Three years ago, I walked into ENGN 09: Management of Industrial and Nonprofit Organizations full of skepticism. The name intimidated me and reminded me of all the reasons why I had chosen to study in the United States instead of Colombia. I didn’t want to have a career in business administration, like most of the people in my country’s upper middle class did. I wanted to stand out. So, signing up for Barrett Hazeltine’s course felt almost like a death sentence. I could see my future panning out — first job in McKinsey, like my sister, an MBA at Harvard, my brother’s dream, and a lot of number crunching.
I sat down and waited for class to begin. I expected a young man in a suit to walk and pretentiously dictate the principles of consulting, but instead an older man with a grin on his face entered the room. “Are we friends, John?” he said, shaking a guy’s hand. “What about you, Gina?” The girl in the front row just laughs. This was Barrett Hazeltine, now a Professor Emeritus who continues to teach one of the most popular classes at Brown.
He looks around and prompts his students to tell him what makes a CEO a good leader. At first, no one answers — the fear of speaking up still has everyone paralyzed. “Come on people,” Hazeltine says. “I know you know the answers.”
A girl in the back yells a brief response. After nodding, he begins to climb the stairs, gradually approaching her. He walks past the crowd of awed students and shakes her hand. “What’ your name? Kelly? Ok, we now know Kelly here has what it takes to be a good CEO.”
The class laughs, as the tension wears off. A man who has over 40 years of teaching experience, Hazeltine has become a Brown staple. Despite the daunting name, his class is one in which people enjoy themselves, have the privilege of listening to exceptional guest lecturers — the founders of Nantucket Nectars, a buyer from Bloomingdale’s and one of the creative directors of JWT — and learn why businesses succeed.
By the end of the first week, I loved ENGN 09 more than any of my classes. I went to Hazeltine’s office hours and asked him thousands of questions. He was always available to resolve my doubts and to expand on class material. His class had hundreds of students, and he made time for each and everyone of them.
Soon, my friends heard me speaking of Hazeltine’s assignments with passion and excitement. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the final project: a case study on Oscar de la Renta; I couldn’t wait to act as a consultant for a company that revered and respected. I created a 10-year business plan for the designer, thought of a strategy that would expand the brand while retaining its luxury status. I was hooked.
So, when I walked into Barus & Holley, after spending five hours typing a 15-page final exam, I no longer felt irked by the class. The name and the syllabus made me smile because I now understood why Fisher Price had made the decision to create a new toy, why Nintendo had grown to such dimensions and how Nantucket Nectars had morphed from a dream to an actual business. I had tasted the business world, and you know what? It wasn’t so bad.
Barrett Hazeltine taught me to speak up in a lecture room, to trust my gut and back up my ideas. He showed me the value of eloquence and how to be a good leader. He even inspired me to create something new and to think outside the box.
It’s been three years since I took his class, but he still remembers me. I ran into him at the Brown-Harvard football game, to which he proudly attends with his wife, and he waved at me before jumping off his seat to celebrate the Bears’ victory.
So, I may not be a COE concentrator, but after taking Hazeltine’s class, the idea of an MBA at Harvard sounds pretty tempting.
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