Own your past, dummy

When I started consulting with companies like Slack, Microsoft, Johnson & Johnson, I never mentioned that I was an elementary school teacher, a wedding DJ, or a former McDonald’s manager.

Honestly, I didn’t think anyone would care. Even worse, I thought it might detract from my image as a consultant and coach.

Fast food manager?
School teacher?
Wedding DJ?

It doesn’t exactly scream “corporate consultant.”

I managed McDonald’s restaurants from age 17 through 28, with two brief intermissions when I was arrested and tried for a crime I did not commit, and a year in banking before finally making it to college and needing a more flexible schedule.

I was good at managing restaurants, too. I was named Manager of the Year for three consecutive years in what was by far the hardest job I’ve ever had, managing a team of 60 people, ages 16 to 76, in a job that paid too little, demanded too much, and offered almost nothing in the way of advancement. I managed non-English speakers, teenagers, first-time workers, unskilled workers, and everything in between.

I learned so much. In many ways, my time at McDonald’s made me a better teacher, a better leader, and a better person.

But again, it was fast food.

Elementary school teacher is certainly a noble profession that I did for 27 years, and truly, it was a dream come true for me. I loved that career and those children so much, but I was teaching while consulting, which worried me.

Would clients think I was taking their work seriously enough while spending the bulk of my day teaching kids?

And wedding DJ? Yes, I cofounded the business with a friend and partner, and we quickly rose to the top of the market, but in the end, I was spinning CDs and leading the Chicken Dance on a Saturday night.

Not exactly what you’d envision in a corporate consultant.

But my clients finally helped me see the light. As we worked together, they slowly began learning about my past, and as they did, they tapped into the expertise it had given me.

A coaching session on messaging suddenly became a discussion about motivating employees or delegating effectively.

A workshop on storytelling included questions about how to teach skills to the people on their team.

An on-site visit to a company became a Q&A session about the marketing strategies my DJ partner and I used to land our first 106 prospective clients in a row.

Still, I didn’t entirely embrace my past until one day, when a longtime client said:

“Matt, people love that you’re teaching elementary school. And your experience managing restaurants for ten years is more than most of us have managing anyone. And you launched a business from nothing and made it into the best-in-class brand. You should be talking about this stuff all the time!”

In other words, own your past, dummy. Stop hiding from it, you moron.

Oh, and own your present, too.

So today, I also make sure that people know me as a novelist.
A stand-up comedian.
A writer and performer of solo shows.
A non-religious minister and wedding officiant.
A husband, parent, and middling golfer.

This lets clients access all the knowledge and wisdom I may have to offer.

It also lets them know they are working with someone obsessed with storytelling, but also someone who has lived other lives, had other experiences, and pursued other careers.

I bring a lot to the table. We all do.

Instead of my past being something I should keep to myself, it’s something I should tell the world

So I did and do.

Whitman said we contain multitudes, and he was right, of course.

We just have to embrace those multitudes and share them with others, whenever possible.

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