The Handshake
The social contract, written down.
Most working relationships run on rules nobody says out loud, and the people who don't guess those rules right pay for it. Not here. Here is the whole deal, both directions, in writing.
I'm a mixed-race, neurodivergent, globally traveled, globally employed, globally lived Midwestern boy who thrived in rooms that weren't built for him, and I keep the door open for the people the usual rooms overlook. I still know the value of a handshake and the fear of my mother finding out. That's the whole operating system, honestly.
The Handshake, spoken (coming)
Who I most want to serve
I serve parts of the imperfect whole. The technical founder who builds beautifully and dreads the salesmanship. The connector who gives, listens, is charismatic for everyone, and never asks for themselves. The well-adjusted operator who sees clearly and moves slowly. The people the usual rooms overlook, and the people the usual rooms love who are still stuck.
I desire to serve anyone who needs my help and will make it worth both our whiles, and worth is not only cash. Fit-to-outcome, not fit-to-want. I might be a start. I might be a fix. I might be a choice-among-many. Nobody gets excluded on the way in. That's what my discernment is for, and that's what the $0 line on your first invoice is for.
If you are a builder or an owner the usual rooms overlook (any race, creed, gender, or ability, told the ceiling was yours to accept), or you're neurodivergent and thrived anyway (or haven't gotten the chance to yet), or you're counter-culture-for-good (a true charity, an honest B-Corp, a product that exists to fix something real)... then I can probably work with you.
Mistakes, lenses, morals, and ethics. I draw lines, and I know the difference.
Your bill of rights
What you get from me.
The truth, kindly.
A price and a finish. Nothing rolls over, nobody stays out of momentum.
My full attention on the result. If I were here for a check, this would look very different.
Told promptly if I’m not the right help. "If it’s not something I do, I’ll tell you that too."
The torch passed the moment someone else would serve you better.
Every first call runs on three questions: what are you looking for, what do you need, what can we do. You leave with all three answered.
My bill of rights
What I get from you.
You work with me, for the result. Not next to me, not through me. With me.
You take it as seriously as I do, even when we're having fun. I'm not hard to get along with and I'm nearly impossible to anger. I just take this seriously, and I'll expect the same from you.
You want the doing AND the being. Do better, be better. If you want to do better without being better, I'm not your guy.
2026 is the year of AI: Accountable Individuals. I can't expect that without wanting it, and I can't want it without doing it.
Any problem you're willing to observe is a problem you're willing to have.