Entrepreneurship: A Newcomer’s Mindset

Every summer, after visiting my cousin near Croatia’s capital, I head down to the coastal town of Zadar. It’s the oldest continuously inhabited settlement in Croatia, dating back to the 9th century B.C.E.

I grew up in Toronto, but in my early teens, my parents sent me to school in Zadar, which was then part of Yugoslavia, for two years.

Although there was a period of adjustment—living in a new country, adapting to a different school system, and learning a new language—as a curious 13-year-old, I took it all in with wide eyes.

Everything challenged the norms I was used to in my quiet suburban neighborhood in Toronto.

Maximizing What You Have

Zadar felt like a ghost town in the afternoons, with most shops closed for the traditional midday break. But in the mornings and evenings, the town came alive. Crowded cafés buzzed with conversation, laughter spilled into the streets, and people mingled late into the night.

What struck me was how space was used to its fullest. Tiny laneways, barely wide enough to walk through, were packed with restaurants and cafés. Gift shops, no larger than a small bedroom, displayed handmade items in tightly curated arrangements. A popular pastry shop operated from little more than a counter tucked into a wall.

And yet, it all worked. It all made sense.

I remember walking Zadar’s narrow cobblestone streets, passing ancient Roman ruins and medieval churches on my way to school. I wore a blue smock, as all students were required to do, and often stopped to buy a cheese burek—a flaky, savory pastry whose smell filled the air.

Our school was a four-story neo-classical building that overlooked the Adriatic Sea. From the classroom windows, I could see the island where my parents were born. We sat two to a desk, sharing old wooden tables. Every time a teacher entered the room, the class stood in unison, only sitting once the teacher sat. It was a simple but powerful sign of respect.

Seeing with Fresh Eyes

Have you ever noticed how your sense of wonder sharpens when you travel to a new country? Everything feels fresh. Your senses are more alert. You observe more closely and start asking better questions.

That mindset—the curiosity, the openness, the willingness to challenge what you think you know—is what I’ve come to call the newcomer’s mindset. It’s something I’ve noticed among the most successful entrepreneurs.

When they start a business, it’s as if they’re stepping into a new culture. They let go of assumptions. Curiosity leads the way. They don’t just accept the way things are; they question how things could be.

Assumption Testing

This mindset becomes especially important in the early stages of building something new.

Too often, we become attached to our initial ideas. We’re convinced that our solution is “it.”

But certainty can be risky. Ideas need to be tested.

Have you truly examined the market you’re entering? Do you know your key competitors? Have you sought feedback from the people who matter—industry peers, potential customers, or early critics?

Like a newcomer learning how a new country functions, entrepreneurs need to step outside their own perspective. Assumption testing shows how things actually work, not just how we imagine they should.

Our minds can play tricks on us. A business can’t live only in our heads. It comes to life when paying customers engage with it, when the real world pushes back, and when unexpected challenges force us to adapt.

This process takes patience, research, and a willingness to explore within limited resources.

An Unexpected Bonus

The newcomer’s mindset has an added benefit: you’re more likely to notice things others overlook.

It’s often in the small, easily missed details where innovation starts to take shape.

Even in a saturated market, this way of thinking can make all the difference. In Zadar, the tourism boom has brought a flood of gift shops, most of them selling the same kinds of souvenirs. But one particular shop caught my eye.

The owner had carefully curated a collection of handmade, one-of-a-kind pieces that reflected the Dalmatian landscape. I couldn’t resist. I left with a hand-pressed print by a local artist. It features two donkeys right next to a stone wall (stacked stones), a symbol deeply tied to the spirit of the region—and to my own roots.

Rooted and Open

I believe in carrying the newcomer’s mindset with me wherever I go.

At the same time, I value being grounded. For me, the donkey represents just that—stability, tradition, and quiet strength.

There’s no conflict between the two. In fact, the most rewarding work often happens when you are open to the new but still connected to where you’ve come from.

Zadar's cobblestone streets

A restaurant. Notice how they maximize the space.

Another example of making the best of a small space.

Where I went to school. You can see the island of Ugljan in the distance.

The hand-pressed print I bought.