CONTINUING MY JOURNEY

This journey has been anything but linear for me.

IT STARTED WITH A MATH TEACHER WHO WOULDN'T GIVE UP

Let me take you back to 2013 — I was 11 years old, 7th grade. My math teacher, Ms. Moore, kept asking me if I was interested in joining the Mathletes. My answer was a quick and resolute no — for two reasons. First, I hated math. Second, I was already juggling the debate team and other commitments.

Ms. Moore was disappointed but didn't give up. Every day, she pushed me to reconsider. Then one day, instead of her usual request, she asked if I'd checked my school email. I didn't even know I had one at that point.

She encouraged me to check it, hinting at something exciting. Intrigued, I logged in.

I was immediately put off by the idea of spending my 11-year-old summer away from home doing math. But Ms. Moore urged me to at least consider it. I went to the info session. And then I signed up.

THE SUMMER THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING

The BEAM summer program turned out to be unforgettable. I made great friends, played nerdy games like Dominion and Set, and took college-level math courses on programming, code-cracking, and formal systems. I also got to go hiking, visit a water park, and explore Six Flags — all while staying on Bard College's campus.

The program introduced me to the kind of fun I never thought I'd have with math. Which eventually led me into the world of computer science. Even after the program ended, BEAM stayed in touch — Saturday classes, continued support through high school and college.

But as life often goes, I drifted. Personal challenges pulled me away from math and science. That connection I'd built went quiet.

THE DETOUR

Fast forward to college. I was majoring in Digital Journalism and Communication Arts with a minor in Speech. Despite my love for writing, something felt off. I wasn't satisfied. I wasn't sure I could continue — most of my classes felt disconnected from what I truly cared about.

Then, going through my emails, I found one from BEAM's college team — internship opportunities in math and computer science. Hesitant but intrigued, I reached out, explaining I was considering leaving college and wanted to explore something different.

They pointed me toward the one opportunity that fit: the Marcy Lab School — a fully funded tech fellowship that would teach me the fundamentals of software engineering and help me land a job in tech.

MARCY, AND THE REJECTION THAT HURT

I applied to Marcy. That summer became a turning point. My boyfriend helped me build my first PC. I wrote my first lines of Ruby and JavaScript. I spent months learning how to think like a software engineer.

But when graduation came, the job market wasn't ideal. Interviews were hard to land. Then I finally got one — with one of my dream companies. And I choked. I wasn't selected.

That rejection hurt deeply. It reignited the imposter syndrome I'd battled for years — especially as a young Black woman in a predominantly white, male industry.

I decided to take a break from coding. A huge mistake. Without the structure of daily practice, I lost my momentum. The job-seekers program that followed was discouraging — entry-level roles requiring 5+ years of experience, an overwhelming search, and the pressure of needing income.

COMING FULL CIRCLE

I reached back out to BEAM. They connected me to a TA position for two courses — including one on Excel with Python. And something clicked: I, a BEAM student, was now in a position to pay it forward.

Around the same time, I'd learned about the Feynman Technique — the idea that you truly understand something when you can teach it to someone who knows nothing about it. TA'ing was that in practice. I was improving my own skills by helping others. I started to love it.

Then came the opportunity that changed everything again: a new teaching pathway initiative. Schools in the city were looking for computer science teachers. I applied to three schools. Only one felt right. After a positive interview process — I got the job.

WHERE I AM NOW