My unfiltered truth as a Black woman creative entrepreneur. The pitching, the pressure, the quiet exclusions — and why I keep showing up anyway.
There are moments I catch myself staring at the hero image on my agency website — a bold, unfiltered visual that represents everything I’m building See Girl Work to be. And I wonder if it’s the reason some inquiries never come in.
It’s not just a design choice. It’s a statement. One that says, “This agency is Black woman–led. This space centres equity. This story isn’t neutral.”
And the truth? That image likely turns some people away.
Maybe they’re not ready for what that image represents. Maybe diversity isn’t really a priority — at least not when it comes time to sign contracts and write cheques.
Maybe they scroll past because they’re looking for something more “neutral,” more “comfortable,” more… familiar.
Even in Canada. Even in Toronto. Even in the nonprofit space that loves to sprinkle “equity” across its mission statements.
Being a Black woman creative entrepreneur means living with this constant duality: building something deeply values-led, while knowing those very values can quietly disqualify you from opportunities before you’ve even spoken a word.
In sales emails, I’m reading between the lines.
In scope review meetings, I’m navigating how much of myself to show.
In project selection, I’m balancing survival with staying true.
It’s not always about skill. Or quality. Or results. It’s about comfort. And whiteness still sits at the centre of what many people consider “professional,” “safe,” or “fundable.”
The hero image on my website wasn’t a casual decision. I chose it because it made me feel seen. Because it reflected the kind of unapologetic energy I wanted to bring into the room.
But with every month that passes, I wonder how many people quietly close the tab because it’s ‘too much.’ Because it doesn’t fit their idea of safe, neutral, professional. And still — I leave it there.
I leave it there so our people can find us. So that when they land on the page, they know they’re in the right place.
Yes, it turns some people away. But the ones it draws in? They’re not just looking for design. They’re looking for alignment. They’re looking for someone who understands not just how to make something look good — but how to make it mean something.
When an email lands in my inbox that starts with, “We are a nonprofit organization focused on women’s social and economic position in Canada. Our current project looks at anti-feminist movements…” — I know the work we’ve done to stay visible as we are is working.
That prospective client isn’t just hoping for pretty graphics. They’re looking for a creative partner who’s approach and values align with theirs. Someone who doesn’t need a crash course in feminism, equity, or how to communicate to people on the margins.
That’s who we are. That’s who we’ve always been.
I know I could change the imagery. Tone things down. Make See Girl Work look like your average creative agency — vague enough to appeal to everyone.
But I’d be lying. Because when a client actually meets me? I’m not neutral. I’m not an “agency bro”.
I’m a Black woman who’s been in this industry for 20 years. I bring context, culture, lived experience — and that shows up in every piece of work we deliver.
So I’ve made peace with the fact that the volume of inquiries may be lower. That I’m not everyone’s first choice.
But when the right people find us — like our clients American Association of University Women (AAUW), The African and Caribbean Council on HIV/AIDS in Ontario (ACCHO), AMREF Health Africa in Canada — the alignment is instant.
We don’t have to shrink, contort, or code-switch. We can just get to work.
And that’s what I want. That’s who I want to serve.
It may not be the fastest route to “scaling,” but it’s the most honest one.
If you’re a founder navigating similar waters — trying to stay visible without diluting yourself — know that you’re not alone. There are many of us building something real, even if it means being passed over for shiny, empty promises.
I’d rather be chosen for exactly who we are than for how well we pretend.
And that’s the reality — hard, beautiful, and still unfolding — of being a Black woman creative entrepreneur in this industry.
