rainy day fund + founder visas
NEW APARTMENT, WHO THIS —
this weekend was devastating. a friendly reminder that if you’re feeling overwhelmed by social media or the news, taking a break from both will not ruin your productivity. if needed and you can, take a break from it today and delete apps. another solution, schedule in an unplugged walk.
as i scrambled toward the finish line last january, there was only one phrase i heard more than “what are you doing post grad?”
“post grad is going to be lonely.” i realized i wouldn’t be in a world of gatorade-fueled all nighters with my squad, and that i couldn’t rely on dance practice schedule to see my gal pal, and that friendship wasn’t a knock away, it was probably an uber. i’d have to make the time myself to see people i care about, and then actually show up.
revolutionary, right?
i, reliant on the comfort of a community to the point of weakness, read that phrase like a warning. for those of you who know me, or for those of you who just know what i do for a living, i reacted appropriately.
i’d scribble down my favorite moments as they happened: a spontaneous concert with berklee kids in cambridge, a night playing trivia with my brother, a suburban late night drive that reminded me home will always be home.
detail by detail, i grew my very own rainy day fund. i ended up packing these memory-filled notebooks in my carry on, just in case the loneliness started hitting right upon take off.
about six months out of school, however, the rainy day fund hasn’t been used the way i thought it would be.
more later, but first my words + reads.
my words: venture capitalists often offer services beyond capital these days, building themselves as more than atms but as ~~~ platforms ~~~. i realized, however, that amid all the flashy help, we don’t explicitly hear many talk about the support they provide to immigrant founders searching for a way to the stay in the country. i looked more into this gap, spoke to the vcs working on changing it, and even reached out to the vc that popularized the “be more than an atm” concept. i want to write more on this topic, so read my story, and feel free to e-mail me follow ups or tips at natasha@crunchbase.com.
etc: often times stories don’t turn out the way we initially think they will. for example, this story was inspired by the fact that unshackled VC covered 100% of the costs associated with an immigrant entrepreneur’s visa process. that’s awesome, but through further interviews i realized it’s not the biggest pain point in the conversation. instead, as one source told me, the [immigration] process doesn’t cost much more than a signing bonus at a tech company. that’s $20,000 to $25,000 to walk someone through the entire immigration process (often times less). that’s a bargain. so my story, instead of focusing on price tags, pivoted to become about access to resources. it makes me thankful for patient editors and sources that teach me constantly. you all make me look smarter.
learning lesson: that puns, if done correctly, can always have a place in a lede.
song of the week:
unorganized tab time:
the real story behind a funding round
‘hustle porn’ and why this founder thinks we should buy out of it
how to make smart friends, by Jason
oat milk, fake meat, and a new venture capital fund
anyways,
i soon learned that the loneliness i was warned about isn’t (just) about the lack of humans.
i’m lucky to be new but surrounded by good humans (just moved in with some!). instead, the loneliness is kind of within myself. life feels quieter now. for once, the only sounding board that has authority and weight in my day to day is so clearly just myself. my thoughts aren’t stretched in a million directions, my knees aren’t wobbling from running between practice and pregames and friends and friends of friends and internships. hell, i have a job, a half of a hobby, and cook sometimes.
i’m content. and that somehow means there’s a lot of wiggle room in my head.
so here’s my pitch: i think post grad isn’t exactly lonely, it’s quieter. scribbled pages don’t fix that much. instead, it seems i have to make my mind a comfortable place to hang out in. which is hard. and tips appreciated.
what does this edit mean for my rainy day fund? first, i wish i had spent some of those frantic nights writing inky pages focusing less on favorite memories with others, and more on favorite memories with myself. a tuesday at trident cafe. a choice to stay in and cook a meal. closing up the coffee shop alone. those, in my opinion, would help me remember how i can handle open mind space.
as for the pages that were actually written? they don’t fix anything. and i’m happy they don’t. i miss the heart beats of home, of course, but i don’t clutch onto the pages like i thought i would. i’m realizing long distance (between Boston and NJ, and now between west coast and east coast) has actually taught me how to feel far love. instead of feeling like a last ditch effort to stay afloat, the memories serve as a smile and a reminder of who i have on the sidelines cheering me on.
and all of a sudden, my rainy day fund feels less like a crutch and more like an espresso shot.
take care of yourselves,
N