The Founder Pipeline Starts at Age 10
If we want more innovators, we need to stop waiting until adulthood to validate brilliance.
Sometimes you can spot a founder before they even know what a startup is. Last night, I met one. He’s 10 years old.
I was at Barnes & Noble combing through every shelf of the Business section. I’ve been on a journey to better understand the psychology of startup founders—what drives them to build, how they see the world, and why they become who they are.
I spent an hour carefully selecting a stack of books, and in my hands I had Masters of Scale by Reid Hoffman. I had just flipped to a page titled “Big ideas are contrarian”, which read:
“When you have a contrarian idea, the kind that almost everyone says ‘No’ to, it leaves you the space to create something. And to create something big, you need a lot of space.”
That’s when I overheard a conversation coming around behind me from the next aisle.
“Dad, there’s a LEGO set that has a thousand pieces! Isn’t that awesome?”
“Yeah? How much is it?”
“Five hundred dollars!”
“That’s not awesome.”
I smiled, and I gasped. Because that’s a spark I recognize. And it is awesome.
So many founders I’ve spoken to trace their origin stories back to LEGO sets, to tinkering, to building entire worlds with their hands and imagination.
The dad’s response was completely reasonable. But there was something about the excitement in that little boy’s voice—curious, ambitious, energized by complexity. I couldn’t let this kid’s wonder get shut down.
I closed my book, turned around with a smile, and jumped in.
“Hey! I just overheard that you want a LEGO set, and I have a story to tell you about my friend!”
I told them about my friend Anthony—who found out about the game Minecraft as kid, but his parents wouldn’t buy it, so he made and sold googly-eyed cotton balls he branded “American Weebles” to friends and neighbors until he earned enough money to buy the game himself. Today, 15 years later, he’s a gifted technical builder and serial founder.
Some people are just born to build, and I could tell that this little boy was one of them.
Then came a moment that truly floored me.
“Tell her what you did this morning,” the dad said.
“…what?” the boy answered shyly.
“He sold his Pokémon cards for $1,000 this morning.”
My founder radar was right! I knew it!! This kid is different. This kid is special.
Then, it got even better.
“When he was in second grade, I got a call from the teachers saying that he had a bunch of money in his backpack and they weren’t sure what was going on.
“It turns out that he decided to get rid of old toys that he didn’t want anymore. So he brought them to school and put them together into different bundles, and then he ran a raffle that the other kids paid to enter and win.”
I. Got. Chills. This little boy had all of traits I see in great founders—agency, entrepreneurial spirit, creative problem-solving, and audacious self-belief.
I explained to the dad that I interview founders for my blog and that his son’s story sounds a lot like the founder stories I’m writing.
I turned to the the boy to introduce myself.
“I’m Lisa, what’s your name?”
“Uhm… Grant.”
“How old are you?”
“Uhm… 5th grade... I’m 10.”
His dad said that he’s a little shy but they’re working on it. Absolutely precious.
I noticed that Grant was holding a boxed set of The Hobbit and Lord of The Rings. Brilliant, thoughtful, imaginative. Everything about this kid radiated potential.
I reached out for a handshake and said:
"It’s so nice to meet you, Grant. You are so brilliant. You are so special.”
Because I know what early affirmation can do.
Being told you’re brilliant at 10 years old? That can build confidence, shape identity—and unlock a future.
I’ve been researching what makes founders different. Is it nature or nurture?
His dad and I chatted a little more. I asked if he himself was an entrepreneur or a business owner; he’s not a founder, but he is a VP of Engineering at a startup that recently got acquired. He said:
“It takes a different kind of person to start something.”
He’s right. Not all technically gifted people become founders. There’s a difference between engineering excellence and founder audacity. One builds with precision. The other builds with fire.
And that fire is what I saw in Grant.
I asked the dad if they had any plans for Grant to do a summer program. He said that he’ll be doing a summer camp, where they have a range of activities for learning and recreation.
He mentioned that last year, Grant planned to play soccer—but after a foot injury, he taught himself how to code instead.
This mirrored a story I heard just the day before from a founder who switched from pro baseball dreams after a shoulder injury to launching a future of work startup—a SaaS platform with a baseball card-like design for the employee dashboard.
These patterns aren’t just coincidences. They’re signals. And they’re telling us something.
Some people are wired with an unstoppable drive. When they're told no, they don’t shut down—they reroute. They channel that energy into new ideas, clever workarounds, and ambitious creations.
It’s a kind of intrinsic motivation that you can’t teach, but must nurture.
What I’m learning as I write founder stories is that certain visionary cognitive traits appear early and should be deliberately nurtured through support, resources, and validation.
We need organizations that invest in kids like Grant—not just intellectually gifted education, but founder-focused programming. Summer fellowships. Maker funds. Microgrants for curious, weird kids who think differently.
Because a kid who started making his own money in second grade by raffling old toys? That’s not just precocious. That’s a glimpse of our future.
Kids like Grant grow up to change the world. If we don’t nurture their spark, the world loses the light they could become.
Imagine if, instead of Girl Scouts or Boy Scouts, we had a national program that focused on early mentorship and investment in future founders like Grant.
Let’s build a pipeline that starts in early childhood.
Let’s fund curiosity before it gets crushed by a world of doubt.
Let’s put technical and entrepreneurial mentors in the lives of driven kids before they get told they don’t belong.
Here’s my individual ask:
If you’re a STEM professional, a scientist, an engineer, a founder—get involved. Mentor. Sponsor. Speak at a school.
Validate the next Grant.
Don’t hold back.
Tell them what you see.
One handshake. One sentence. One spark of belief.
That’s all it takes to change a child’s trajectory.
Say the thing that might shift their self-perception forever.
The world needs more builders and they need to hear it early.
Lovely. You can add me to your statistic: grew up with LEGO, aged 7 went to art class only to reteach them to other kids in the kindergarten for $1 (dad made me return the $ tho). There is something there.