From Code to Concrete: Why I Invest in Housing
People always assume I started in tech.
But honestly? That came later.
After undergrad, I wasn’t thinking about tech startups or venture capital. I was thinking about how to make life better for the communities I come from. I founded my first not-for-profit to improve educational outcomes for kids that looked like, acted like, sounded like me — because I knew access to opportunity starts with what we learn, how we’re supported, and where we show up every day.
Not long after that—just before heading to grad school—I bought my first property in the DMV. At the time, it wasn’t some flashy real estate play. It was quiet. Intentional. A decision rooted in a desire for stability, on my own terms.
What began as a way to ground myself—to create home—planted something even deeper. That property was a seed, quietly rooted in care, that grew into shelter. Not just for me, but eventually, for other women and families of color as well. It became a place where stability, dignity, and belonging could take root—without conditions, judgments, or trade-offs.
For me, the transition from homeowner to landlord marked a shift from personal equity to collective responsibility. That seed I planted? It kept growing—into a deeper commitment to others.
Because wealth isn’t just about income. It’s about place. It’s about who has the power to stay, to belong, to build. It’s about whether you’re allowed to imagine a future—and actually grow roots there.
A safe place to live shouldn’t be a privilege. It should be the baseline. The beginning of everything else.
A roof. A lock. A lease you can afford. That’s where possibility takes root.
Tech came later. And I love the systems I get to build now—digital platforms, scalable products, equity-centered innovation. But the real foundation? That started with shelter. With the simple, radical act of creating home.
Because for me, home has always been the foundation. And from that soil—education, opportunity, ambition, and yes, equity—can finally grow.
