Ivy Nguyen
3 min readJan 25, 2016

Invest in socioeconomic diversity: an ode to the tightrope walking entrepreneur

Ricky Yean is absolutely right that socioeconomic diversity has been overlooked in conversations about the need to increase startup and VC inclusivity. I know the feeling well — my dad supported our family of four on $30,000 a year in the San Francisco Bay Area in the nineties and early 2000s.

For kids like me and Ricky, our childhood idea of success was to become an accountant, or a pharmacist, or, if you can afford it, a doctor, because doctors were often the most educated and successful person we’ve had the chance to encounter. The end goal was to make it into a tracked career path, because otherwise you’re living paycheck to paycheck, dispensable, the first to go when budget cuts roll around.

So CHOOSING to dive into the unknown as an entrepreneur? That’s unheard of when you don’t even know a single person who owns his own business, other than maybe your parent’s boss.

But as limiting as the mental and social handicaps that Ricky outlined might be, they are what forges the best of the best entrepreneurs I’ve ever encountered, once you overcome them. If you’re that founder, I want to invest in you.

No matter how deeply I’ve vetted your business plan and the market opportunity in my diligence, you’re ten steps ahead, because you needed to justify your choice to that nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you to go back home and make a steady, but moderate salary to start taking care of your family back at home.

You’re careful with every cent you raise, because you don’t know when — or if — the next check will be coming.

You think through every move and calculate every risk you take because you don’t have the luxury of knowing that if it all comes crashing down, you can come home and live in your parent’s basement or crash on your friend’s couch while you regroup and plot your next move (but props to you who do that and get up to fight another day).

You’re accustomed to doing everything yourself and not asking for help until you’re one breath away from drowning, because you know that those who love you are just barely staying float themselves, or wouldn’t know where to start if they had the time and energy. They certainly don’t have money or friends-of-friends who went to HBS and can help you map out your growth strategy.

You know how to work hard like your life depends on it. If you fail, there’s nothing down there to break your fall, and there’s no starting up again. Possibly ever.

You’re the ones doing a highwire balancing act,while everyone else is slacklining at Dolores Park. This is it. This is your only chance. And hell are you going to do all you can to keep it going until it pays off.

I’m in VC because I don’t like heights.

So here’s to you, the tightrope walkers who keep moving forward knowing that nothing will stop you from being swallowed by the gaping abyss underneath your feet. You’re the grittiest and toughest and hungriest of them all. And when the party stops and the fundraising gravy train comes crashing to a halt, you’ll be the ones best equipped to survive on the bare minimum until the money starts trickling out again. You know what to do. You’ve been through it all before.

If any of the above describes you, I want to hear your story. Even if we don’t invest, I’ll try to help you to the best of my ability. Email me at ivy@newgenvc.com