How My Alma Mater Is Killing My Start-up
An alumna of Syracuse University recalls the aggravating tale of trying to start a T-shirt company and trademarking the word "Syracutie."
Two years ago, I had a million-dollar idea. Or at least, a couple-hundred-thousand-dollar idea.
After 22 years of daydreaming about ways to conquer the world, one of my daily brainstorming sessions with two friends over a bottle of wine on my couch yielded gold.
"What about stupid T-shirt ideas, like that guy who made the yellow smiley faces? He's got to have multi-millions," I said.
"What about something for 'Cuse? [my Alma mater] Like syra...juice?" The pondering continued. "Syracuse...syracute...syracutie?"
There was a pause, and then all three of us erupted in laughter. "Oh my gosh, SyraCUTIE—that could actually work!" I was triumphant.
"Yah, but what about for guys?" My friend Tyler interjected. "Syrabooty?"
That night, I mulled over our conversation. Syracutie really could be something. After some market research and trademark investigating, I decided to create my first company.
Everything was going perfectly with my trademark application until I called Syracuse University. "Hello," I greeted the woman on the other line at the campus bookstore. "I have an idea for a t-shirt that I would like to sell to students. Can you tell me the process of getting my idea reviewed?"
The bookstore lady patched me through to Dan*, the university's trademark and licensing director. "So what is this idea you have, Alyson? We have to make sure it doesn't infringe our current trademarks."
"I am in the process of trademarking the word "Syracutie," I confidently reported, "and I was hoping to sell it in SU's bookstore."
To my surprise, Dan was supportive. "That's a great idea, Alyson. I'm an SU grad myself, and I've been working at the university for a long time. I am surprised that hasn't been done before. Your trademark should be safe, I don't think it's an infringement on the university. Let me give you the contacts of all the distributors we use for the campus bookstore.
"There are the big guys like Nike, but we use some local partners," he said. "Contact Dave at Shirtworld, John at Holyshirt, and the owner of Charney's. If any of them are interested in printing Syracutie, they can help you get into the bookstore."
"Be careful," Dan warned. "Some of the vendors are dog-eat-dog, so make sure they know you own the mark. But I think it's a great idea," he continued. "Maybe someday I'll say, 'I remember Alyson,' when you have a line of t-shirts on multiple campuses and make a lot of money."
After a very supportive hour-long call, I was oozing with excitement. Now that I had the school's blessing, Syracutie would undoubtedly work.
The phone call was too good to be true. It was July when I next heard from Dan, and that conversation left me in an entirely different emotional state.
There was only one day to go before Syracutie was legally mine and that's when my cell rang. Noting the 315 number on my phone, I slipped away from my cubicle to take the call.
"Hey Alyson, I have a bit of bad news," Dan said. "We're being advised by our lawyers to oppose your trademark application. They think it's too close to the university's name."
I stood in the hallway, shell-shocked. "But I don't understand, last time we spoke you were so supportive. You even told me that you didn't think Syracutie was an infringement..."
"I know, but I'm afraid our lawyers think otherwise. Normally we wouldn't even call the person to give them a heads up about an opposition, but since you and I talked before, I wanted to give you the courtesy."
"If I'm being granted this trademark though," I protested, "then USPTO doesn't 'think Syracutie is an infringement. And Syracutie doesn't need to have any campus relevance, although I'd like to sell it to students. It's really based on the name of a town, which preceded the university."
Ignoring my reasoning, Dan marched on. "Our lawyers are recommending that you assign the trademark to us."
"Would I be compensated?"
"No, I don't believe you would be."
A multitude of emotion washed over me, from confusion, to hurt, to rage. "I just don't understand why you have to do this, and why I should be expected to cough up my idea for free. I was really excited to work with you and bring my brand to SU. I though I had your support..."
"Again, I'm sorry, Alyson. We're just trying to protect the school. Unfortunately, you'll need to let us know your decision by tomorrow, otherwise we'll have to file the opposition."
The conversation ended, and I was left clutching my phone to my chest, completely crushed.
Read the article at: Business Insider.
