Selling Hope Comes With a Responsibility

When my daughters were young, I homeschooled them for several years. One of our favorite field trips was the library.

We didn't just read stories. We sat in the reference section with those enormous government career books that analyzed virtually every occupation imaginable. We would flip through page after page discussing what different jobs actually looked like.

How much education would they require?

What did they typically pay?

Which parts of the country had the greatest demand?

Was the field expected to grow, remain stable, or decline?

Those conversations started when my girls were only six, eight, and ten years old. I wanted them to understand that choosing a career shouldn't begin with excitement. It should begin with information.

That lesson stayed with me throughout my own life.

At one point I seriously considered becoming a traveling ultrasound technician. I loved the idea of working independently and traveling to different locations. But my research uncovered something the school wasn't emphasizing.

A local program was graduating far more students each year than there were available positions in the Kansas City area. Unless graduates were willing to relocate, many would never work in the profession they had just spent thousands of dollars preparing for.

That changed my decision.

Later I looked into medical transcription. Again, I became excited before I finished my research. Hospitals were rapidly adopting voice-recognition technology and electronic medical records. The long-term outlook wasn't encouraging. Fortunately, I was able to negotiate a partial refund because the changing job market hadn't been clearly explained before I enrolled.

I also considered earning a degree in history because it could be completed from home. Once again, I researched the employment outlook before committing years of my life and a significant financial investment.

Every time, I asked the same question:

What does the future actually look like?

That is why I struggle with what I see happening in the notary industry today.

There is nothing wrong with teaching notaries.

There is nothing wrong with writing books, creating courses, offering coaching, or mentoring new professionals.

But there is something wrong with selling opportunity without also explaining the reality.

In many parts of the country, the notary signing industry is already heavily saturated. Thousands of new notaries enter the market every year while many experienced professionals compete for the same assignments.

New notaries often hear stories about flexibility, independence, and impressive income. What they don't always hear is that it may take months to receive a first assignment. They don't hear that they may need to register with hundreds of companies before the phone begins ringing consistently. They don't hear about the unpaid cancellations, the equipment costs, the vehicle expenses, the continuing education, the insurance, the taxes, the long days, or the fierce competition from experienced signing agents.

Many eventually succeed.

Many do not.

Neither outcome should be hidden.

When someone pays for a mentorship or a training course, they deserve more than encouragement. They deserve accurate information that allows them to decide whether this business is the right fit for their market, their finances, and their goals.

If a mentor truly cares about the people they teach, market saturation should be part of the very first conversation—not something students discover only after they've invested hundreds or even thousands of dollars.

Selling education is not the problem.

Selling hope without discussing the obstacles is.

The goal shouldn't be to convince everyone to become a notary.

The goal should be to help people make informed decisions.

That's what responsible career guidance has always looked like, whether you're talking about healthcare, education, technology, or the notary profession.

People deserve the truth before they spend their money.

And sometimes, the most valuable advice a mentor can give is, "Research your local market first. This may be a wonderful opportunity—or it may not be the right one for where you live."

That isn't discouraging people.

That's respecting them.