Being a queer, Filipino-American is complicated. Growing up, I never saw myself in a lot of people who were represented in a number of spaces, whether they were everyday families on TV, celebrities in entertainment, and everyday folx who could start their own businesses to do what they loved. 
Yet for Filipino-American History Month, when asked, what Filipino-American entrepreneurs (much less LGBTQ+) are out there? I honestly panicked because I could not think of any off the top of my head immediately; and it revealed a deeper issue in that I could never relate to any founder or entrepreneur even though so many of my Titos and Titas (aunts and uncles in Tagalog) actually owned their own establishments and businesses. They owned restaurants and shops that I regularly went to. They owned laundromats and bodegas that they operated out of their own pockets and often put love and care into maintaining so that they could provide a tomorrow for their children. In every definition of the sense, I should have considered them entrepreneurs.

So, why was this? Why didn’t I?  

There came the rub. So many of the people that I saw represented as successful entrepreneurs were predominantly white men. They were often celebrated and famed for their accomplishments to the point that I only saw that specific group of people as successful founders. It’s easy to dismiss an occupation when you do not see someone who looks like you within it, which is the crux of a struggle that so many people from overlooked communities (including mine) have felt throughout generations within entrepreneurship.
Furthermore, my community was often seen as “less than” and stigmatized. I can literally name a laundry list of incidents that fueled Anti-Asian American sentiments, including traditional stereotyping about going into the medical field all the way to even being seen as someone who could not obtain certain jobs because others projected their own ideas of what roles were suitable for me. Coupled with being queer, I was never seen as someone who could become an innovator or disrupter, even though in every sense, my community is one for literally surviving and being able to create their own sources of wealth because they have been shut out of institutions and jobs on the basis of simply being different. Much less the impact that this had on my self-esteem, it made me condition myself to thinking about what was acceptable for me to get into.
Years later, through unpacking those sentiments and realizing that everyone has to start somewhere,  it has taken me a long time to fight against that sort of stigma and sense of doubt for my own community to become innovators; and in this day and age, there is now more potential for others like me, others who look like me, and others who think like me. In encouraging Filipino-Americans to become entrepreneurs and innovators, I have found it useful to list the potential ways that we can fight against that sense of imposter syndrome and lack of representation. 
I do not speak for all Filipino-Americans but I can speak for myself: 

1. Recognize that at the end of the day, there are going to be multiple people who feel the same way you do, in that they’re also wondering whether they deserve a space within the room and whether they’re cut out for this. Reframe how you think about this so that you do see yourself as someone capable and worthy of pursuing this pathway!
2. Continue forming relationships with individuals and communities who can actively sponsor you. This could be people from associations that support overlooked communities like the National Federation of Filipino American Associations, Black Girl Ventures, Out in Tech, Techqueria, and Ascend. Sponsors are willing to utilize some of their power and influence to create opportunities for you to drive your own goals. This could be connecting you with investors or influencers; others might even introduce you to selective programs that support your entrepreneurial aspirations!
3. Advocate for others among your own group and form solidarity with others from different communities. Filipino-American-owned and Asian American-owned small businesses in general, are being disrupted due to COVID-19 and xenophobia; and many Asian American-owned businesses encompass a large portion of industries decimated by COVID-19. Support could mean actively highlighting fellow colleagues in your space to increase the positive forms of representation of entrepreneurs on social media; becoming a mentor or sponsor to others to further their growth; sharing resources publicly for those looking to get a start; or if you’re in a program/organization, seeing what opportunities and behavioral barriers exist for underrepresented groups to thrive in that environment and how are they distributed.
4. Unsubscribe from believing in and holding onto one set of ideas about what an entrepreneur is, since these beliefs can be based on who is largely highlighted and seen, which (again) can be centered around whiteness. That’s pretty much the opposite of being a disrupter, no?
5. Continue doing the work to educate yourself and take those lessons to your everyday life. Learn about the small business owners within your community who may be overlooked. Learn how they got there and what history they hold. Learn what barriers that they face in getting financial support and funding, especially in the context of COVID-19; and most importantly, build relationships with them. 

My goal as a Filipino-American is to break down barriers within entrepreneurship and startups to allow for those within overlooked communities to become people whom they never thought imaginable through innovation. This still stands for Filipino American History Month, so let’s get to work.

Deep breath in. Mhmmmmm.
And out. Ahhhhhhh.
I anxiously waited for it to be exactly 8:30am to enter the Zoom room. It was the first official day of my VFA job; I didn’t want to be too early and appear overeager, but I also didn’t want to be late and appear unprofessional.
I started to fidget with my clothes and watch, checking the time every three seconds. Thankfully, my boss saved me by beginning the Zoom room on time.
“Welcome to Ed Farm,” she said, “we’ve got a lot to cover today.”
…
At the start of our final year of university, I don’t think any graduating college senior expected to start their job remotely. As the year went on and the coronavirus pandemic took over the news cycle, it became clear that there was likely no other option.
Thankfully, by the time that colleges closed campuses and businesses shut down, many of us had already accepted the offer to join the 2020 cohort of Venture For America. We could breathe easily knowing that we had an entire organization supporting our job search. Yet, being a part of the largest, most diverse class in VFA’s history, with a delayed start to our job search had its own unique challenges.
Unable to interview Company Partners in person or visit the cities I may end up living in, our summer of Match was held almost exclusively through glitchy Zoom interviews and awkward FaceTime calls. Although device failures or parents walking into interviews became funny banters between the Fellows, there was a lot of anxiety woven into the 2020 Match process. Are we going to find jobs we actually want? Should I consider my fellow Fellows as competition? What will it be like to move to a city I’ve never visited before?
And the big question: will I have to work remotely?
For many companies during Match, the answers were “I don’t know,” “Probably,” “Maybe.” City and state rules regarding COVID-19 changed weekly, or even daily as the numbers of positive cases rose and fell. Then wildfires and hurricanes and protests happened, adding more confusion to our work questions.
Summer continued, we attended a fantastic online Training Camp (shoutout to Barry, Julia, and of course, Jad), and more of the Fellows were offered jobs. Now the answer to the remote question was a resounding, “yes, we will be working remotely.” In my case, the company I joined planned to be remote until 2021.
So now the question shifted from “will I work remotely?” to “should I delay moving to my city?”. Different Fellows had different approaches to this question. Some moved as soon as they could. A few are digital nomads, moving around the country and working from coffee shops or co-working spaces while the opportunity to travel cheaply is available. Others plan to stay with their families until their companies are working in-person, saving on rent and other expenses in the meantime.
Upon receiving and accepting a job offer at Ed Farm, I initially planned to stay home until January 2021, when the company initially planned to return to the office. However, after some conversations with my family and the company, I moved up my planned move date to October (which will be another blog post itself). My first two months of full-time employment would be remote, and I needed to prepare for that.
…
To succeed in a startup environment, one has to be both nimble and stubborn. Flexible enough to tackle new challenges as they arise but stubborn enough to guard your time and energy against distractions. Remote working requires more of both of these qualities.
Preparing for remote work from home, I took over my family’s dining room table, setting up a sit-stand desk and an office chair and arranging the plants to be as aesthetically pleasing as possible. After many tense conversations with my family, we’ve reached agreements about television volume and taking phone calls in the living room. I’ve grown very attached to my noise-cancelling headphones.
Remote working is a continual learning process, especially as you’re simultaneously navigating a new job role. You’re trying to learn branding standards while also figuring out whether it’s okay to call in from bed (my vote: it’s fine – just hide the PillowPet). Or you’re preparing an end of month report for your CEO while also helping your mother tackle laundry.
There’s benefits to remote working; I can quickly step outside to play fetch with my dog in between meetings, and I can live in pajama pants without anyone noticing. But the drawbacks are there too; I can’t brainstorm with peers over a casual coffee break, and my days are filled with Zoom meetings (resulting in Zoom fatigue) rather than true collaborative work.
Despite never meeting my bosses or coworkers in person, settling into a flow has not been a particularly difficult challenge. My coworkers are simply a Slack message away. The challenge is not facilitating communication but setting digital boundaries for myself. Not checking emails or Slack after hours, setting a limit on screen time, and using the Pomodoro timer method for scheduling breaks during the day.
For most of my fellow VFA Fellows, remote working likely isn’t going away soon. COVID-19 closures will continue as case numbers fluctuate, and many companies have found that they are still as productive, despite working remotely, as before COVID. The VFA Class of 2020 may become the first VFA Class (and young adults in the workforce, generally) to build careers that are partially or fully remote.
How exciting is that, to build the culture of the remote workforce upon graduating from college?

Hey! I’m Maya Bostick, a recent graduate of Spelman College with a degree in psychology. I’m originally from Washington D.C. but I moved to Atlanta for college. I just moved to Detroit to start my role as the new Community Manager/Content Creator at Healthy Roots Dolls. 
When I received my offer I was elated. I was excited to get off of Match and join a company that was perfectly aligned with my personal and professional goals. I received my offer letter two weeks before Training Camp ended. I signed the letter the last week and moved to Detroit within those two weeks; my lease was up in Atlanta July 31 and I moved into my new place on August 14. Everything was moving so fast that I lost track of a schedule. 
Moving in a global pandemic had its pros and cons. It felt great to be on a road trip with no traffic because everyone is at home. But the con is that once I moved to my new city I really couldn’t enjoy it because everyone is at home. Being in a new place and not knowing anyone beyond my roommates or Fellows that I connected with via GroupMe felt weird. However, the bright side is that the money that I’m making is only spent on bills because there’s only so much to do during COVID. 
Now, switching to working full-time for the first time was hard. Nobody explains to you after you graduate college it will be this grey area where you do not know if you’re doing well in your job. Sometimes you still feel like an intern and that any little mistake you make will get you fired. It’s a lot not to feel overwhelmed. Plus, learning your job and creating a routine for yourself in the midst of being “new” has been difficult for me. I’ve always been a person who has a schedule, likes to plan things out, and understands the quality of my work. School conditions people to get validation for everything.
We are used to submitting an assignment then getting a grade that tells you how you did. But at work, there are so many different tasks, so much to learn, and then you feel the pressure as if you should have known all of this from the start. Being full-time for the first time is 100% an adjustment that does not happen overnight. But to combat  this, I’ve been telling myself that I have to be patient, growth is a process, and I wouldn’t have been hired if my boss did not believe that I could do the work. 
In all, I’m so blessed and happy to work at a company I love. I’m bummed that I cannot explore my new city or not even see the team I am working with in person. Nevertheless, I’m excited for the future and my growth in my role as I continue to learn what work and doesn’t. I’m not afraid of anything and I’ll keep taking things day-by-day.