SHOWING UP IN THE IN-BETWEEN: MY FIRST BLACK TECH WEEK.
Secondroot.dev / Field Notes – July 2025
I had just gotten dressed for Day 1 of Black Tech Week. My outfit was intentional, my face was done, and my energy was hopeful. But then I sat down to put on my shoes and caught my reflection in the mirror, and everything I had built up cracked in and instant.
I didn’t like what I saw. Not just physically – it went deeper. A haunting, familiar discomfort crept in like an old habit. That low, steady whisper: “You don’t deserve to be here.” It wasn’t loud, but it was convincing.
In that moment, I had two options:
Crank the hotel AC, order room service, and crawl back into safety.
Fight through the fog, pick up my bag, and walk out the fu*king door.
I had to remind myself why I came in the first place. Not for free coffee. Not to meet my dream tech guy. I came because I’m changing my life. I came because I needed proof! Proof that black women like me, mid-pivot, self-taught, and determined as hell, could show up in tech spaces and not shrink. That we could take up room even while still building ourselves.
I left the hotel. As I walked through the entrance of Procter & Gamble Hall, the energy was undeniable. Black excellence in every shade. Laughter and side conversations layered over technical talk. The kind of talk that might confuse you or inspire you, depending on how close you’re listening. People were literally doing the line dance to Tamia’s song Can’t Get Enough between sessions, right there in the hallway, just waiting for the next keynote.
It felt like walking into an episode of Insecure – literally and emotionally. A little chaotic, full of vibes, and just undeniably Black! But just insecure enough to make me want to disappear into the back row until the 1pm panel started.
But I didn’t leave. I walked into the mainstage hall quiet, but standing tall. No need to sparkle – I just needed to stay.
Stay in the room.
Stay in my body.
Stay in my purpose.
I was there to see Maya Smith, co-founder, CEO, and creative director of The Doux. Her talk was centered on AI, cultural relevance, and brand storytelling. But what I heard was a blueprint. Maya shared her journey of building The Doux with a self-taught mindset, tapping into her creativity, our culture, and her roots in early internet spaces. She talked about being part of the Myspace generation, when we’d tweak HTML and test layouts until our pages popped. She brought the same hands-on experimentation into how she now uses AI to create high-quality marketing visuals that reflect black identity, beauty, and our relationship with our hair.
Her videos were bold. Cinematic. Strategic. And every frame told a story.
What stayed with me wasn’t just her brand, it was her process. Self-taught. Resourceful. Unapologetically Black.
And while I have no interest in starting my own business, I walked away from that talk with respect and admiration. Maya was using tech tools on her terms to generate income, build community, and tell stories that matter. That’s impact.
Walking away from Maya’s panel lit a spark. Her energy, her ability to fuse creativity, culture, and tech stayed with me through the rest of the conference. From that point on, I entered each session with an open mind, ready to learn and be inspired, even if the path didn’t mirror mine exactly.
I joined the coffee networking sessions, exchanged pleasantries, swapped contact information, and soaked up all the positive energy that I could. The conference leaned heavily toward small business owners—specifically those looking to use AI to boost sales, automate operations, or elevate their marketing. There wasn’t a strong focus on people working within tech or breaking into fields like cybersecurity. And for a moment, I worried: Did I come to the wrong place?
But the truth is, I was still exactly where I needed to be.
Even if no one mentioned SOC analyst roles or blue team tools, I was grateful to simply be in the room. To observe, to absorb, to practice being visible – even in the in-between. Sometimes that’s the real work. Not waiting until you’re confident to show up but showing up until confidence starts to catch up.
Black Tech Week didn’t give me all the answers, but it reminded me that I’m not building in isolation. That women like me are out here learning, pivoting experimenting, and creating new lanes… on our own terms.
And that’s the kind of room ill keep showing up for.
