Eleven years ago, Medical Transcription (MT) was the in thing, a sunrise industry. It had become a law in the US—all doctor-patient encounters should be recorded or printed in readily-available documents. That opened a plethora of jobs here and abroad.
Our family jumped on the bandwagon and put up a school (Optimum TransSchool, Inc.) to train would-be transcriptionists. There were already many schools in our area, but what's one more?
Our vision was to be the leading MT Training Center, delivering an excellent industry-based program for our students to be job-ready upon graduation. We bought chairs for the waiting area in preparation for the influx of enrollees.
On our first day, we had one inquiry. He wasn't too sure about enrolling, but with the magic of our persuasion, he became our first student. And the only one—till two weeks later.
Our chairs in the waiting area remained empty. And during our first, second, third, and fourth years, enrollment was sparse. Meanwhile all the other MT schools closed one after the other. Meaning, MT was not as hot as originally touted.
We kept our ground, despite non-revenue. On our seventh year, we agreed with our partners that capital infusion will be stopped. We likewise agreed that at any time we (those who are manning it) feel it's time to close shop, we should—and declare bankruptcy.
Now on our 10th year, we're still here.
Not earning oodles of income (far from it), but gaining self-fulfillment and a sense of purpose. Our vision is fulfilled with our every graduate. About 98% are employed and are leaders in their offices. In fact, before our students could finish their course, they already have assured posts somewhere.
MT companies call up, "What are you teaching your students? They are excellent! Can you give us more?"
MT company executives have come to our school to convince our students to join them as soon as possible.
Why are we still here? Our school is a happy place. Graduates come and visit with boxes of goodies to tell us stories of success. Some students enroll because they have personal problems—but see their days at our school as calming respite. Graduation days are bitter-sweet affairs; some regret leaving, but they must, because a job is waiting elsewhere.
Why are we still here? Sheer grace.