Young entrepreneurs are doing well and doing good

By Josh Tetrick

In an era of pessimism, some are seeing our economic and planetary problems as opportunities. A few stories show how selflessness is often (ironically) profitable.

Story 1: I'm running through a coffee plantation in Dembidollo, Ethiopia. I'm flagged down by a group of kids playing soccer with a ball made out of hundreds of rubber bands. Less than half of them are wearing shoes.

I'm here with TOMS Shoes, a company founded on a simple premise: For every pair of shoes you purchase, they'll give a pair to a child in need.

TOMS founder Blake Mycoskie realized that a disease called podoconiosis, or "podo," was leading to massive swelling and deformities in the feet and legs of Ethiopian children. The cause? Walking barefoot in silica-heavy volcanic soil (as the soccer-playing kids were).

"At this very moment, between 500,000 and one million Ethiopians are suffering from podo," Mycoskie said. "The statistics are mind-boggling. The solution to this problem, however, is tragically simple: shoes."

Thousands of shoes have already been distributed to children in Ethiopia. Thousands more are on their way.

Story 2: I'm exploring a slum in Monrovia, Liberia, with Katie Meyler. The slum, called West Point, is infamous for gang rapes, child prostitution, and machete-inflicted violence.

Meyler tells me about her own experience with violence and why she's trying to help women affected by it start their lives anew. She's starting a company, More Than Me, to employ and provide free education to rape victims in Liberia. The women help manufacture and design smart-phone cases, initially to be sold at college campus stores.

Meyler recently spent a month knocking on the doors of factories and asking them to employ and pay a living wage to the most stigmatized members of Liberian society. "Ten said no, but one said yes," she said. "Next month, production - and a new life - begins for the women of West Point."

Story 3: I'm dancing to live music with a group of social entrepreneurs in Philadelphia. Between songs, one of them, Samantha Beinhacker, tells me about her company, Urban Collective, which helps troubled kids write and record their own music.

"This process has [been] proven to increase self-esteem, reduce dependence on drugs and alcohol, and establish a network of shared aspirations," she said. "It's not just about the poverty of money for these kids; it's also about the poverty of opportunity."

One of the company's artists, Lykez, joined the program at 16. Now she's performed with some of hip-hop's biggest stars and completed her debut album.

All these stories share a mind-set: Don't cry for our planet or yourself; just solve big problems.

Whether through shoes, phones, or albums, seek connections between the world's needs and your strengths. Reprogram bugs to beat back malaria, engineer meat that preserves our forests and humanity, amplify one hero's voice, build a box brimming with clean power for Africa, or install roofs for a new generation of bright, green homes. Our collective challenges are creating paths to thrive.