In my youth, I was the kind of smoker who invites comparisons to chimneys and smokestacks. But after many failed attempts, I was finally able to quit, in part because of a device I invented in a nicotine-deprived fit of inspiration. It was stupid-simple—basically a placebo cigarette I would pretend to smoke to get through cravings—but it worked, for me and for the friends I shared it with.

Invented in a nicotine-deprived fit of inspiration, it was stupid-simple— basically a placebo cigarette I would pretend to smoke to get through cravings—but it worked, for me and for the friends I shared it with. | Photo: J.D. Scott

So what did I do with my brilliant idea? For more than a decade, nothing. But all the while, I harbored a dreadful thought: What if someone who didn’t write the idea off as stupid-simple got rich making it, and I ended up the Nikola Tesla of stop-smoking gimmicks?

And then in 2023, I heard about Pitch@ WCC, an annual competition held by the Entrepreneurship Center at Washtenaw Community College. It offered prizes ranging from $2,500 to $7,500 to competitors across five categories, as well as entry into a yearlong incubator.

This was it, I realized. The perfect opportunity to see if my idea was worth something, or if, like cigarettes, I could let it go.

I submitted a two-minute video in which I earnestly emoted about what I’d decided to call Seed Straws. After waiting so long that I’d accepted defeat, I got an email headed “Congratulations and Next Steps.”

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Tucked away behind the modern, gleaming WCC buildings that line Huron River Dr., you’ll find the Entrepreneurship Center sharing the Damon Flowers Building with the facilities department. Its humble location notwithstanding, the EC office is bright and cheerful, with large windows facing WCC Community Park and bookshelves bearing flyers for local entrepreneurship resources and literature on the formidable range of topics involved in launching a small business.

This was the setting for our first pitch workshop. A handful of my fellow contestants, some of whom had been in business for years, gathered around a long table, introducing themselves and nibbling on snacks. Leading the meeting was Michelle Julet, the director of the EC. Impressively accomplished and impeccably dressed, she made us feel welcome, but also made it clear we were there to work.

“We want a thriving, joyous environment,” she told me later. “But also, it’s not like this is just all fun and games. We do very serious programming, and we challenge the entrepreneurs to really create successful, tested ideas and innovation.”

After introductions, we broke into small groups, and a consultant who normally charges hundreds of dollars for her services gave me personalized business advice while I ate a free cookie. When we reconvened to practice our pitches, some of the contestants delivered intimidatingly polished presentations; others confessed to deep-seated fears of public speaking. As for me, I was woefully underprepared, and stammered through a rough list of ideas I’d scrawled on a Post-It.

But there were five more workshops in the weeks that followed, and my ideas crystalized more and more with every one I attended. I wrote a business plan, and an economic opportunity manager for Washtenaw County gave me two rounds of edits. I learned new jargon, like “go-to market,” “soft launch,” and “customer acquisition.” And I made friends with the other contestants.

Our businesses couldn’t have been more different. Max was developing KISS, an app to help people have safer sex; he’d already raised an impressive sum of money and put in a full-time job’s worth of work on top of his actual full-time job. Paula, a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer and badass biker chick, had invented Hooligan Wrap, a wearable heat shield that prevents leg burns from motorcycle exhaust pipes. And Ruby dreamed of starting a nonprofit mobile grocery store to bring healthy food to neighborhoods in need.

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May 11, 2023: the night of Pitch@ WCC. I’ve run through my presentation a half dozen times, tweaking it, tightening it, controlling the nervous quaver in my voice. Ready or not, it’s go time.

My fellow contestants and I mill about the event space in the Morris Lawrence Building, sharing nervous smiles. Past winners have set up vendor tables around the perimeter of the room, and tantalizing smells waft from the buffet. But how am I supposed to eat with all these butterflies in my stomach?

The competition begins with the WCC Student and Nonprofit categories. My friends’ presentations have evolved from rough lists and fear of public speaking to polished PowerPoints, compelling stories, and ambitious goals. Then the emcee announces my category: Start, for businesses in the idea phase. First, a mother-daughter team pitches D Beauty Bus, a mobile cosmetics shop serving communities of color. Next is Bennett Lai of Marupo Eats, who hands out mouthwatering samples of his egg tarts to the judges. Now it’s my turn.

I stand at the front of the room of a hundred people—my competition, my community, our friends and family, and a line of judges gazing up at me expectantly. I have three minutes to convince them that Seed Straws is a viable business idea worth the $2,500 prize.

“Raise your hand,” I begin, “if you, or someone you know, has quit smoking.”

Somehow, those three minutes are simultaneously endless and over in an instant. The judges grill me during the Q&A session. This might have intimidated me in the past, but I recall some good advice I got during one of our workshops: Questions are good. Questions mean they’re interested.

And I’ve got answers for each and every one. When the judges are satisfied, the emcee announces the next category, and I skitter back to my table. It’s only after I sit down that I realize my knees are shaking.

After the final business is pitched and the judges have retreated to their chambers to deliberate, my fiancé and I stroll around the fountain behind the building, discussing my chances. Throughout this entire experience, I’ve tempered my expectations, assuring myself that a loss would mean freedom from that nagging Nikola Tesla feeling. But tonight, I’m electrified by the energy of the event. For the first time, I let myself hope that I’ll win.

And to my surprise, I do.

I’ve spent the last year in the inaugural cohort of the Entrepreneurship Center Start-Up Incubator: more workshops led by top talent, more networking opportunities, more delicious food, and more community. With their help, I’ve transformed a nagging memory I was half-hoping I could walk away from into an LLC.

I’m in the midst of product trials and submitting a utility patent; Seed Straws’ soft launch is slated for later this year.

2024’s Pitch@WCC is May 8 and 9; community members are welcome. On May 8, Garrett’s in the WCC Student Center will host the Student, Art, and Skilled Trades pitches, as well as food trucks. The next evening, the Social Impact, Returning Citizens, Start, and Build Pitches will take place in the Morris Lawrence Building. The EC Start-Up Incubator is open to any local small business and is currently seeking applicants.