fincon

In October I went to FinCon, a financial convention for money nerds. In other words, people interested in money who want to network with other people interested in money. We talk about money, attend workshops about money and learn new ways to help our clients and communities.

I went to FinCon with three goals: learn best practices, network and go to the Martin Luther King Center. I mean, I wasn’t going all the way to Atlanta and NOT visit a center, park or museum dedicated to civil rights. But what I didn’t know was that a fourth goal evolved during my time in Atlanta.

Historically, marginalized groups have not had access to financial education or access to financial products. We’re talking women, Black people, Latinos, indigenous people, people who live in rural areas, disabled people and queer folks. Money has always belonged to cisgender white guys. And I don’t just mean cash; I’m talking inheritance laws and bank accounts and property. It wasn’t until 1974 with the passing of the Equal Credit Opportunity Act that it became illegal to discriminate on the basis of marriage, race and sex. I was 4.

When I first decided to go to FinCon, I thought, “I’m a money coach. I love to talk about money. This is for me.”

But when I got there, it became so much more than that. It became a way to take up physical space in an environment that doesn’t make space for people like me and the people I serve. It’s not Wall Street, but it’s still a financial convention.

And this became more important and relevant after the first night.

Deborah is wearing a red jumpsuit with white sneakers and is wearing a lanyard. She's standing in front of a panel that reads FINCON: The Business Event for Money Creators

Fawning as Protection

I was sitting with two vendors when a (Latino) man stopped by to say hello. He introduced himself and reading my name tag, asked me what I did. “I’m a money coach,” I said. I asked what he did and he said he mentored entrepreneurs. I decided to ask for advice.

He started with, “I’m an asshole and I tell it like it is.”

“Fine.” Because that’s what I came here to do, right? Get advice and learn.

Big mistake. Huge.

The first thing out of his mouth was, “your content is shit.” He scrolled through my feed and said I needed to show my face more (legit) and that I shouldn’t be concerned about the number of followers (I’m not).

He went on to tell me that he’d served nine years in prison for a white collar crime. I told him I didn’t care (this was before I learned that he’d stolen $34 million from poor people who wanted to buy homes. The thing that hurt the most and made me question myself was when he asked how much I’d made from money coaching this year. On hearing the answer, he said that I couldn’t call myself a money coach.

Ouch. Not gonna lie. That hurt. A lot. My whole existence at this convention was on the basis of being a money coach. Suddenly, I didn’t belong. And I didn’t know why I allowed him to talk to me.

Fawning is a way of protecting ourselves from emotional harm. Pete Walker, a licensed psychotherapist in Berkeley, California, coined the term. According to Walker, “Fawn types seek safety by merging with the wishes, needs, and demands of others. They act as if they unconsciously believe that the price of admission to any relationship is the forfeiture of all their needs, rights, preferences, and boundaries.”

There’s a great article on PsychCentral on fawning and its roots in trauma. Which totally explains why I mostly agreed with this guy and even laughed at some of the things he said. But it also explains why so many of us downplay our accomplishments, agree when we should disagree and defer to patriarchal standards of place and belonging. It’s a protection mechanism.

It wasn’t until I got back to my hotel that his words began to sink in. A voice in my head whispered, “You’re not a money coach. You’re an impostor. You don’t belong.” And I decided that I wasn’t going to go back the next day.

We Belong Here

I couldn’t sleep that night thinking and thinking. When I finally did sleep, it was fitful, this guy’s words going round and round in my head. The next morning, I decided I’d go back but I took my time getting ready. As I got dressed and put on my makeup, I became indignant. Who was this pendejo, who stole millions of dollars, to tell ME that I don’t belong? Maybe I wasn’t bringing in thousands with my money coaching, but I was still providing a service by educating my community. I was a voice for my people.

During a break, I ran into a friend, a fellow money coach, after my first session of the day. I was still feeling sorry for myself but trying hard to remind myself why I was there. Orlenda could tell something was wrong and asked me to tell all. So I did. I even showed her the notes I’d taken from the night before. She ordered me to delete everything.

“You belong here. You are meant to be here,” she said. “If we hadn’t come, then who would be here for our people?”

And then she dragged me over to the photo backdrop so we could get our pics taken and show off that we were present. The rest of the day we went to a couple more workshops together and I started to feel better. The more I talked to other coaches, the more I realized how important it was for me to be present.

We’re Meant to Show Up

As for the rest of FinCon, I was excited to meet reps from the AFCPE (Association for Financial Counseling & Professional Education) since I’m working toward my credential to be an Accredited Financial Counselor. I attended a bunch of educational sessions, meetups and meet a lot of people who were eager to meet and talk about our work.

One of the best Meetups was the Social and Financial Justice Meetup. We talked about the intersectionality of our communities—queer, Black, brown, disabled, people with language barriers—and how important it is to create relevant content. In finances, one size doesn’t fit all. Everyone has different circumstances that require content to be delivered in different ways. Here’s a picture of our group!

Social Justice Meetup (I’m sitting in the front row, second from right).

Looking forward to FinCon in Portland next year. It’s a much shorter trip for me, since I live in Seattle. Instead of flying five hours across the country, I get to drive three and a half hours south to Portland! Portland has always been special to me because it was my first home in the United States. I still have family there (my dad’s side) and I’ll feel like I’m on firmer ground!

I’m determined to talk to everyone about my story. Exposing my vulnerability will help someone. It’s helped a lot of people and at this point, nothing is going to stop me. Much less some middle-aged menopausal man child. You can read about me and learn about my sliding scale coaching program, which is meant to be accessible to everyone. Because just like I belong at FinCon, you deserve access to coaching so you can reach your financial goals.