Techno & Eggs: A Half-baked 441 Word Introduction
I’m not a writer. I feel like I have to mention this since Medium is made up of writers and bloggers who have excellent stories to tell.
I’m just here to tell my story with my own words. Not necessarily looking for validation, just looking for an outlet. Looking for a place to just let go and let it all out.
Here is my backstory:
As for what I do, I own and operate several SaaS websites including a URL shortener, SEO site auditor, a task manager (that I am reconstructing and building to be something new), and a youtube video aggregator that has been adopted by those who are interested in learning more about web development and technology in general. In addition to my websites, I own two companies that focus on web design, web development, information technology, and information security consulting. Currently, I have a co-founder and several employees/contractors/interns. Quitting my job to do this fulltime was a challenge that I embraced and continue to embrace. Every day that I wake up I am excited to seize the day.
In a nutshell: I am an tech entrepreneur, I am a woman, and I am black.
And I am here to tell my story. Not the fancy Forbes version but the “Tim-Ferriss-won’t-answer-my-emails-about-why-he-hasn’t-included-any-black entrepreneurs-in-his-podcast” story. If you’re easily offended by black people talking about race and what is wrong with being black in America, then my posts aren’t for you.
To add to that, I was raised in an African household. My parents always taught us to be good. To be great. To be the best. They never told us that America would push back against us every step of the way. They never talked about the broken system. They afforded us an education that many parents couldn’t. They helped us understand ethic and hard work. My dad was always in IT and had white friends. One of whom he had a joint graduation party with. In our home, we had no shortage of diverse friends. One of my best friends in school was from Yemen, my mom loved her. So no, my parents didn’t teach us about the bad “white” America. They taught us quite the opposite.
I learned about our broken country that we live in on my own. I’ll anonymously share my experience. Maybe it will resonate with someone out there. Maybe it won’t. But what it will do, is help people understand, through yet another black account, that we have to do better — collectively.