Today, I attended a breakfast meeting hosted by the Black Chamber of Commerce. I am an independent author and I own an Etsy store that I don’t talk about on this blog. The volunteer coordinator that I work with suggested I attend this meeting after I told her about my online store. Sooooo…I went to their monthly breakfast meeting this morning.
It wasn’t very comfortable for me. Lone, Black independent author and textile artist sitting in room full of people belonging to “legitimate” businesses and organizations. When I introduced myself, there wasn’t a sense that very many of them cared about what I do. And I printed business cards and everything *sad face* I’m not some big name. I have literally no connections. I can’t get them funding for their organization’s interests and I cannot fund them. Those business people didn’t give a damn who I was. That’s how I felt.
And do they really think I can afford to join? $85, $150 a year and up. Girl, please. The struggle is real. I would have to be sure an investment like that is worth it.
I don’t think of myself as a business owner. What’s more, business feels like a dirty word to me. A cold, dirty, cutthroat capitalist word. As a child who was on medicaid, Section 8, and attending public schools, I grew up at the mercy and whims of such faceless entities such as non-profits, government, and businesses with all their talk of money, budgets, and “funding”. Now that I’m an adult that hasn’t changed. These system people are still failing me after an entire childhood of watching them value, revalue, and devalue my life.
Everyone at the breakfast was a little curt, to the point, and looking for useful names to add to their digital Rolodex. Pretty sure I wasn’t one of those names. On the one hand, its a use and be used system. I’m not sure if I want to fit directly into something like that.
I want to say something empowering or helpful to anyone reading this. Smh. Too tired.