August 13th, 2021
Hi! It me #ChayBlay! Welcome to my Shitshow! Translation: I’m the shit and this is my show! (but in written form)
Yesterday I completed a Milestone by publishing my first two Substack editorials. Quite a feat for me considering I have hidden one of the greatest assets and talents I have out of fear, rejection and invalidation.
My energy is too precious to be wasted on fear of rejection from people I know, do not know and have never met. So I write.
In the wise words of Queen Lizzo, "I do it for the culture."
And in the words and artistry of TT The Artist, “I got real bitch problems.”
My online short form bio is short, sweet, cheeky and succinct.
“I’m an Indigenous Yup’ik & Black Queen, Creative Visionary, Athletic Nomadic spirit, Non-Profit CEO, Food Bon Vivant + Lover of Champagne & Writing, Champion of Culture and Rebelling Against Boundaries. “
IRL, I’m a Social Entrepreneur, Cycle Instructor, Public Speaker and Mentor.
I’m also a Millennial College Dropout.
When I was 15 years old I had my first therapy session in a medium sized “office” with Christian psychologist Dr. Maureen Christensen. Her office was sleek, beautiful and serene. A healing space with luscious green plants, natural light, soft plush chairs that enveloped you with a hug, a creme colored sofa all tastefully put together by the most petite woman I had ever met at the time besides my mother. She adorned her stylish petite frame with a Burgundy cashmere sweater, Burgundy lipstick, dark chocolate silky slacks, Burgundy shoes, bright blue eyes with square shaped spectacles on the bridge of her nose and a mop of short, bouncy and effortless brunette tresses that reminded me of Princess Diana. Her coffee table was adorned with white flowers, a few books and a box tissues displayed in their own vignette. Her beautifully designed space reminded me of Vogue magazine and transported me from Alaska to New York City.
In Dr. Christensen’s sleek modern intimate boutique she diagnosed me with mild depression and anxiety. I didn’t need medication though. Instead, she informed me to keep writing.
Why?
I was afraid to use my voice. I was afraid to share what hurt and tormented me. I was afraid to share my truth. I didn’t know her. She was a stranger and in my teenage world, a threat, an authority figure I couldn’t trust. I was loyal to my high school class counselor Ms. Janine Sparks and Ms. Sparks only. Maureen nodded accepting this and proceeded to ask me what I shared with Ms. Sparks when I sat in her office. With trembling hands I approached Dr. Christensen with my journal. Her long Burgundy polished hands opened to page one.
In it, my innocence. What I couldn’t articulate to her with my voice. Written my real life shame, inadequacies, abuse, anguish and embarrassment; my poetry and short stories depicting strong but suffering heroines romanticized with suicide and self harm; my PTSD from organized religion, Christianity and their practice of inhibiting creativity because creativity breeds free thought and free thought births personal agency, which is personal freedom. Scribbled on lined pages with intentional penmanship were my dreams, passions and hobbies immediately followed by colleges and alternatives plans of action to pursue the life I wanted to create for myself.
You know that Milestone post I shared? Those Milestones each have their own terrain and unique trail system ranged from easy to difficult. The cliff points are always the scariest because it tests personal bravery and vulnerability. The cliff points are fueled by fear, but when I took ownership of the cliff points, the difference between jumping off the cliff or plowing forward on solid ground didn’t matter. They both lead to destinations unknown and worthy of discovering.
Sarah Lawrence University // Creative Writing
Columbia University // Creative Writing
Fashion Institute of Technology // Fashion Design & Merchandising
Coos Bay University // Junior College Soccer
Howard University // Historically Black University
University of Hawaii // Marketing
University of Alaska // Journalism & Public Communications
I enrolled as freshman at the University of Alaska Anchorage and declared Journalism & Public Communications as my major. I was fueled by my passion of creativity and artistry through image and creative writing. Journalism Professor Joy Mapaye earned the award as my favorite professor, teacher, mentor, and favorite KTUU NBC News Reporter.
Her class was where I volunteered as team leader on a group project of choice with 4-5 classmates. I chose a Magazine Launch, appointed myself Editor In Chief, delegated group titles and roles based on each individuals personal interest which gave them the authority and lived-in experience to write what brought them joy and flex their creative freedom. As a team we worked together to build a magazine from scratch using InDesign AND throw an epic holiday Magazine Launch Party based on experiential marketing mimicking what I absorbed in Teen People, Vogue and Lucky Magazine. We had a red carpet, VIP Guest List were our classmates, Costco platters of food, drinks, music, hard copies of our magazine and I made damn sure our assignment projected on the classroom big screen. Chile, when I tell you I was ahead of my time for a young woman in Alaska, I mean it! I was by no means a professional event planner during this time (lol), but the ambition I had to execute was bar none. I always aim high.
What happened though?
One. That same semester I had my first college job in retail. I was a cashier at the campus Bookstore. My duties included opening and closing the till, scanning, merchandising, inventory, greeting customers, answering questions, taking orders over the phone, interacting with students and faculty, etc. My Manager, a stern portly and no-nonsense Black woman named Ms. Donna.
Ms. Donna did not deal with college buffoonery.
She was the first Black retail business Manager I ever had. I soaked in everything she taught me, bathed in her words and never once stopped learning or lost intrigue. This was the fashion job without the glitz and glamour.
Instead I was surrounded by starchy cotton Go Seawolves t-shirts and sweaters, textbooks, UAA embellished knickknacks and gifts, school supplies, etc. And Ms. Donna was my Kelly Cutrone.Two. My second college job I was employed as an Executive Assistant at a small Angel Investing company. I had no idea what a Angel Investor was and had never heard of Venture Capital. What drew me to their ad besides the typical administrative tasks was the enticing $12/hr, 3 days a week, perfect for college student, chance to work at a young startup (wtf, was that), my own desk with brand new Mac and additional technology for use. It was a deep dive in business and BIG business. I went from a no-nonsense manager to being supervised by two young relaxed white male Start-Up founders in their baby faced early thirties.
It was the first time I was given autonomy over my work.
When I was hired they were in the beginning stages of planning an Angel Investing and Venture Capital Summit to be held that spring. They gave me a budget, instructed me to find a venue, handle catering; book travel, lodging, rental cars and leisure activities for Silicone Valley CEO guest speakers, handle local press releases and assist with creation of Summit Handbook. I loved this job and will never forget the full day I spent taste testing cuisine from three different restaurant and catering companies for the summit. To this day I can still vividly taste the deliciously luxurious mini Beef Wellington’s our chef created. Our visiting Silicone Valley CEO’s loved the menu. And for dessert? I booked them a helicopter sightseeing tour of Denali National Park and surrounding glaciers. An epic Au Revoir!
Three. I hate slacks and pantyhose. Journalism started to feel like slacks and pantyhose. I had an existential crisis brought on by an internship where “work clothes” were required. I visited a news station and saw Journalists wearing slacks and pantyhose. Personal expression gravely fatigued. My anxiety knew I didn’t want that and I could feel it. So I partied, my grades suffered the last semester of school, with my interests moving towards creative freedom and working.
I wanted to work and experience the world. I wanted to immerse myself in the business side of passions I enjoyed and learn everything IRL.
So I left school to work in fashion and learn big business at Nordstrom as a Senior Sales Associate. Which btw, I applied and interviewed for twice. I did not let the first denial stop me. I knew I was worthy.
Equals. I fell in love with business and entered the world of Millennial College Dropout.
IMPOSTER SYNDROME // What is it?
Imposter Syndrome can be defined as a collection of feelings of inadequacy that persist despite evident success. ‘Imposters’ suffer from chronic self-doubt and a sense of intellectual fraudulence that override any feelings of success or external proof of their competence. — Harvard Business Review, May 7, 2008
Post-It Notes vs Imposter Syndrome // Vital Voices Global Partnership Leadership Incubator
It has been over a decade since I was enrolled in university.
My school of choice was Sarah Lawrence. The second, the Fashion Institute of Technology. I’d like to believe had I attended those schools I would’ve suffered the same fate. When something doesn’t feel right, it doesn’t feel right.
My transcript is evidence fifteen years ago I wasn’t ready for school.
My transcript from the University of Alaska does not represent who I am as a student, who I am today, my colorful and educational life experience and my most importantly my worth.
A Millennial Milestone in my life was being chosen as one of thirty Vital Voices Leadership Incubator Fellows for their inaugural program.
Vital Voices invests in Social Impact Entrepreneurs who are creating paradigm shifts and cataclysmic change for women and girls initiatives locally and globally.
During our in-person at Jonathan Simkhai Studios in New York City, Vital Voices Alum and Mentor Gemma Bulos led a transformative workshop on overcoming Imposter Syndrome.
Our Imposter Syndrome exercise was heavy, thick and uncomfortably silencing.
My fellowship sisters and I each had to write 4-5 personal imposter syndrome statements that enter our minds on the daily and jot down on multi colored Post-It Notes. She then instructed us to paste the notes around the bright but naturally lit studio where every fellow, mentor and team member and participating partner from TRESemme and Vital Voices could view and read them.The aura and atmosphere became eerily quiet, sticky invisible fog cased the walls which caused them to cave in. It was surreal to be in a room with the next generation of female leadership, governance and economic power collectively feeling inadequate, unworthy and not qualified to perform our job.
Many Post-It Notes mirrored others identically.
My personal imposter statements:
I am not enough
No one cares about me
No one wants me here
I left college early. Am I educated?
After a series of exercises led by Vital Voices mentor Gemma Bulos my fellowship sisters and I were able to determine the source and root of each imposter statement and their existence.
Mine were left over wounds I carried from my childhood and teenage adolescence. Wounds that did not honor or give merit to my incredible strength, drive, work ethic and unorthodox journey. Wounds that did not give reverence to the work I created and my accomplishments despite the barriers faced in front of me.
I was allowing my inner critic to dictate my narrative and show.
I was giving my inner critic breathing life and energy to manipulate my authentic story.
My inner critic became the star of my Shitshow!
I went from lead Principal of my life to background actor.
We performed one more exercise. Birth a brand new statement. A new statement to live by when Imposter Syndrome enters our hearts and minds.
Because I’m THE Shit and this is my show, I had to take back my narrative!
Chay Blay’s Statement
I am enough. I know how to fail and pick myself back up. I know my worth isn’t determined by anyone but me. I know caring and loving myself is key. I know the spaces I reside, I am loved, desired and missed. I know I am educated because I am a student of life. I continue to grow by reading, researching, dissecting information and writing essays on topics that inspire and bring myself joy.
I am CHAY FUCKEN BLAY
It is through my transparency and pursuit of knowledge all Black and Indigenous girls and women are inspired to pursue higher education, live their passions no matter the journey, and own up to mistakes past and present. Forgive yourself and give yourself permission to take up space in this world and not be afraid the cliff points. Give yourself grace.
I believe in fundamentals. I’m an athlete. They set the foundation for learning, failing, winning, losing, setting up your offense and defense, so you have a strategy to win the championship and build a franchise team or franchise program. This is what keeps sustainability and longevity alive and how I have viewed all my pursuits after leaving school.
I am a student of life who is curious, goal oriented and approaches business challenges with Olympic gold medal pursuit. I’m constantly training.
In my absence from school I was mentored and educated by business women I admire. I was employed by my female mentors and blessed to have had the opportunity to enter into partnership as small business co-founder. These women believed in me, invested in my vision and my work ethic to pursue the goals I wanted in life professionally. Especially as a young Black Indigenous woman.
I’m an educated, multicultural woman and student of life, with a sharp business acumen. I have amassed lived-in experience in creating structured programming, strategic vendor relationships and partnerships, niche and target marketing, creative sales and fundraising channels for growth and development through hospitality and storytelling. I’ve learned I thrive in opportunities for leadership, creativity and development with a team for the greater good of humankind. I own up to my mistakes and grow from my mistakes.
I’m a non-traditional student who has changed the status quo on what a non-traditional student is.
I’m no Issa Rae or Beyonce. But I am Charity Blanchett and she’s great. I co-founded two for-profit companies, founded and created a non-profit enterprise all online, built and led revenue + talent at a boutique Cycle Studio, published author (it was 3rd grade but it counts), low key event planner and even lower key DJ.
(Did I mention I’m still a cycle instructor? DJ skills necessary)
You don’t accomplish all of that that by sitting on your ass all day.
I am damn proud.