December 11, 2025 | Common House, Julia Street, New Orleans | By Kim Braud
I'm not a natural networker. I never have been.
While others work the room with practiced ease, introducing themselves to strangers and inserting themselves into conversations mid-flow, I gravitate toward the bar with a glass of wine and a strategic vantage point. I watch. I observe. I decide who I need to meet, and then, only then, do I make my move.
I am not shy by any stretch of the imagination, but I am intentional. When you're returning to New Orleans after building businesses elsewhere, and you're bringing your entire professional life back to New Orleans, every connection matters. So, when I received an invitation from Jennifer Simpson to attend the Entrepreneurs' Organization (EO) Louisiana's 20th Anniversary Accelerator Reunion, I approached it the same way I approach every networking event: with wine, a corner, and a plan. Except this time, my strategy didn't work. And I'm incredibly grateful it didn't.
I am returning to New Orleans because my heart is here. I'm bringing The Couvent Collective and my other businesses back home. I'm building on three decades in financial services, a successful entrepreneurial exit, and expertise in creating systems that scale, with the intention of helping other small business owners who look like me.
However, I'm also returning to a city that has changed dramatically since I left. New Orleans is a different city post-Katrina, but the infrastructure feels the same. Companies are leaving, and some have not recovered from the pandemic. The departure of entrepreneurs and businesses has resulted in expertise and economic decline. The population loss continues to impact our neighborhoods and our economy. So, coming home means more than finding an apartment and updating my driver's license; it means strategically positioning myself within the business community that will support, challenge, and collaborate with me for years to come, and doing my part to help my city grow again.
This is why I don't randomly network. Every event I attend, every conversation I have, every relationship I build needs to align with where I'm going, not just where I am. So, when I walk into a networking event, I default to observer mode. Glass of wine. Strategic corner. People watching. In that order. To accomplish the goal.
It's actually quite entertaining. People assume the woman sitting alone, watching quietly, must be someone important. They're curious. Eventually, someone always comes over. And then the conversation begins on my terms. I've made peace with being an introverted extrovert. It works for me.
Common House on Julia Street is exactly the kind of venue that reflects New Orleans' evolution, historic bones with contemporary sensibility, local authenticity with professional polish. It's where the city's established business community and emerging entrepreneurs find common ground.
As I entered the foyer that night, I picked up my name badge with every intention of executing my usual playbook: bar, wine, corner, observe. Except I never made it to the bar.
Joshua intercepted me almost immediately. Not with a sales pitch or a business card thrust, but with genuine curiosity and actual conversation. We talked for what felt like 35 minutes. Maybe longer. The kind of conversation where you lose track of time because you're actually engaged. Then others approached. More conversations! And then I noticed something that stopped me cold: they were listening. Actually listening! Active, engaged, present listening, the kind that's become so rare in professional settings that encountering it feels almost shocking.
In most networking environments, people listen just long enough to find their opening to talk about themselves. Their eyes glaze over. They scan the room for someone more important. They nod while mentally rehearsing their pitch. These people listened like my words mattered. Like understanding my journey was more valuable than promoting their own. Like connection trumped transaction. It was disa, and impressive.
The evening's program illuminated why this culture of genuine engagement permeates EO Louisiana. This was a celebration of two decades of entrepreneurial resilience and community building.
EO Louisiana's Accelerator Program launched 20 years ago as one of just three beta test sites nationally. The timing was significant: the program emerged in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, when New Orleans' business community desperately needed support systems, when entrepreneurs were rebuilding not just their companies but the city's entire economic foundation.
What started as a Louisiana innovation has since expanded into a global initiative. Today, 90 chapter programs operate or are launching across 27 countries. The model that was tested here in post-Katrina Louisiana is now empowering early-stage entrepreneurs worldwide.
The program's design is elegantly simple yet profoundly effective: it's a two-year learning program for business owners whose companies generate at least $250,000 annually, designed to help them scale past the $1 million mark. Through peer learning, proven curriculum, and access to mentors and successful business owners, participants gain practical tools to take control of their business growth.
The results speak for themselves: one out of every six EO leaders serving in local, regional, and global leadership roles today began their entrepreneurial journeys as EO Accelerators. And 97% of past Accelerator participants would recommend the program to their peers. This is evidence of a program that delivers on its promises and a community that genuinely invests in each other's success.
After the formal presentation, Jennifer Simpson found me. Jennifer had sent me the original invitation, and watching her navigate the room, I understood why she's effective at identifying people who would benefit from EO Louisiana's community. She doesn't recruit, she connects. She doesn't pitch, she listens, understands, and makes strategic introductions.
Throughout the evening, I kept encountering the same quality in person after person: a genuine interest in understanding my journey, my challenges, my goals. No one tried to sell me anything. No one dominated the conversation with their own accomplishments. Everyone engaged with curiosity and offered value without expecting immediate reciprocity. This is rare and not something I am accustomed to. This is exactly the kind of community I need as I build in Louisiana.
I'm in the midst of a significant transition. I'm moving. I'm building a new startup in addition to my existing businesses. I'm establishing myself in Louisiana's business ecosystem. I'm creating partnerships, securing clients, and building the infrastructure that will support long-term growth. In this context community is essential. I need peers who've navigated the complexity of bringing businesses into Louisiana's unique regulatory and economic environment. I need advisors who can provide honest feedback when I'm heading in the wrong direction and encouragement when I'm on the right path. I need the conversations I can't have anywhere else.
During the event, as I talked with EO Louisiana members and Accelerator participants, I recognized something I've learned over my many years: the quality of your peer group determines the ceiling of your growth. Surround yourself with people who think small, and you'll think small. Surround yourself with people who are building, scaling, and solving complex problems, and you'll rise to that level.
The energy at Common House that evening was exactly what I needed. Not performative hustle culture. Not empty motivational platitudes. Just genuine entrepreneurs doing the difficult work of building sustainable businesses while supporting each other through the process. That's my kind of people!
As I reflect on that evening at Common House, I'm struck by how my usual networking strategy failed, and how glad I am that it did. I didn't get to observe from my corner. I didn't control the timing of conversations. I didn't carefully select who to approach based on strategic calculation. Instead, I was pulled into a genuine connection from the moment I walked in. I experienced what it's like when a community actually lives its values rather than just listing them in a mission statement. I encountered the rare combination of professional excellence and human warmth that makes both business growth and entrepreneurial wellbeing possible.
That's not something you can strategize your way into. That's something you recognize when you encounter it and commit to when you realize it's real. For an introverted extrovert who typically people-watches from the corner with a glass of wine, being immediately engaged and genuinely welcomed was disorienting. It was also exactly what I needed. My networking strategy didn't work that night. And I couldn't be more grateful.
Sometimes the best strategy is being open to connection when it finds you.
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