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resource box at bottom in included.Confessions of a Reluctant Saleswoman
By Joyce M. Coleman
Like many of my generation and upbringing, I never thought of myself as a saleswoman.
When I was growing up in Mississippi, insurance salesmen and others who managed to find their way to our home way out in country were met with skepticism. While we were happier to see Watkins man (yes, they were men) who drove from county to county to sell bedspreads, blankets, Watkins products, candy, and you-name-it from backs of their station wagons, it still was a pretty risky business, all things considered.
Can you imagine making a living driving unpaved, country back roads, dodging farm animals, and rugged hunters with large guns? Ugh!
As a black girl in pre-civil rights Locust Hill, Mississippi, I grew up believing that selling was not a desirable or dependable profession. Through example and overt instruction, I was taught that my goal in life was to get an education and become a teacher. If God intervened, I might get a good, solid job with a strong, reputable company and, through association garner even more respect than teachers and preachers. Couldn't get any better than that!
But selling? Not an option. (No one ever explained why sellers, including local fishermen, always had cash!).
So, notion of selling never entered my mind. Although my brother and I were constantly tinkering, and hoped to one day write that great novel, new song, or develop ultimate gadget, it never dawned on us that we'd have to sell our creation. I guess we thought that if we built a better mousetrap, world would magically find out about it and beat a path to our door. Ha!
Childhood notions of our great creations took a back seat, as I made sure that I could get "a good job" (no selling). I earned a degree in Chemistry and Mathematics, but soon discovered by trial-and-error that being a chemist or traditional teacher did not fit with my spirit. That reality check sent me searching for an alternative. While searching, I figured I'd have a good time and see world. I landed squarely in corporate America, where I learned lessons that were not taught in Locust Hill.
One of my first lessons was to live is to sell! The first product I sold was ME. Imagine! It's 1968 and I am convincing an international world-class airline that an afro'ed young black woman is ideal candidate to be one of its stewardesses across Atlantic. It's 1969, and that same young woman is ideal candidate for a management position. This process continued every few years, including selling them on notion that I should be industry's first black corporate female executive.
In corporate America I earned my stripes by selling my employees, bosses, and customers on reality that I brought better than a square deal to table. I promised a lot, and over-delivered on promise. However, I never thought of it as selling. I simply practiced what I'd been taught during my childhood - put your best foot forward at all times, know your stuff, always give more than you take, and show respect for others.
