One Bead

We set the bar high, but you help us set it even higher! Donate today to help One Bead reach even more students in 2022.

For more reasons to give, check out this newsletter written by our CEO:

Five Reasons to Give

2018/2019: When choosing photos for this project, I struggled with 2018 and 2019. On the surface, it seemed like not a whole lot happened during this two-year span. But now, I would argue that this is because everything happened.
 
Our team doubled in size, and with that growth came a renewed sense of self. We became more confident as teachers, school partners, and co-workers. We went all in for our students. But not without growing pains.
 
When I was in high school, my mom tore a page out of a magazine with a quote by Michelangelo on it. It read, “If people knew how hard I had to work to gain my mastery, it would not seem so wonderful at all.”
 
By the end of 2019, my team and I were ready to unveil our Sistine Chapel. Instead, we found ourselves on Zoom, navigating remote learning amid a global pandemic. And while it may seem like we rose to the challenge–the truth is we learned how to pivot, how be scrappy, how to rewrite strategic plans, long before 2020.
 
So 2018 and 2019, this is my love letter to you. Your sweaty, tear-stained, sleep-deprived days are what make this journey all the more wondrous. ✨

2013: Before there were full-time employees, there were interns. And before there were interns, there were college reps–this post is my love letter to you. And to all my friends/family who continue to volunteer their time to One Bead in significant (albeit oftentimes unglamourous) ways.

2013 was my senior year of college. It was also the peak of One Bead’s bead-selling era. For proof, look no further than my iPhone 5 photo archives. For every collection of blurry photos outside of a fraternity house, there is a series from afternoons spent tabling (selling beads) outside of Saga (the dining hall).

In between studying for finals, I hosted volunteer workshops disguised as wine nights where friends would come over and help me fulfill online orders in exchange for a glass of pinot. Those were the days. Kind of. Our packaging was made from recycled bags and the production required a home-made stencil and customized stamp. Not exactly sustainable when you’re shipping hundreds of bracelets across the country…

But I learned a lot during this time. I learned that college students love tank tops. I learned that having merchandise also requires you to know things about sales tax (it varies by state) and profit margins (🤯). I learned that counting your inventory at the end of the year includes every. single. jump ring. And I learned that predicting the right ratio of t-shirt sizes for a bulk order is not a forte of mine as evidenced by the boxes of leftover shirts under my bed ( ).

A couple of years later, a mentor said, “What do you want your legacy to be? Do you want to be known for the number of beads you sold or the lives you changed as a result of your programming?” I chose the latter and he challenged me to build a business model reflective of that decision. It was a game-changer.

However I kept the name One Bead–as a reminder of our roots, but also a marketing tactic. It turns out that being part of “One Bead” in middle school is a lot cooler than the “Youth Leadership Program”. 😏⚡️