If you had told me two years ago that working on a school project and building a startup would teach me similar lessons, I wouldn’t have believed you. But stepping into both worlds—one structured and academic, the other messy and unpredictable—reshaped how I think about business, teamwork, and myself.

Where It All Began

My first taste of “real business” came unexpectedly. For a Business Management IA, our teacher challenged us to design a business plan for a problem we saw around us. I was used to group assignments with deadlines and rubrics—so we dove in, mapping the perfect solution for everyday campus hassles. We imagined our project as a pitch for the next campus unicorn. I obsessed over market research, unique value propositions, and cost structures.

But, like in real startups, nothing went as planned. Our assumptions got challenged at every turn. A survey flopped. Our MVP, a simple website, crashed. Groupmates argued over priorities when exams approached. We pivoted, split roles, and I learned quickly that being the “team lead” was less about delegating and more about listening, resolving conflicts, and absorbing feedback.

How My Startup Experience Took It Further

Outside the classroom, I joined a student-led technology startup. We worked late evenings and weekends, inspired by stories of student founders who changed the world before they graduated. Here, deadlines were set by us, not a teacher. Motivations were purely internal (and sometimes, caffeine-fueled).

I finally understood the phrase “fail fast.” We tried ideas—some flopped spectacularly, others stuck in ways we never expected. The stakes were small, but every win felt huge. Every failure taught us more than a “perfect” assignment ever could.

We built prototypes, tested with real users, and reworked our pitch deck more times than I can count. Each time, I saw the patterns:

• Adaptability wins. Every plan is wrong the second it meets the real world. The best teams regroup, rethink, and try again—quickly.

• Communication is everything. In the startup, clarity over text, video calls, and meetings saved us from chaos (and from stepping on each other’s toes).

• Resilience is a superpower. Rejections and setbacks are normal. What matters is how fast you get up and get back to building.

Making School and Startups Work for Each Other

What I did for grades started blending with what I built for passion. I started applying business concepts from class (like the 4 Ps, marketing funnels, break-even analysis) directly to our startup. At the same time, the raw, unpredictable energy of the startup made me think bigger in class—questioning assumptions, searching for new ideas, and speaking up when everyone else stayed quiet.

There’s something powerful about switching hats: one moment, you’re pitching a class project for marks; the next, presenting an idea to investors or beta users. It forces you to communicate differently, adapt rapidly, and take ownership, whether the assignment is academic or entrepreneurial.

Building For Impact (Beyond Grades and Profit)

The best part? Both journeys blurred the lines between “work” and “learning.” I stopped seeing business plans and startups as ends in themselves and began to see them as tools to explore, solve problems, and create something lasting.

If you’re reading this as an IB student, young entrepreneur, or anyone curious about the overlap between academics and the “real world,” here’s what I’d share:

• Start local, but think global. The solution to your school’s problems might be needed in colleges or communities far away.

• Build with friends (but learn to lead). Your greatest lessons will come not from textbooks, but from late nights, brainstorming sessions, and even arguments with teammates.

• Treat every project as a startup, and every startup as a learning project. There’s no better way to grow.

I’m still a work in progress. My mindset, like my projects, keeps evolving. But if there’s anything I’ve learned from business—whether in boardrooms or school corridors—it’s that the journey is never linear, failure is a feature, and sometimes, your best idea is just one brave experiment away.