Entrepreneurial Finance Case Study

I leaned back in my chair as I opened my notebook. Entrepreneurial Finance is a good class; I really do enjoy it. Today was a particularly interesting topic for me, as we were talking about segmenting markets to better predict demand. We talked about TAM, target markets, segmentation, targeting, etc. But what really caught my attention was when the professor mentioned the geographical segmentation of the United States. “Some say that the United States, in terms of culture,” he clarified, “is more like about five or six smaller countries. That’s why you have to be aware of the different cultures in the different the regions of the US when choosing where you want to operate your business.” I really enjoyed learning about this because to me, learning
I hate that term and do not understand it. How could someone refer to someone else’s homeland like that? To generalize an entire region as a place that is uninteresting, and is better left traveled over, strikes me as extremely closeminded. I am a very rooted person, and where I choose to live and who I choose to associate myself with means a lot to me. I suppose that is why I was so upset- Wisconsin is like an old family member of mine that the world seems to continuously misunderstand; it raised me, cared for me, and loved me, but the rest of the world is unable to see that side of
I grew up in the beautiful countryside; the nearest town had a population of about 600 people. Some pity me for it, but I loved (almost) every minute of it. When I was young, about four years old, I loved to be outside and get dirty. You could tell by my platinum hair, sun-kissed skin, and calloused feet. Many days I found myself playing outside with the horses- sitting on the fence and petting them, feeding them grass from my side of the fence because they always preferred it to their own grass. One day something called me into the small patch of forest just next to the pasture- I don’t remember what it was: a good climbing tree, a rabbit, or maybe one of our chickens? Whatever it was, I needed to explore it so I pranced into the forest to find out more. But, unfortunately for me, the forest is flooded with Arctium Minus, known as the Common Burdock. These plants with tall stalks of small prickly brown seeds called burrs love to wreak havoc by sticking their burrs to fur, yet the Common Burdock was not always so common in America; in fact, it is an invasive species brought to America by the English and French settlers in the 1600’s. Even though I had no idea of this when I was four-years-old, I would have wished that the Burdocks stayed Europe. Because, just like burrs love to stick to fur, they also love to stick to the Shirley-temple hair of innocent young girls; my poor curls had turned into an afro of burrs. The burrs invaded both my hair and