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Instead, they extracted. They asked for everything—my personal information, my business details, my designs, my plans. They took notes. They nodded. They asked just enough questions to appear engaged. And then, when there was nothing left to give, they sent me on my way.

It was a lonely journey—one I didn’t yet have language for. I knew nothing about manufacturing. Nothing at all. Zip. Zero. Zilch. But even with all that not knowing, I couldn’t turn away. The idea had taken up residence in my mind, settling in like heat with nowhere to go. It simmered. It steamed. It refused to release me. I couldn’t see how it would end—only that it had chosen me. As a child, I was always reimagining the world around me. Tools, systems, everyday objects—I in

Katherine Johnson The Press ‘N Curl Queen of Cleveland  From Humble Beginnings to a Lasting Legacy: The Inspiring Story of the Kinktamer...