Page 103 - Midas Touch

In one normal-sized room, the sweatshop operator had built two
mezzanine floors. Rather than allow workers eight feet of headroom, the
young workers had to squat, working in a space about four feet high.
Hunched over, they would silk-screen the bands’ logos on pieces of cloth,

inhaling the toxic fumes being emitted from the cloth and the inks, all
within inches of their faces. The fumes were worse than sniffing glue or
spray paint, as some kids would do in the West to try to get high. These
kids were in it 8 to 10 hours a day, every day.

In another room, there were rows of young girls sewing my hats and
wallets into rock-band products. When the sweatshop operator indicated I
could have any one of the girls I wanted for sex, the music died for me. I

was out of the manufacturing business.

Watching hundreds of kids destroying their lives for a paycheck, I asked
myself, “What good am I doing? What good do my products provide? How
do my products make the world a better place to live? What value do my
products add?” When my questions went unanswered, I knew I had my
answer.

I knew it was time for me to find out what I stood for. It was time for me
to find out what I cared about. It was time to find out who I was and what

made my life worth living.

In December of 1984, Kim and I left Hawaii with two suitcases and
nothing more. We moved to San Diego, California. We were beginning our
lives as teachers, teaching people to be entrepreneurs, not employees like
the kids in the sweatshop. Kim and I were becoming teachers outside the
traditional school system. This meant we had no government support or

credibility. Traditional schools would not touch us. We had to depend upon
our reputation, doing a good job, and giving our students what they
wanted. If we were good, students did our marketing for us. If we were
bad, they didn’t, and no more money came in.

The worst year of our lives was 1985. That year tested our souls, our
dreams, and our plans. It was December of 1985 before Kim and I received
any money from our new education company. We survived from December

of 1984 to December of 1985 on next to nothing. We took life one day at a
time. All I know is we operated on faith. Always in the nick of time,