touchy Feely, I threw my name into the lottery and was selected to speak. I thought about a lot of topics for my TALK. I considered talking about my passion for entrepreneurship or how it felt growing up Indian American. But neither topic seemed truly vulnerable. What I ended up talking about was much more personal: my need to feel liked by others.

Despite my TALK being relatively light, it still felt vulnerable to talk about times in my life when I’ve felt lonely. For example, speaking in public about how I wasn’t that popular in high school was difficult because I’ve always been ashamed of it. But that’s the power of TALK. When people came up to me afterwards, many mentioned that they felt closer to me because of what I had shared.

Everyone has insecurities. To be a truly inspirational and relatable leader, you must be open about them.

To cap off my GSB experience, I took a course in Reputation Management. We had to send out an anonymous survey to our classmates, friends, and co-workers about our personal reputation. What was your first impression of me? What do you think of me now? What are my strengths and weaknesses, and how can I improve myself? I sent it to a lot of people, and I specifically sent it to some people I didn’t get along well with, hoping they would fill it out and tell me why.

Perhaps it’s a testament to how much others think I need help, but I got almost 100 responses from people in my life. Most responses were anonymous, and a lot of feedback was really tough to read. I consider myself hilarious; several people said “you’re not as funny as you think you are”. I pride myself on being risk-taking and adventurous; an anonymous classmate said he “doubts my awareness of reality”. But it wasn’t all bad. I think my favorite was what my mom filled in for her first impression of me: “what a cute baby….so special…my very own”.

I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting, and I feel very grateful that so many folks took the time to offer me such thoughtful advice. I’m not gonna take all the feedback; you can’t make everyone happy! But the survey has let me be a lot more strategic in my interactions. I hope to continue sending out feedback surveys like this one every few years for the rest of my life.

Feedback is a gift. Whether you take it all or not, it’s always valuable to know where you stand.

Last month, I walked on stage alongside peers who I have come to respect, admire, and love. Thank you Stanford and to all my amazing classmates for helping me become a stronger person and a more thoughtful leader.

How to make a hater into a fan: Lessons from the king of comebacks

In 2004, I was 13 years old and I loved baseball. The Red Sox had a chance at winning their first World Series, and I was obsessed with beating the New York Yankees. The Yankees were arrogant and entitled, and their new third baseman A-Rod seemed like the worst of them all. He never smiled. He always looked full of himself. And he played dirty as hell. One game, he swatted at a Red Sox player’s glove to knock a ball loose. When he was embroiled in a steroids scandal, it felt like a natural progression.

Fast forward 14 years and A-Rod was last week’s speaker in our Reputation Management class. His presentation changed my opinion to respect and even like him. Here are three lessons I learned.

First, never take yourself too seriously.

When someone is as famous as A-Rod, it’s easy to be arrogant and out of touch with reality. That’s expected. What made A-Rod endearing was the times he made fun of himself.

At the beginning of class, Professor Kluger asked everyone in the room who knew A-Rod to raise their hands. Almost the entire class did. When A-Rod introduced himself, he pointed out Louis, a classmate and friend from France, who hadn’t raised his hand. He said, Louis must be thinking, “Why is this random guy talking to our class? He doesn’t have an undergrad degree and is speaking at Stanford…” The entire room laughed, and it broke the tension of having a celebrity in the room.

Another time, he was talking about how many home runs he had hit — among the most of any player in history. He followed that up by saying he also has the fifth highest number of strikeouts; out of every player in the history of baseball, he has struck out more than only four others. In his words, he has a “PhD in failing”.

By using humor, A-Rod showed that he could be fun and happy, not just intimidating. By being self-deprecating, he showed that he was an everyday man, relatable and vulnerable just like the rest of us.

Second, use discipline when building your reputation.

When A-Rod was going through his steroid scandal, he realized it would be an uphill battle to win back the gratitude of his fans. He made a pact to himself. Everyday, rain or shine, he would sign 25 autographs. He has kept this pact every single day since.

To an outside observer, this might sound easy. But I can tell for A-Rod it’s not. Before the scandal, he was even known for not signing autographs.

As a celebrity, it’s tough to constantly interact with strangers and make fake conversation. When I ran into A-Rod in the bathroom before his presentation, he was there for almost 20 minutes. I don’t think he was there to actually pee. He was there to go through his speech in comfort and quiet without the distractions of celebrity.

The fact that A-Rod isn’t a natural extrovert makes his commitment all the more impressive. It’s fun to talk about reputation management when it’s easy. But committing to something you don’t enjoy makes it much more meaningful. I believe A-Rod will be successful as he is applying athletic levels of dedication to rebuilding his brand.

Third, tell your story, especially at the darkest hour.

When A-Rod tested positive for steroids, his career was devastated. Headlines in every newspaper and talk show shouted that he had failed his team and his fans. This took a huge toll; A-Rod fell into a deep depression.

During this time, immediately after the incident, he picked up the phone and called every single one of his business contacts. In the toughest moment of his life, he pushed himself to reach out to share his story and apologize. When times are rough, everyone’s wants to hide. When I’ve gotten rejected or made a huge mistake, I don’t want to see anyone at all. A-Rod clearly felt the same way, but he realized the power of engaging to shape the narrative.

A-Rod’s ability to shape his own narrative let him bounce back from the scandal. He had his best baseball years at 40 years of age, and he now has a successful life in business. More importantly, he has stayed close to all the people he called. They never forget that he thought of them in that tough time.

I’ll never be a Yankees fan. And I’ll always be a little annoyed by A-Rod’s shenanigans in 2004. But after last week, I think he’s a good guy: humble and inspiring. I’ll tell everyone I know. Isn’t that what reputation is all about?

Think like a salesman: How to bond when you have nothing in common

See original article for the Stanford Business magazine here

I walked into the crowded office. I threw my backpack onto a seat and did a quick survey of the room. Not a single familiar face stared back. Everyone seemed to know each other, but no one knew me. I was the youngest person in the room — by a margin of at least 20 years. And I was the only person who wasn’t white. Here goes nothing. I swallowed my nerves, turned to my right, and introduced myself with a smile.

It was 2013. I had just graduated from college and was attending a workshop in Houston, Texas focused on oil drilling safety. I was surrounded by a hundred veterans of the industry — men who had spent their entire lives in the oil field hauling pipe and sweating in the hot sun.

I was at this meeting with a clear mission: to sell. In college I had done research on the BP Oil Spill and realized that poor training played a major role in the incident. I had started a company bringing animated online training to oil and gas. As founder, CEO, and sole employee, these former rig workers were all prospective clients.

As I looked around the room, a tough looking guy in the back stood out. His nametag said “Kenny”, and his shirt said in huge letters: “Give me my God, my Gun, and my Oil”.

Gulp. What in the world was I doing here? Over the next four years surrounded by blue collar oil and gas workers, I would meet many more folks like Kenny — folks who, at first glance, I had absolutely nothing in common with.

Kenny was Republican — not a business friendly “New England Republican” like my Dad, but a definitely-voted-for-Trump-in-2016 Republican. I was from Rhode Island — one of the most liberal states in the country. We weren’t going to bond watching the presidential debates.

Kenny loved barbecue. I grew up vegetarian. Vegan restaurants wouldn’t go over well.

Kenny loved beer. I didn’t drink. Hanging out at a bar with my Shirley Temple could get awkward real fast.

Kenny spent years working hard manual labor. I didn’t know how to change a tire. (I still don’t.)

If you don’t know anything else about sales, know this: look for similarity. People buy from people they trust, and people trust those they can relate to. Every single day, I had to find common ground with folks like Kenny.

Here are three stories when similarities let me connect with people very different from me.

1. Laughter is the great equalizer

At one conference I attended, I was bored: sick of networking and falling asleep in stuffy speaker sessions. So, I walked to one of the couches and sat down next to a guy who seemed just as overwhelmed. I started a conversation about how the speakers were boring, and we laughed making fun of them together. Then I started trash talking one of our competitors. We were laughing and hanging out in the back while everyone else was serious and focused; we suddenly made the conference fun! That small interaction made him into one of my longest and happiest clients.

Everyone loves to laugh. Especially in serious settings, being goofy and irreverent breaks the ice and builds a true, meaningful connection.

2. When in doubt, eat.

Another time, there was an important industry leader I had long struggled to get close to. We had a superficial relationship, but I wanted to build a much stronger one. I invited him to lunch and offered to pay. He agreed, and we started an amazing tradition of grabbing food monthly all over the city. We slowly became better and better friends over Houston’s ethnic cuisine.

The greatest bonding happened in the messiest restaurants; bonding value is directly proportional to how many napkins are used. He ended up becoming my first friend in the industry and a truly valuable contact in the years to come.

Even if you’re international, vegetarian, or have more dietary restrictions than a diabetic bear, there’s always some sort of food you can share. Time and time again, I have broken through awkwardness by simply sharing a meal.

3. Family, Family, Family

One of my most important business contacts was a friendly man I had found it difficult to connect with. We had so little in common that I was unsure how to bring the relationship closer.

My grandfather worked in sales for many years, and he was visiting Houston. He suggested inviting the client and his family over for dinner with our family. At the time, I thought this was the craziest thing in the world! My family was Indian with a culture that would seem so different, and probably pretty weird, to a Texan. Maybe a double date would have worked to bond with him and his wife, but I didn’t have a girlfriend. Why would this guy want to meet my parents, let alone my grandparents?

But I listened to my grandfather, and dinner ended up being super fun and a huge success. We built so much trust by meeting each other’s families. The differences in culture, cuisine, and background were way outnumbered by the similarities of family bonding. After that dinner, our relationship was closer than it had ever been before. Even now, he still asks about my grandfather.

If you’ve met someone’s family, you automatically trust them just a little bit more.

At Stanford, it often feels like we’re in a huge bubble. There’s diversity but, in other ways everyone is the same. On Election Day last year, my Facebook feed — full of GSB friends — was in mourning. But my LinkedIn feed — full of oil and gas friends — was overjoyed. Sometimes, it feels like neither of these groups really understand the other.

What my experience in sales taught me is that we all have things in common; we all have a lot that we share. And if we focus on what we share rather than what divides us, we can connect with more and more diverse people.

Sometime after graduation you’ll go and meet someone who is completely different. Someone you don’t think you would like and who doesn’t seem like they would like you. Someone you would typically ignore or even avoid.

Have a conversation. Pretend you are a salesman, and figure out what you have in common. You’ll build a genuine human connection and maybe even a lifelong friend.

Eye Contact 101 from Stanford Business School

Last week, I started my last quarter at the Stanford Graduate School of Business. I love this quarter’s classes and want to share my learnings.

Think about your last day at the office. You walked by hundreds of different people. Some colleagues, some strangers Some smiling, some frowning. Some intimidating, others warm and welcoming.

Every single time you interact with another human you have decisions to make. Do you make eye contact? Do you hold eye contact? Do you smile? In last week’s class Acting with Power at Stanford Business School, we learned the consequences of non-verbal communication on interpersonal interactions.

During class, we were split up into two groups and stood at opposite sides of the room. We then had to walk around the room for 30 seconds, just like you would walk around an office, a party, or the streets of New York City.

There was a twist. One group had to act high-power (dominant and confident) by making eye contact, holding it for as long as possible, and keeping their heads completely straight. The second group had to act low power (submissive and deferential) by making eye contact for an instant and then looking away, bowing their heads downwards, and touching their faces and hair.

When I was in the high-power group and crossed paths with someone low-power, it felt incredible. I would make eye contact and hold it, and the other person would drop their eyes and look at the ground. It made me feel confident and happy. I even felt my walk change to a swagger. I could have kept going through that part of the exercise forever.

When I was in the low-power group and crossed paths with someone high-power, it felt terrible. Everyone else seemed so cocky and smug – even arrogant – and I had to look away the moment I made eye contact. It made me feel insignificant and looked down upon, purely based on nonverbal communication. Even though these folks were classmates and friends, the feeling of having to yield eye contact and bow my head felt really awful.

This was such a unique experiment (Give it a try sometime!). Here is what I learned.

1. Confident body language leads to confidence, not just the other way around
During this exercise, my confidence level dramatically changed based on my physical behavior. When I was maintaining eye contact and keeping my head up, I felt confident. When I was quickly looking away and putting my head down, I felt like a failure.

My mood and confidence really changed based on how I was acting, based solely on small changes in body language. Next time I’m feeling down or demoralized, I will try simply acting confident to bring my mood around.

2. We’re always on stage
The premise of Acting With Power is that great leaders spend much of their time acting. Celebrities, CEOs, politicians – they all feel the same day-to-day sadness, anger, and depression as any other humans. But often they must put on a face to avoid showing these feelings to the world.

What this exercise showed me was that, even in a simple interaction crossing paths, we are subconsciously being judged. Sometimes authenticity is important. But often, it is important to act like we’re on a stage: projecting confidence even when we don’t feel confident.

3. Confidence can easily be seen as arrogance
When I was in the high-power group, I felt really happy and confident. I don’t think I was being arrogant; in fact, most of my other classmates at Stanford are far more impressive than me. But my behavior and body language may have made me seem arrogant.

Similarly, in the low-power group, I knew my classmates were not actually arrogant. But being in a low-power role, and not feeling any sympathy or caring, made me think of them as arrogant. Confidence can easily be interpreted as arrogance when it’s not coupled with some level of empathy and connection.

Out of all my classes, this one resonated the most. I’ve started noticing eye contact everywhere.

Next time you lock eyes with a passing stranger, what will you do? Maybe you should wink.

Standup Comedy: Lessons from Entrepreneurship

Before business school, I spent four years starting a company. The best way to describe entrepreneurship is a nonstop roller coaster. There are days you are extremely happy, and then there are days you are extremely sad. Entrepreneurship brings you the closest to life’s most extreme emotions: depression, anger, fear, and pure happiness.

This summer, my experience as a budding standup comedian has felt extremely similar to entrepreneurship. Every day brings with it a roller coaster of emotion.

My life right now combines two very different skills: writing and performance.

Whenever I think of something interesting, I write it down. It might be a time I felt really frustrated (My parents trying to set me up with girls), it might be a random thought (The Venus Flytrap would be a great gift for an enemy), or it might be a time I made my friends laugh (The time I went skiing without goggles and burnt my eyes). Writing comedy is a challenging, difficult to define art. I start with these interesting ideas, look at a blank Google Doc and try to create something funny.

At night, I go to as many open mics in the city as possible. Standup comedy is incredibly democratic. Anyone can pick up a microphone, go to a coffee shop or bar, and get a few minutes of time to make an audience laugh. This is called an open mic. Every comedian, from Jon Stewart to Eddie Murphy, has gotten their start with open mics.

Often, in New York, open mic audiences are made up entirely of other comedians who are very hard to make laugh. They have high standards, they are thinking about their own material, and they are often depressed. But, through this brutal cycle, I get immediate feedback on everything I spent the day writing and editing. Feedback is a complex term for a simple concept: laughter. The more laughs I get, the funnier a joke is.

There are few better feelings in the world than writing a joke that just absolutely kills, when the entire room just erupts in laughter. After spending hours and hours writing and editing and performing the same chunk of 50 words, suddenly one day it magically works. It’s a beautiful, truly incredible artistic process and the reason so many people love standup comedy.

Just yesterday, my friend Cason was visiting New York, and I did my best set ever at a dive called Mama’s Bar. Everyone laughed! I doubt anyone at that mic even remembers my name, but I spent the next few hours with a huge smile on my face, skipping all over the subway. I’m still happy thinking about it.

My favorite performance so far was a musician open mic I went to at Sidewalk Cafe in the East Village. It was all incredible musicians except for me and a comedian friend. I went up on stage, pretended to be a professional singer from Juilliard, and sang “I Feel Pretty”. I got such a rush from going up and just being ridiculous. I love open mics for moments like this, when you can really connect to the audience, surprise them, and slowly win them over.

Other times, it seems like the entire world is collaborating to crush my dreams. I’ve sometimes traveled miles across the city (one day, I walked 17 miles), only to find that the mic has been cancelled or is full. Sometimes, I may make it into a mic but be slotted dead last. The same room that was roaring in laughter earlier may now be full of much fewer, burnt out audience members.

One time, I got up second- arguably the best time to perform. I was ready and pumped up for my material. And then I got on stage and saw a pretty girl in the audience. I completely lost my nerve and did terribly.

Every time I do awful, the next hours are spent in misery and self contemplation. What went wrong? I spent hours writing and re-writing but nobody laughed. Did I seem nervous? Do I have what it takes?

As I struggle in the comedy world, I find myself coming back to the lessons learned from starting a company. Here are three key lessons that apply to both entrepreneurship and comedy:

1. Don’t compare to anyone but yourself

When starting a company, one of the biggest challenges is self-doubt. You constantly question yourself, and you invariably compare yourself to others: your friends, your family, and your competitors. When you are working on a project that could take years before you see real results, it is easy to compare and feel like you are completely failing.

My budding standup career has been full of self-doubt. I have performed at almost 60 open mics in the city. I have done terribly at the vast majority of them.

Human instinct, whenever you do badly, is to immediately compare yourself to other comedians. This is how you drive yourself crazy. Everyone’s circumstances are completely different. Maybe they’ve been doing comedy for a lot longer than you. Maybe the bits they tried today have had years of practice. Maybe they have close friends in the audience. Maybe they are just having a really great comedy day.

When fighting it out on the open mic circuit, it is critical to compare to only one person: yourself. If you feel yourself getting better, if you feel your writing and performance are improving everyday, you are doing okay. You are on the right path to eventually being a successful comedian.

2. Community is critical

Entrepreneurship can feel extraordinarily lonely. When you first start a company, you might be the only person involved. Even when you have a team, it remains extremely lonely at the top; you are the only person who is completely, 100% obsessed with the company being successful.

Just like entrepreneurship, standup is, ultimately, a solitary act between you and your audience. You create and perform, alone. You fail and succeed, alone.

When I felt the loneliest as an entrepreneur, having a community helped me tremendously. Mentors, especially experienced entrepreneurs who had once gone through the same experiences, helped inspire that there is truly light at end of the tunnel. Fellow founders, who were experiencing the same craziness, were an incredible sounding board to discuss problems and often just vent.

My experience in standup has been exactly the same. When you’re really struggling, other comedians are the greatest source of support. My friend Joe Nehme, an experienced comic and really funny guy, is always around when I’m feeling down. No one but a fellow comedian really understands the ups and the downs, the agony and the joy, of why aspiring comedians put themselves through this roller coaster. Sometimes all you need is a “You have potential!” and you can make it to another day.

Failure is totally okay, and can even be fun, when you have friends by your side.

3. You need to be a little arrogant

To be successful as an entrepreneur, you need a certain degree of arrogance that you are one of the best. This is even more the case as a standup comedian. In the traditional corporate world, you can spend your life as a moderately successful middle manager. With standup comedy, it’s essentially be CEO level or be out.  There are just not enough spots for everyone to make it.

If you don’t believe in yourself, if you don’t believe you are truly funny and clever enough to be among the best and most successful comedians, you will give up. The struggle is too challenging. Too long. Too fraught with uncertainty.

I am not sure if I will continue with standup comedy my whole life. Despite having a little bit of arrogance, I’m not sure if I’m really good enough to make it. But I’m going to try. I’m going to fight for the high of an entire room bursting into laughter. Because it really is the greatest feeling in the world.

Performing in Times Square

For me, the hardest part of doing standup is not caring what other people think. When you bomb terribly during a standup set, or even when you do well, there are always people who will judge you. The less you care what other people think, the better a comedian you will be.

To help tackle this fear, I spent Friday afternoon with my fellow comedian friend Carter performing comedy on the New York City subway and in Times Square. It went terribly, but it was a great learning experience.

As a new stand up comedian in NYC, you are always trying to get stage time. You’re not good enough for people to pay to see you, so it’s always hard to get a real audience. Enter: performing in public.

Legally, public performance is protected in the friendliest of terms by the First Amendment. In New York City, anyone is allowed to perform (and ask for money) in the city’s subway stations. The same right applies to the city’s streets. Performing in the subway cars themselves is illegal, but that may be for the safety of the performer more than for the commuters.

So, we decided to give it a shot!

First, we bought a big, blue bucket to ask for donations. Our goal was to make enough money to pay for the bucket. We bought the bucket for a lavish $4 and walked into the Times Square subway station, New York City’s busiest. We had our blue bucket, a cardboard box that could be made into a sign, and the wit of two of the city’s most confident comedians.

This was apparently not enough.

First we went to the mezzanine area- the part of the subway people walk through to go downstairs to the trains. Nobody stopped. We tried yelling, which got curious glances, but no one actually stopped to even say hello.

Then, we went down to the platform- right next to the trains. Here, we finally should have had a captive audience- people who have absolutely nothing else to do with their time. They could either wait for the subway in silence or they could listen to us. They all chose to wait for the subway in silence. We would walk over and start performing near a large group of people. Within a few seconds, before we even got to get into any jokes, everyone would move over to the other side of the platform.

After 30 minutes of this, we finally go these two teenagers to pay attention to us: two foolish individuals who were truly enticed by the prospect of a free comedy show. We finally got a chance to practice our material! And then they didn’t laugh at anything, politely leaving a few minutes later.

As we continued to experience complete and utter failure in the Subway, we went upstairs to Times Square and found a beautiful spot to harass the world’s tourists.


So many people walk through Times Square! It’s really something to behold. So many people completely avoid making eye contact- no matter how loudly you yell. A vast majority of people would make very quick eye contact, look away, and then read the writing on our box as they walked on by.

One guy was waiting for someone in the same area we were performing. Instead of coming by to watch us, he stayed as far away as humanely possibly – observing from a distance while apparently making a conscious choice that we weren’t good enough to observe close up or become engaged.

After about an hour of this, we decided to call it a day. Carter took the cardboard, I took the bucket, and we took the subway to an open mic. I’m definitely just a little bit more famous than I was before I did this.

What did I learn from this experience?

First and foremost, there is literally zero reason to care what strangers think about you. This is a great life lesson as well! Strangers – and even people you may know well – are wrapped up in their own problems, their own challenges, and their own busy lives. They think about you way less than you think about them; sometimes, they might not even notice you! Live life the way you want to live it without worrying about what others think.

Secondly, when performing comedy- or when doing any sort of presentation- it is critical to get people hooked extremely quickly. People have very short attention spans and, while it may have been an extreme in a subway station, a hook at the beginning is critical. You need to get people hooked before they make a snap judgement about what you’re offering them.

Lastly, I’ve gained a tremendous amount of appreciation for artists and musicians who are passionate beyond anything else about achieving their dreams. It was super challenging to do standup in a public location for one hour- I can’t imagine doing it day in and day out for years.

Next time I see a street performer, I’m definitely gonna stop and listen. And maybe even laugh. Just by being there, they are doing something truly incredible.