Preston Winthrop-Smythe

By Preston Winthrop-Smythe, Founder & Managing Partner of Gilded Griffin Capital and LinkedIn Influencer

In today’s fast-paced, hyper-competitive business world, it’s easy to get caught up in the minutiae of qualifications, experience, and the perfectly formatted resume. We scan for keywords, dissect employment gaps, and generally assume that anyone not meeting our stringent, often arbitrary, standards isn’t worth our time. But I’m here to tell you folks, that’s no way to live.

Recently, I, Preston Winthrop-Smythe, Founder & Managing Partner of Gilded Griffin Capital, was sifting through a pile of resumes so glossy they practically reflected my own anxious face back at me, when one caught my eye. It was… different. Handwritten, in crayon. Not even the 64-color box with the sharpener, mind you. This was a basic eight-color situation, primarily executed in a bold, some might say aggressive, shade of red. The only prior work experience listed was “Burger King, one shift.” My colleagues chuckled, clearly not seeing the raw potential I saw. They were too busy comparing font sizes on their triple-spaced, Times New Roman masterpieces, I suppose. But something about this raw, unadulterated honesty spoke to me. I had to meet this unconventional candidate, Bartholomew “Bart” Scribble.

The interview was, shall we say, a unique experience. Let’s just say Bart wasn’t what you’d call a “conversationalist.” More of a “blinker.” But who am I to judge? Some of the greatest minds in history were introverts. Einstein probably wouldn’t have aced a behavioral interview, right? And besides, Mr. Scribble’s crayon resume did mention “enjoys coloring outside the lines.” In retrospect, I should have put more weight on that. When I asked him about his long-term goals, he simply pointed to a half-eaten box of donuts I’d brought in for the team. Bold, I thought. Ambitious. This was a man who knew what he wanted. After a five-year gap on his resume, filled with what I can only assume was deep introspection and personal growth, he was ready. And I was ready to give him that chance, even though this was for a management role. I hired Bart Scribble on the spot. My HR department almost staged an intervention.

He started on Monday, a mere hour and fifteen minutes behind schedule, but hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day. He even brought his own crayons, a thoughtful touch. Progress, I thought! Sadly, by 10:30 AM, Bart was gone. Vanished like a half-drawn stick figure in a sudden downpour. My team says it was a disaster. They point to the trail of melted crayons he left in the breakroom microwave. They questioned my sanity. But I stand by my decision. In a world obsessed with conformity, this young man dared to be different. He dared to dream in primary colors.

So, I implore you, fellow leaders, to look beyond the perfectly polished LinkedIn profiles and the meticulously crafted resumes. Embrace the unconventional. Take a chance on the crayon-wielders, the donut-gazers, the silent dreamers. You might just discover your next great innovator, or at the very least, have a truly memorable story to share. And if it all goes spectacularly wrong? Well, that just makes you a better, more enlightened, and slightly more bewildered, leader. Remember the best lessons are often learned in crayon. Or so I keep telling myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a ‘Help Wanted’ sign to draw.