The Team

Team building is an art. It involves carefully and strategically weaving the dynamics and energy of individual personalities to create a balanced, cohesive tapestry that is seamless in its focus and mission, at least while on the clock. While I cannot claim to have mastered the art, I did learn some profound lessons, and developed viable strategies around team building.

Second only to the customers, the team is the most integral part of a retail operation—and maybe not even second, as the relationship between the customers and the team is truly symbiotic.

Perhaps one of the surprising aspects of team building that I came to realize over the years was that the team comprised not just individuals, but it was a living thing all its own, the same way that a marriage is its own force beyond the two individuals in the relationship. Looking out for the team and its overall health, as well as its individual members, required making decisions that maintained balance and equanimity. Sometimes those decisions meant passing on a sparkling candidate with a dream résumé because my instinct told me that their personality would never mesh with the existing team. I had learned that the inevitable drama that was bound to result from such personality conflicts would drastically outweigh the benefits of hiring that sparkling individual. It also sometimes meant that an individual best suited for the job was not promoted and a lesser-qualified individual was.

In this regard, team management is like a chess game. It involves strategic thinking, weighing alternatives, then executing moves based on the immediate dynamics of the game (the team) at hand.

I often found myself in an interview, explaining to a candidate why someone’s past cannabis experience and knowledge were of little interest to me, much to the disappointment of the individual who clearly assumed their prior cannabis employment history made them a shoo-in for the job. Conversely, this information was received with optimistic surprise by the individual who thought they never had a shot at a job with my company because of their lack of cannabis experience. I explained to both that I could teach anyone all they needed to know about cannabis, in the scope of retail at least. That was just book-learning. What I couldn’t teach but what was infinitely more valuable was their personality. More specifically, how they would blend with the existing team and how well they would mesh with the customers. Using this metric alone, I could often tell within a matter of minutes if a candidate was a yes or a no. I applied this same metric when evaluating internal candidates for a promotion.

Several times over the years, I found myself with a vacancy to fill. I always tried to promote from within whenever possible. In mentally reviewing my list of candidates, I often had to choose between a newer employee with the right skill set for the job and a more long-standing veteran who I knew wanted the job. In those instances, I had to weigh not only longevity and a solid-performance track record but also a lesser skill set against someone who was the best fit. More often than not, I chose to promote the less skilled individual, though knowing I’d have to spend more time on training and development, because that was the best decision for the balance of the team as a whole. To promote a newer—even if more skilled—staff member over a less skilled veteran would have meant potential disgruntlement, resentment, and decreased performance, even potentially creating a security risk, that could have easily infected the team at large.

I had not realized when I opened 530 Collective in 2009 that owning and running a business was more about people management than anything else. Had my degree been in business, I probably would have known this from the outset, but as it was, I learned this point by living it, as I had done in so many other areas.

Somewhat to my surprise, employee management was one of the most rewarding aspects of business ownership. To watch an individual’s personal and professional growth, to see them successfully challenge themselves, push their boundaries, and become a leader in their own right—and know that I had helped facilitate that growth—was incredibly gratifying.

One of the most beautiful examples of this was Monika Bent. “Mo” started with 530 Cannabis in 2015 as a kitchen assistant for the 530 Edibles line. Although very quiet, she demonstrated one of the strongest work ethics that I’ve ever seen. She showed up on time, did anything asked of her, and never brought any toxic drama, a quality that, as I learned, is both rare and valuable to any team.

But I also learned very quickly that she did not like helping the customers. Fortunately, her position in the kitchen didn’t require direct customer interaction, but in a small retail environment, she was forced to interact with clients occasionally when restocking the display cases with edibles. She hated that part of her job.

When the time came to close the edibles kitchen and lay off my head chef, I felt certain that I would lose Mo as well, given that the only remaining positions were customer-facing. Consequently, I was shocked when she came to me, nervous as hell, and told me she really wanted to stay on with the company. She said she loved working in the cannabis industry; she loved the company and didn’t want to leave. I still remember the fear in her eyes that I had already made the decision to let her go.

I was direct with her. I told her that any position I moved her into would involve customer interaction, and I knew that was something she did not enjoy.

She told me she that she could learn how to be nice to the customers.

My heart went out to her, and I was impressed by her surprising and bold request. I knew she was absolutely genuine.

I said, “OK, prove it.”

And she did. Mo learned how to ask customers open-ended questions in order to help guide them toward the most appropriate products, and she gained confidence in using her extensive personal knowledge of the product to help them make the best selections for themselves. Surprisingly—perhaps to herself more than anyone—Mo was damn good with the customers.

There were a couple of other reasons why I kept her on. I had learned that she had been with Taco Bell for seven years prior to coming to my team. My very first real-world job at age fifteen and a half was with Jack in the Box. I stayed for one year. I knew exactly what fast-food work is like, and I was even more impressed by her tenacity to stay in that industry for as long as she had. That alone set her apart.

Additionally, I figured she knew what a shitty job was like and would, consequently, have much more appreciation for a good job. I’ve no doubt it was that appreciation that drove her to express her desire to stay.

The final reason I kept her on was because at that time, and still to this day, very few members of my teams have challenged me or surprised me. Mo did both.

She knew what she wanted; she had the confidence to support her position, and she found the courage to ask. In exchange for her courage and the competence that went with it, I gave her an opportunity.

When I opened my second store, Synergy, Mo told me she wanted to be part of the new team, so I promoted her to head security guard. She kept asking for more responsibility and kept showing me she deserved it. From security, I moved her onto the management team and eventually put her in charge of METRC, the touchpoint for every cannabis operator’s inventory within the state’s track and trace system.

To this day, I am still inspired by Mo’s courage and willingness to always push herself to grow, to improve, and to be her best.

Sometimes keeping the team’s equilibrium meant knowing when to overlook the policy breach of an otherwise superb employee because losing them would completely disrupt the entire operation.

Shelley Mason came to the 530 Cannabis team in the middle of 2017 after serving seventeen years in the medical industry as a practice manager and a medical assistant for a urology surgical group. Initially, I didn’t have enough direct interaction with Shelley personally to evaluate her work performance, but time and time again her name would come up very positively in the weekly manager meetings. She began to show herself to the team, and by default to me, as thoughtful, thorough, proactive, and extraordinarily competent.

Consequently, when I began building out my team for the second store, in 2018, I knew I wanted Shelley on it, and I wanted her toward the top, directly reporting to me.

She moved to Synergy initially in an administrative role, but her tasks quickly grew into full accounts payable and receivable, human relations, and even budgeting. She was never in a formal management role, but she acquired some of those responsibilities as she became one to whom the staff turned for support and guidance.

During Synergy’s rollout in 2018 and the exponential growth of that store, I turned to her as well, time and time again, to be my sounding board, even more often than I consulted those who were technically higher on the company organizational chart.

And yet during our last year together, I almost released her from employment.

The incident involved Shelley taking company files home so she could catch up on some work over the weekend. While well intended, this was a serious breach in company policy for several reasons, some of which had legal ramifications. For Shelley, the lapse in judgment could not have been more poorly timed.

When the incident with Shelley struck, I had just spent months trying to repair another employee debacle with a long-term manager. Ultimately, my attempts had failed, and I’d had to accept their resignation. So, when Shelley’s blunder occurred, I found myself jaded, fed up, and simply out of patience with regard to employee infractions.

I was in no mood for second chances and had almost made up my mind to let her go over the single policy violation.

Fortunately for both of us, I slept on it. I had learned that with any decision I found myself conflicted over or that would have a profound impact on the business, a solid night’s sleep before that final decision had always proved to be a good idea.

In the optimism that always comes with each new day, I made the decision to evaluate Shelley based on her overall performance and devotion to the companies rather than to focus on the one incident of poor judgment and dismiss her past positive contributions. I kept her on and in doing so, made one of my best decisions to date. I trusted my gut; she was simply too good to lose.

That last year that we were together, and particularly the last several months up to the High Times acquisition, she became both my right- and left-hand woman. I am not joking when I say that I knew the teams could get by without me, but to try getting by without Shelley would have been devastating.

The strategic thought process that is required in employee management, as well as other areas of the business, was something that served me well in building a strong team and recognizing potential in certain individuals who initially needed some polishing or nurturing and development to reach that potential. Once developed, they became invaluable members of the organization, often in roles unrelated to or far more advanced than their initial position. One individual in particular comes to mind in this respect.

Colby Law was in the first round of interviews I conducted for the Synergy store in the summer of 2018, and I almost didn’t hire him.

The interviews that day were for the consultant position, my revamped term for budtender. Since that position spent nearly every moment of their shift directly engaged with the customer, I was looking for individuals who were outgoing, enthusiastic, and dynamic. While I did not see those traits in Colby and, consequently, did not think him suited for the consultant position, I did notice that he had a calm confidence about him that I liked.

It was because of that calm confidence, combined with my buyer’s stamp of approval, that I offered him a position in security.

In the security role, Colby thrived. He demonstrated an impeccable work ethic combined with an uncommonly positive attitude. He showed up motivated and in a good mood every day. Not the bubbly, cheerleader type of good mood—plenty of other staff filled that role—but just genuine positivity. This quality, combined with an unparalleled work ethic and unshakable poise even when dealing with the most difficult customers, eventually earned him a place on the management team.

Several months into his new leadership position, Colby started to bring me ideas. But, more important, it was the thought process behind his ideas that really got my attention.

It was not particularly unusual for my managers to bring me ideas. I had developed a routine of holding regular roundtable meetings with my management teams, sometimes weekly if needed, but at least twice a month. These roundtables were a time for check-ins, discussions about employee relations, conversations about company policy changes, brainstorming, and even the occasional bitch session.

What I fostered in my team was the confidence to bring forth ideas to improve the company as a whole, and I provided a safe environment in which to do it. I told them repeatedly that I was only one set of eyes and one brain and that I needed all of theirs to help further the growth of the company. They knew I was always looking to improve, always striving to do something better tomorrow than we did yesterday. I told the team that even though I had a lot of ideas myself, they were not all good ideas, and that I wanted their thoughts on how we could improve. If their idea seemed solid, we would roll it out.

So, the fact that Colby was bringing me an idea was not what set him apart. Instead, it was the fact that his ideas were strategic and logistic; he was thinking outside the box, preempting potential problems and coming up with his own solutions, all without anyone asking him to do so. That was just how his mind worked, and I couldn’t believe I was just now discovering it.

In hiring interviews, he was able to read between the lines of what the interviewee was saying and drill down to potential impacts to the company; he was able to project possible impacts to the operations as a result of COVID and find viable work-arounds; he was able to see data-driven ways to streamline our delivery service to maximize efficiency.

In short, he was thinking about the business the same way that I thought about it. And he did all of this without my ever asking.

It had taken me almost two years to discover this about Colby, but I started immediately looking for more ways in which I could cultivate his talent, even coaching him directly in ways that would enhance what already came naturally to him, and in particular, how it pertained to company operations and management as a whole.

I also immediately moved him from his floor-management position into a position within the buying team, which was struggling at the time. It was my hope that Colby would bring his strategic-thinking and problem-solving skills to bear on the buying department.

I never would have thought that the quiet individual whom I almost passed over would prove himself to be such a competent and rare asset to the team.

As much care as I took to build the team strategically and hire individuals who I hoped would mesh and balance with the existing team and help move the companies forward in a positive way, I will be the first to admit that I failed as often as I succeeded in that area. While some of the individuals who ended up being the greatest assets to the team were the ones I never expected to excel, many of those whom I hired because of their rock star résumé never lived up to expectations. Some individuals simply know how to interview well, to say all the right things to get the job, but then once they have the job, it becomes clear that they really have no interest in the work. Human nature and psychology are funny like that.

The harsh reality is that employee management can be downright devastating, both personally and professionally.

This was particularly true in one instance with a long-tenured employee whom I had promoted several times—and whom, against every rule of business ownership, I had also considered a friend—but seemingly out of nowhere began failing in his duties. After months of attempting to rehabilitate him, I was forced to accept his resignation. He had been with the company for six years, and I was bitterly disappointed and deeply saddened by his departure.

In another instance, I discovered that a relatively new employee had an aptitude for financials and immediately shifted them to an appropriate position. Several months later, I learned that the financials were in terrible disarray—likely intentionally to distract from the significant variances. This individual had covered their tracks well initially, but the paper trail had caught up to them. Upon further investigation, I discovered that money was missing. In this case the anger I felt over the alleged betrayal outweighed any disappointment over their departure, and I happily accepted their resignation.

Inevitably there were times I would have to terminate an individual’s employment. This was never something I took lightly, and this was perhaps the hardest part of my job as a business owner. Unless I was out of town and the situation required immediate attention, I always administered employee terminations myself. I felt that I owed them the respect of delivering that message myself.

The most unexpected and conflicted of these situations took place in January 2019. I was not on-site for the incident, but I was later able to review security camera footage.

A verbal altercation had taken place in the dispensing room at 530 Cannabis between one of the store’s regular customers and a budtender. A hate-based slur directed toward the budtender made its way into the dialogue. At this point, a manager got involved and proceeded to escort the customer out of the building, which was absolutely the right thing to do and in line with their managerial job duties; hate-based anything was never tolerated in any of my establishments.

The customer left but stood in the parking lot still engaged in conversation with the manager, who was standing in the open doorway. The customer then said something that escalated the tension further. The manager turned back into the store, picked up a lobby chair, and returned to the doorway, brandishing the chair over their head, advancing on the customer. Fortunately, other team members intercepted them and returned both chair and manager into the building.

In principle, I applauded the passion with which the manager stood up for their coworker and stood against hate-based speech, something the company had a staunch and long-standing policy against. However, any employee brandishing anything—excepting possibly colorful language—against any other individual could have only one possible ending. I released that manager from employment, making sure to have a security guard in the room when I did so. The customer I banned from shopping in the store indefinitely. Never a dull moment in the life of an entrepreneur!

With team members like Mo, Colby, and Shelley, I learned to look beyond the résumé, sometimes beyond the initial impression, to discover the talent that was beneath, waiting to be given the opportunity to shine. I was always thrilled to discover diamonds in the rough. They are the ones that make team building worthwhile.

Over the years, I’ve received numerous compliments on what I have built and what I have achieved. Some of the praise has been directed at the stores, some given to me personally. The compliments often include words like “professional,” “knowledgeable,” and “pioneering.” Sometimes the source of these accolades tells me how proud I should be of all I’ve done and all I’ve accomplished. I receive the praise politely but always with an awkward feeling because those compliments really don’t belong to me. They belong to the team, as I politely tell whoever is standing in front of me.

I tell them that while I may have the vision, it is the team that brings that vision to life. I tell them that I could not have done anything without my team. I can’t mean that fiercely enough.