A Meditation on 10 Years.

It’s family lore that when my paternal grandfather was growing up on East 11th Street in 1920’s New York City, he was often beat up on his way to and from school for being small and being Jewish in a predominately Catholic Italian neighborhood.?He and his friends were fast and could usually out run the Italian gangs, but when they didn’t or couldn’t— they were caught and would get a beating. ?

One day, my grandfather begged his parents (my great grandparents) to sign him up for boxing lessons at the Kips Bay Boy’s Club. Eventually, he got pretty good at boxing and became the Kips Bay Boy’s Club Champion for his age and weight class.?All the while, he never let on that he could land a blow and continued to run home after school. One day, he had had enough. While running with his friends, he slowed down and allowed himself to be caught.?The junior gangster placed one hand on my grandfather’s arm and my grandfather turned around and knocked the kid out, right on the street. The rest of the gang ran off — shocked that a Jew not only hit back but could pack that kind of punch. Needless to say, after that, they left him alone.

My grandfather would go on to graduate high school and work in the family laundromat before being drafted to serve as a paratrooper during World War 2. After the war, he started selling a new technology called a “television” — often hauling a HUGE television stand on New York City buses and trolly cars. As a salesman, he was earning more money in commissions than the owner of the company and, with the blessing of the owner, he started his own business selling consumer electronics.?This was just at the beginning of the 1950s wave of new home ownership and suburban flight.?He named his company, M. Rothman & Co.

This venture would be extremely successful and its dividends would, years later, pay for my college tuition and living expenses— as well as for the rest of his 10 grandchildren.?He died in August 1986 on the tennis court of a country club he helped found— for Jews and Italians. This was a month after I was born, so I never got to know him. Nor did he, get to know me. He was a man of his time and had some pretty outdated opinions on a woman’s place and [spoiler alert] I don’t think he ever imagined one of his granddaughters (he had 4 at the time of his death) would ever go into his family business. But as I celebrate my company’s 10 year anniversary, I wonder what he would make of me. ?

SPAR was born when I couldn’t take it another minute. When I was belittled and bullied and just knew what was happening to me was unfair.?I knew no one was going to come and rescue me: I would have to rescue myself.

?It was visceral. It was instinctual. It was genetic. Pull counter… I leaned back on my right foot and released: dispensing the most devastating blow I could muster… metaphorically speaking, of course.?I was not going to just smile and “take it” anymore. I was not going to wait for fairness or for someone to do the right thing.?From that day on I would no longer be docile. The day I was told, I was “a young woman in the industry, who needs [sic] protection” and I didn’t believe it— a new part of me was born. And that awakening has changed the trajectory of my life.

When I asked my husband what to name my company, like my grandfather, he liked the idea of naming it after us.?We had only been married for five months. SPAR - Strachman, Paul Allison Rothman. While I agreed to the name — the universe blossoms and blooms and conspires: Our oldest daughter’s middle name is “Sparrow” and while we intended to name her after my mother’s sister “Susie” who died at a real pivotal time in my life, it wasn’t until we were home from the hospital did I realize, my oldest child was named SPARrow.??

I am not a boxer, obviously. But SPAR Partners was built so we could help coach and train brands on how to tweak their marketing to pack a bigger (and better) visual punch.?We don’t market ourselves. We are a match book that you quietly slip across a cocktail table.?We don’t get the spotlight, but we’re in our clients’ corner.?We show our clients new technology and new finishes — mixing media to create a bigger and more bad-ass project that stretches marketing budgets and creates buzz in the marketplace.

I started this company when I was 26 years old. It has now been 10 years and it has grown with me. It was just me and the business for awhile and then came Cameron who has been a sturdy steward and loving step-parent.?The three of us are growing. ?

I never imagined that I would be a “professional” when I was growing up.?I assumed, I’d go to college and get my M-R-S and have children.?Being a working woman… No, being a business owner with kids??Well, that would have made my head explode. No one ever told me that I couldn’t but this was simply never modeled for me. I didn’t know women who had jobs outside the home. I couldn’t imagine it because I just didn’t see it.?We must see what is possible in order to strive for it.?This is why I take what I do so seriously.?I have two daughters who are watching me. Every move. They are watching and observing me and the women around them to see what is possible for themselves.?

As women, we are often not in the rooms where the big business and finance conversations are happening. At dinners, we are often seated at the other end of the table.?For this reason, it has become somewhat of a mission of mine to encourage other women to start their own businesses. I am proud to say in the last 10 years, I’ve quietly pushed at least four other women to start their own companies. At least two of these women have confided that they are now out-earning their partners.?I tout that as one of my biggest successes! We need more women who are willing to lift each other up because then we all win. We can open doors for each other and make crucial career-changing introductions. We don’t need to fight for scraps and limited resources, but we can be scrappy and resourceful together.

As a young female business owner, I’ve experienced: inappropriate sexual comments and “jokes,” critiques of my clothing and solicitous comments about my body, an attempt to put a hand up my skirt under a table, constant persistence that I needed financial help (I did not), doubt in my professional abilities (especially, when I first became a mother), and I’ve probably had to listen to days worth of bloviating from men about their talent and financial standing as a preamble, of sorts, before beginning a project. I’ve also heard hours of testimony about much older men’s sexual prowess when they were in their prime.?Yuck.?And, God knows, I am probably missing a few gems.?If we want to change this, we need to make room for more women in leadership positions by encouraging more women to come to the table and stay there.?

I have been incredibly lucky to have surrounded myself with supportive women: my sister, Dana, has been one of my biggest cheerleaders: she lovingly refers to me as a “paper pushin’ priestess.” My maternal grandmother, Beverly, has rooted for me and provided me with financial advice like “oh, honey…make sure you and Paul are saving money.”?My mother-in-law, Lucette, modeled being an entrepreneur and working mother for my husband, which has influenced the way he views my career and contribution to our family. My friends, Marina and Abbie, always show up and show out — making introductions, offering advice, support, and have been incredible sounding boards for all the multitasking and guilt that comes with being a working mother.?My mom, Nina, who is always a call away to let me vent, offer suggestions on how to handle tricky dynamics, or blindly defend me with the same vigor I now see in myself when it comes to my daughters. Mom, you may not be able to clear this path I am on, but, I promise, without you knowing it, you have prepared me for this path. ?

There are some others that require mention too.?My dad, Russ, for setting the bar for how to be an empathic yet sturdy leader. He taught me that his work was important but my mom and siblings and I were everything. He never missed an opportunity to watch all of us shine. My father’s love and encouragement taught me what to expect in a partner. Thank you, dad. For everything. And my brother, Mike, for always raising the bar higher and higher— I didn’t know what I was capable of without your pushing.?At five years old, you took off my training wheels because you knew I was ready. When I first moved to New York in 2008, you bought me my first The New Yorker magazine subscription because you told me that “smart women were aware of what was going on in the world” and I’ve never missed more than a week since. Thank you for seeing my potential and dragging me into the ring. I know you always wanted a brother, but I hope I’ve proven to be a good sparring partner.

And Cameron.?Oh god, Cameron. You have trusted me with your career and I have always felt an amazing sense of responsibility to do right by you.?You are thoughtful, smart, funny, and resilient.?Your can-do attitude is the perfect character trait for all the follies and foibles that this Frick and Frack pack seem to get ourselves looped into. Wise well beyond your years, it has been an honor to watch you grow and mature professionally, but also witness the elegance and grace with which you navigate your life. You have always been (and continue to be) “right on top of it, Rose.”

It’s often said that the most important career choice a woman will make, starts with who they marry.?Paul. My Paul. I would be remiss if I didn’t recognize my loving and supportive husband, who has stood by my side and is my original sparring partner.?Paul was the one who took this “crazy idea” I had to start a company and pressed me to follow through with it. He asked, “Why not you?” He is the one who rolls up his sleeves and problem solves with me when I can’t figure something out.?He has shown up in a suit and tie to move heavy boxes so I could make a UPS pick up.?He hid my cellphone when I was in the hospital after our daughters were born so I wouldn’t miss the important stuff. He resets my head when I spin out and brings me back to the table time and time again. In fact, he saves a seat for me next to him at dinner party tables and then does my PR when I get there. He is my sturdy foundation and is always in my corner. There is just so much magic in him that I hope, one day soon, I can return the favor.

Growing and maintaining a company is a lot like having a child: There will be laughs, tears, and an accident or two, but as long as nothing is broken— you’ll be ok. There are more days than not that I look around and think: What am I doing? but I also think that might mean I’m doing it right. Maybe? I try to focus on the highs and learn from the lows. I have a file where I keep all the positive feedback and nice comments from clients just so I know I can look back at it if I ever find myself doubting my value. ?

Yet... at the end of the day, once the laptop is shut, the residual emails can be reviewed on my phone, the lunches are made, the kitchen is clean, the laundry is folded and put away— I go into Eden and Bowie’s rooms and look at them sleeping.?Quietly clutching their “stuffies” and I watch the duvet rise and fall with each breath, I kiss each girl on the cheek and sniff in that delicious little girl smell — knowing that it won’t be long before they will be grown and they will be the ones kissing me on the cheek goodnight.?And yet I am not sad and nostalgic or worry about what lies ahead for them.?My kids are fighters.?I have watched them (since utero) prove doctors, teachers, and nay-sayers wrong. I have watched them fail, shake it off, and try again with a different plan of attack.?Dodge. Duck. Reset. I’ve seen them in the ring and they move with such finesse. They are proven fighters. Tactical, brave, and incredibly resilient. My babies! And whenever they doubt that, they will have me, their mom, to put on gloves and spar with them.

Here’s to the last ten years.

And a big cheers, to the next!