How to Sell Yourself - A Workshop


Welcome to Snafu, a newsletter about influence and persuasion in a chaotic world.

Today’s essay comes from a sold-out session I led this week with senior leaders on how to sell yourself without pressure.

If you're enjoying Snafu, it would mean the world to me if you would share it!

Was it sent to you? Subscribe here.


How to Sell Yourself – A Workshop

I taught a 100+ person workshop this week for Sidebar, a community of senior leaders in tech. Today, I thought I’d share the session – along with a write-up about it.

You can watch the full workshop here:

video preview

Robin’s Pumpkin Patch

My first business – if it can be called that – was at 5 years old and entirely attributable to my father. My dad took me outside to a patch of recently cleared ground and had me plant pumpkin seeds.

All summer long, I was responsible for watering and weeding these growing pumpkin plants. Then, when the plants grew pumpkins, my dad had me place them around a little stand with a sign that read “Robin’s Pumpkin Patch.”

Over the next month, some friends and I would dress up in scarecrow costumes – head completely covered, hay sticking out of our gloves and boots – and flag down passing cars.

There was no skin showing, so that when cars would come by and we’d start moving, they’d try to figure out where the motion sensor was.

If one of my friends was dressed up in the scarecrow costume, I’d run out after the car, say “I’m Robin! Welcome to Robin’s Pumpkins Patch. Would you like to buy your Halloween pumpkins today?”

When I think of that business, the only thing I can think of to describe it is “joyful persistence.” After I realized that I could sell these pumpkins I’d grown, I was delighted.

It wasn’t self-promotion; it was adorable. I was being of service by being authentically, enthusiastically myself.

Exercise:

What’s your authentic attitude of self-promotion?
Mine is enthusiasm. What’s yours?

Getting Fired as a Personal Trainer

One of my first jobs out of college was as a personal trailer. Anyone who has ever been associated with gyms knows that gym culture is all about selling memberships and personal training sessions. I started personal training because I liked fitness, but found that I had no clients.

Within about two weeks, the owner of the gym sat me down and said, “You’ve got no clients. We’re spending money on you. Either have some clients by the end of the week, or you’re fired.”

I froze.

I tried to walk the floor. I tried to talk to people. But I had a needy quality – desperate, afraid of getting fired. So, unsurprisingly, I got fired.

We’ve all experienced selling ourselves from a place of need – asking for a raise, asking for a date, pitching work – when it feels gross. It felt gross to me, and it feels gross when someone does it to me.

What’s funny is that a couple of weeks later, I was walking down Valencia Street in San Francisco and saw a guy leaning against a wall, holding his back in pain.

I walked up to him and said, “You look like you’re in pain. I’m a former athlete. I’ve had a back injury. I might be able to help. What’s going on?”

It turned out he needed help. He wanted support. He wanted personal training.

The next client I met was in the locker room of the UCSF swimming pool. He asked what I did, and I said, “I’m a personal trainer.” He said, “Oh, I’m looking for a personal trainer. Tell me about your work.”

The connection came from a genuine desire to connect, not to sell.

I learned that there are two versions of self-promotion. One comes from delight, enthusiasm, and service. The other comes from need.

When I promote myself from need, I freeze. When I show up from service, things work.

Exercise:

When’s one time you felt slimy? What were you doing?
When’s one time you felt good? What were you doing differently?

Stakeholders at Robin’s Cafe

In 2016, I opened a café and restaurant in the Mission District of San Francisco.

I had no restaurant experience. Other than bussing tables in college, I didn’t know what I was doing. I opened it in three weeks.

It’s called Robin’s Cafe, and it’s still around today, though I don’t own it anymore.

At the time, I lived in the neighborhood. I’m a self-taught dancer, and the café was housed inside ODC – a 40-year-old nonprofit dance center that owns real estate in the neighborhood.

The corner where the café opened was rough. There was a parking lot across the street with prostitution and drugs. Three years later, when I sold the café, that same corner was a kid’s playground.

The café worked because I knew exactly who I was serving.

Employees – I deliberately created Robin’s Cafe as a great place to work.

Investors – I borrowed forty thousand dollars from family and friends. These people made the business possible. They were literally invested in its success.

Landlord – ODC owned the building. If the café failed, that reflected poorly on them. If it succeeded, it made them look good. They wanted a place where dancers, parents, instructors, and neighbors could gather.

Customers – Tech workers moving into the neighborhood. Twelve-year-olds coming for dance class. Parents buying coffee. Customers mattered—but they weren’t the only people who mattered.

Me – Financially, I needed to earn something. Emotionally, I needed to care. If I wasn’t interested, excited, or learning, I wouldn’t keep going.

When things got hard – we had break-ins, flooding, competition, city permitting, and a homeless encampment down the street – what kept me going was knowing who I was in service to.

A successful business serves many people at once. Once you identify all the people you serve, selling becomes easier.

Exercise:

Apply this to your own business or career. List out as many different people or groups that you serve as possible.

If you truly show up in service, selling yourself is easy.


3 Things I’ve Loved This Week

Quote I’m Enjoying

“I’ve always imagined that paradise is a kind of library.” -Jorge Luis Borges

Book I’ve Loved

I just started reading Win Every Argument: The Art of Debating, Persuading, and Public Speaking by veteran debater Mehdi Hasan. It is a great primer about debate – both the tactics and strategy.

I started reading the physical book, but have also enjoyed the audiobook, which has recordings of many of the transcripts Hasan shares.

Website I’m Excited to Share

I’ve been writing on the Internet since 2008 – and most of it lives on my personal website. I've been meaning to update my personal website for years, but real business keeps getting in the way.

Well, I finally did get it updated, and am so pleased to have a hub for all of my work that I’m not embarrassed to share.

Check it out: www.robinpzander.com, kick the tires, and do let me know with errors!


Want more?

Snafu Conference 2026

The Snafu Conference is an immersive 1-day experience about authentic selling in a chaotic world. The summit is next week, so this is your last chance to join us!

Attend Responsive Conference

A decade ago, the Responsive manifesto warned that the rate of change was accelerating, and the future would become harder to predict.

That future is here.

Established in 2016, Responsive Conference brings together 275 CHROs, CPOs, founders, and executives for an immersive two-day experience about work.

The conference is built for leaders who want new ideas, tools, and a community that understands what it's actually like to lead amidst uncertainty.

This Might Work: A Collection of How-Tos

Stuck, uncertain, or trying to figure out how to do something new? This Might Work is a collection of practical, first-person experiments in learning by doing.

Inside, you’ll find essays on writing, fasting, raising a puppy, buying a used car, buying a house, telling better stories, selling your work, and navigating change.

In a world changing faster than ever, This Might Work is a field guide for trying something small, safe, and reversible — then adjusting course and trying again.

Download it for free or buy a physical copy on Amazon.

Until next week,
Robin

This newsletter is copyrighted by Responsive LLC. Commissions may be earned from the links above.

2560 Ninth Street Suite 205, Berkeley, CA 94710
Unsubscribe · Preferences

Snafu: authentic influence in a chaotic world

Join 7,500 founders and operators and receive a weekly email about influence. And when you join the newsletter, you'll get a copy of my new book "This Might Work: A Collection of How-Tos!"

Read more from Snafu: authentic influence in a chaotic world

Welcome to Snafu, a newsletter about authentic influence in our chaotic world. Eighteen months ago, I was sure the AI tsunami would wash away our work at Zander Media. Instead we've had our most varied year yet. As AI remakes every industry, the value of real humans talking honestly on camera only grows. Was it sent to you? Subscribe here. Real Humans on Camera Still Matter 18 months ago, I predicted that our work at Zander Media would have evaporated due to the coming AI tsunami. I'm very...

Welcome to Snafu, a newsletter about authentic influence in our chaotic world. AI adoption is a spectrum and it's dangerous to calibrate your urgency off your closest peer or the best in the world. If you're enjoying Snafu, it would mean the world to me if you would share it! Was it sent to you? Subscribe here. The Myth of AI Adoption My wife works for a frontier AI company. She's an engineer, working 80-hour weeks, deep in the weeds of the most advanced AI tools. When I look at her screen,...

Welcome to Snafu, a newsletter about authentic influence in our chaotic world. I've spent the last few years giving entrepreneurs the same advice over and over. I recently distilled it into ten myths about business, persuasion, and building that trip up otherwise capable people. If you're enjoying Snafu, it would mean the world to me if you would share it! Was it sent to you? Subscribe here. 10 Myths of Entrepreneurship I've been spending a lot of time lately with entrepreneurs in the early...