The longest night of Sabin’s life was the one he spent in a Worcester, Massachusetts, jail cell. He was a teenager and not even old enough to drive, but there he was, surrounded by the type of people you would find in jail late at night. Between the bouts of fear, one thought kept running through Sabin’s mind: How had it come to this?
Of course, a criminologist studying Sabin’s childhood up to that point would have probably said the lad was right where he was supposed to be. Sabin had the textbook background of a delinquent: raised by a single mom, little money, but also resourceful and bright. It’s a mistake to think all aberrant teenagers aren’t smart. It’s the smart ones who figure out how to get ahead on the street; the dumb ones just follow along. From an early age, Sabin had the hustler’s knack for making the best of a bad situation. Had he not found himself in a jail cell, he would have been known as precocious and charismatic.
It’s not that Sabin was any sort of street tough or hard-core criminal. In fact, other than getting busted for scalping concert tickets in Worcester that night and resisting arrest, the worst crimes he had committed were graffiti, fighting, and truancy. Yet sitting there in that cell, Sabin saw a possible future, one where he spent his days in and out of jail as he worked dead-end jobs. But there was also another side to Sabin that was hardworking and sweet. Which is what made young Sabin a bit of a contradiction. He was the jock who was friends with the dropouts and the druggies. He was a varsity athlete who made the honor roll, but also fought, did drugs, was habitually suspended from school, and had several run-ins with the police. He had over thirty jobs before heading to college and was just one of those kids who could have gone in either direction.
And Sabin was well aware of his dichotomous personality. He knew he had the abilities and talents to break away from the dark path he was on, but also felt a strange compulsion to break bad anyway. Why not? He had all the excuses. But thoughts of his mother, the one who had sacrificed everything to raise him as well as she could, had always kept Sabin from going over the edge. He danced on it, but couldn’t make himself jump. Thank God for a mother’s ability to inspire a guilty conscience …
Like many who had stared into the abyss, Sabin decided to change his ways that night in jail. And just like many who had made such vows, Sabin wouldn’t wholly keep to it. But sometimes the willingness to change is enough. Not long after Sabin was released, he got a phone call from a guy named Stephen. Sabin had been expecting his call, ever since his mother told him she had signed him up for Big Brothers Big Sisters of America, a nonprofit organization whose goal is to help all children reach their potential through professionally supported, one-to-one relationships with volunteer mentors. Sabin had been on the waiting list for two years.
Like a typical teenager, Sabin was leery of this older guy who wanted to be his “brother,” which sounded more to him like an authority figure. He answered the phone entirely prepared to tune out everything Stephen was about to say. Except Stephen didn’t sound like any other authority figure Sabin had heard. He sounded like, well, just another guy. It helped that Stephen wasn’t that much older than Sabin at the time, just twenty-two. It also helped that Stephen was a guy’s guy, who loved sports, beer, pizza, and most of the things Sabin liked.
That phone call was the beginning of a friendship that continues to this day, more than twenty years later. Sabin’s behavior didn’t change overnight. He was still a teenage boy who got into trouble, but he eventually grew out of it. By the time he left for Hofstra, Sabin could look back at his night in a Worcester jail as the turning point. He had decided to change his ways—and then Stephen came along and made him stick to it. Sabin was the best man in Stephen’s wedding, Stephen named his son after Sabin, and to the day, the two are closer than ever.
SOMETHING THAT MATTERS
It was sometime around the fall of 2014 that Jim was up late one night reading Blake Mycoskie’s Start Something That Matters. Mycoskie is the founder of TOMS, whose unique business-charity model gives a pair of shoes to children in poor countries for every pair it sells. Mycoskie’s book chronicles the evolution of the company as well as the founder’s adherence to “conscious capitalism,” which he describes as “creating a successful business that also connects supporters to something that matters to them and that has great impact in the world.” It was a concept that struck a chord with Jim.
Since he was a teenager playing hockey with dreams of going pro, Jim had fantasized about giving back to his friends and family. He imagined how good it would feel to give tickets to his games to those who meant the most in his life and those who had contributed most to his success. It wasn’t philanthropy really; Jim’s young mind hadn’t considered giving tickets to strangers who were less fortunate. But it was this idea of giving back that had always appealed to him. If he ever went pro, Jim understood at a very deep level that he wouldn’t have done it on his own. From his parents, who sacrificed for his education and hockey dreams, to the coaches who saw a gifted kid and spent their off-hours honing those skills, Jim had a long list of people he wanted to recognize.
Of course, Jim never had a chance to make good on those childhood dreams. After college, he moved into sales, which, while lucrative, didn’t give Jim the platform to give much of anything. So, he tucked his charity dreams away, thinking that they probably had died with his hockey ones. Then everything changed. He was running a business that had the great fortune of being featured on Shark Tank. He and Sabin had grown the business into a successful nationwide company, with franchises popping up all over the place. It was at this moment, sitting there one night reading Mycoskie’s book, that the dream he had forgotten was remembered.
Unlike Mycoskie, we didn’t start Cousins Maine Lobster with philanthropy in mind. Perhaps in our wildest dreams we thought that it was a possibility, but only after we had achieved a measure of success neither of us dared to dream about. Even with the small measure of success and notoriety we had achieved by the fall of 2014, we were far from the threshold where philanthropy entered the picture. Only large, multinational corporations with billions in sales could afford philanthropy, right? We were small fry. To even think about it seemed to be more about our own ego than whether we had the means and resources to give back. No, we weren’t ready for philanthropy. What a crazy idea!
But Mycoskie also writes this: “When you have a memorable story about who you are and what your mission is, your success no longer depends on how experienced you are or how many degrees you have or who you know. A good story transcends boundaries, breaks barriers, and opens doors. It is a key not only to starting a business but also to clarifying your own personal identity and choices.”
What Mycoskie says is that philanthropy isn’t something you tack on after you’re successful. It’s one of the key ingredients that makes you successful. Philanthropy, charity, giving back … these should be as much a part of your story as the lobster industry is for ours. They should be as embedded in your company’s culture as Jim’s backyard is in ours. Too often, entrepreneurs look at philanthropy the way we did: “It’s something I’ll get to.” When? When you have a million dollars in sales? “Eh, not yet.” How about ten million dollars? “Well…” OK, you give me a number. “Um…” This doesn’t mean we don’t get all the costs, rainy-day funds, and investments that chew up a company’s sales figures. Believe us, as guys whose sanities rise and fall with lobster prices, we get it. And because we get it, we know the million-and-one excuses that convince you that the day for philanthropy hasn’t arrived yet. But, of course, the day will never arrive, as long as you think like that. It’s always just a little farther over the rainbow.
In any event, that night, reading Mycoskie’s book, Jim felt his earlier passion for giving back return. He took to heart Mycoskie’s words about how success isn’t a reflection of how much money you make in sales. It doesn’t matter how many zeros are on the end of your bank statement. It’s about whether giving back is incorporated into your story. So, why shouldn’t charity be part of Cousins Maine Lobster’s story?
They certainly had a platform and an audience. For as small as the company still was, Shark Tank had given us a measure of notoriety that was far above our station. We had done everything we could with that notoriety to build a successful, growing business, but perhaps that wasn’t the best way to use it. Perhaps it would be better to give thanks for the luck we had early in our business by giving something back.
THE RIGHT WAY TO GIVE BACK
The next day, Jim called Sabin and his father to discuss Cousins for a Cause. The name had come to mind almost immediately the night before, once Jim had started to think about using the company for philanthropy. Both Sabin and Steve loved the idea, but then we had to answer the most basic question: How would we give back?
Surprisingly, Big Brother Big Sisters of America didn’t immediately come to mind. One of Jim’s first ideas was to hold a contest of sorts for some underserved constituency, probably children, and give the winning applicant a gift certificate or something, much like the Make-A-Wish Foundation. Jim further proposed filming the awarding of each certificate to promote the cause and build awareness. We kicked the idea around a bit, but got hung up on what we would be giving out. Certificates for lobster rolls? A scholarship? Money?
The discussions seemed to go on endlessly. First days, then weeks, then months went by and we still found ourselves no nearer a solution than the day Jim had proposed the idea. We kept getting hung up on how we could incorporate philanthropy into our business—in short, what made sense for a lobster-truck company? Apparently, not much, because we couldn’t find an easy answer that was both practical and possible. And it wasn’t just what we would give back, it was how. It turns out philanthropy can be a complicated process for beginners, and we were still two guys trying to run a business. So, the idea languished.
But much like other answers that had escaped us at first, the solution was staring us in the face. Eventually, Sabin suggested that we should get more focused. What he meant was that instead of spending time trying to come up with a creative idea about what to give away, we should instead pick something we would want to support. Our earlier idea of helping children stood out, at which point Sabin mentioned his continuing involvement with Big Brothers Big Sisters. By then, Sabin was a Big Brother himself to a boy named Lawrence, and had been associated with the organization for nearly twenty years.
It was the perfect idea. Instead of trying to compete with other philanthropy organizations, we would support one we both believed in. It solved the problem of what we would give and how we would give it. It also greatly simplified the task of setting up a philanthropic foundation, since Big Brothers Big Sisters is a massive operation that has a presence in every state. Finally, like everything else we tried to do with our company, it was genuine. Big Brothers Big Sisters was part of Sabin’s story, which made it part of Cousins Maine Lobster’s story.
The only problem is that Jim wasn’t a Big Brother and had never been a Little Brother. So, while Sabin went to work on setting up Cousins for a Cause, Jim contacted Big Brothers Big Sisters and put his name in the ring. In short time, he was matched with a boy named Jake, who remains Jim’s Little Brother to this day.
As our foundation took shape and began to grow, our enthusiasm for the cause we had adopted as our own also expanded. Or, we should say, it became more focused. You must understand that the bond between a Big Brother and a Little Brother only works if there’s some measure of respect and friendship. As Sabin had feared when he first spoke to Stephen, a Big Brother or Big Sister can’t come off as an authority figure, as a dad or a mom or, worse, a teacher. Most of the kids in the program have rebelled against authority figures their whole lives. If you come at them with a bunch of rules and to-dos you will instantly lose their attention. “You’re just like all the rest,” is what they’ll think. And who can blame them? For a troubled kid who has lacked any meaningful mentor in his or her life, meeting with an authority figure is the same thing as being punished. They’ve done something wrong again.
But, of course, Stephen hadn’t been like that at all. He was in the Coast Guard at the time, but he didn’t throw a bunch of “bootstrap” nonsense at Sabin. In fact, he didn’t do much at all except talk about what he liked and listen to what Sabin liked. And, wouldn’t you know it, they liked a lot of the same things. There’s a reason it’s called Big Brothers Big Sisters, because a sibling is more a friend than a parent can ever be. And that’s really what these kids needed—a friend who knew a thing or two about life. That’s what connected with Sabin. He finally met someone who didn’t throw a bunch of rules at him, but also called him out on his bullshit. It was just what Sabin had needed at the time, and he never forgot it.
The larger point is that there’s an unspoken age restriction when it comes to the organization. We don’t mean that Big Brothers Big Sisters won’t accept you if you’re above a certain age, or that a kid will only bond with someone under thirty. It’s more of an attitude, a way of approaching a kid that shows you still remember what it was like being a kid. It just so happens that younger people get this better than the older generations. It struck us that, as we started down this road, it would be better if we spoke directly to those younger people—the very ones who should be Big Brothers and Big Sisters. We didn’t simply want to help the organization with fund-raising—although that is the chief purpose of Cousins for a Cause—we wanted to be ambassadors for the organization and encourage others around our age to become involved as well.
Which is why we try as much as possible to be out in front talking about Big Brothers Big Sisters. We go to their conferences, we discuss them in interviews, and we spend time talking to others about why they should join the organization. We don’t do this because we’re trying to promote Cousins for a Cause; we do it because we think that everyone has a chance to give back—and they should.
LESSON
REDISCOVER YOUR PASSION
In January 2016, we had the opportunity to go on ABC’s The Chew, a daytime talk show featuring celebrity chefs. Before we were set to tape, we asked the producers if we could promote Cousins for a Cause and Big Brothers Big Sisters of America. Not only did the producers accept, they centered the whole show around it. Boy, but were Lawrence and Jake excited to be on television!
“Hopefully, I’ll be a Big Brother one day and change somebody’s life as Sabin has changed my life and his Big Brother has changed his,” Lawrence said to the cameras.
“Jim’s my best friend,” said Jake.
Pardon us, there’s some dust in our eyes …
We mentioned earlier that part of being an entrepreneur is giving up the very thing you love to do. If you’re a baker with dreams of a chain of bakeries, you won’t be a baker anymore. We loved going out with the food truck, but we simply can’t anymore. Your passion turns to your business, even as your heart stays fixed on the thing you love to do.
But that’s why it’s so important to include philanthropy in your company’s story. It turns what is otherwise a very serious moneymaking enterprise into something more. It imbues your entire organization with passion and with a purpose. You no longer bake delicious cakes to make money: you bake delicious cakes to give back to someone in need. We now see Cousins Maine Lobster as a purpose-driven company, a company that matters, because we created something that matters. So, while we can’t go out on the trucks as much as we would like—just as you won’t be able to do only what you love if you’re successful—we have held on to that passion. We go to work every day knowing that part of what we do helps someone less fortunate.
Our challenge to you is to replace that passion that you can no longer enjoy with philanthropy. Find a cause that means something to you, that’s a part of your story, and weave it into the story of your company. Turn your company into something that matters. And don’t wait! Don’t fall into the trap of saying you’ll get around to philanthropy when the time’s right. You know when it’s the right time? Now. Do it now.
There aren’t words to express the happiness Cousins for a Cause—and being Big Brothers to Jake and Lawrence—has given us. We sometimes think we do it more for us than for them, because it’s just that damn awesome. And as an entrepreneur, it’s a joy you can have, too. We hope you find it, just as we did. Trust us when we say that it will be the greatest part of being an entrepreneur.