Bring Your Own Chair

BYOC (Bring Your Own Chair), Brooklyn Museum, November 1st, 2025

Earlier this month, Mr. Neumayer and I took a jaunt around the Brooklyn Museum. We stumbled upon an exhibition featuring furniture, and of course, chairs.

Chairs have become a staple in museums, highlighting the intersection of design and functionality, and I am no stranger to gawking at their beauty and wanting to take a rest. This exhibit has stayed with me in a way no Bauhaus or Eames story ever has.​

On the wall hung variations of folding chairs that spoke to Black American inventor, Nathaniel Alexander. He was one of the earliest creators of the folding chair, and his thoughtful design included a built-in book rest intended for use in churches. 

The beauty of this narrative is impossible to ignore. A Black American, so often denied a seat at the table, created one that allowed people to carry their own. If they will not give you a seat, bring your own.

As a young girl raised in unkind conditions, with immigrant parents and a family shaped by addiction and abuse, I often felt as though there was not a chair in this world with my name on it. The chip on my shoulder grew heavy. All I wanted was a place to rest.

When I was laid off in early October, it reinforced a familiar feeling. It seemed to confirm that my presence was not welcome at a table I had worked so hard to sit at, advocate for, and elevate. This is where the lesson comes full circle. It was never my journey to wait for someone else to offer me a seat. My path was to understand that every setting at the table had been mine all along.

​Do I love myself enough to allow myself a seat? Do I respect myself enough to set a table? Do I believe in my own abundance enough to feed myself? Where is the chair that I desire? Was it never mine, or has it always been with me, myself too blind to see?

Today is November 13th; 41 days since being laid off, and 21 days since forming jaimiestites.NYC’s LLC. Today, I am sitting in the peace that is a table and chair made specially for me, sustained by none other than myself and those surrounding me, waiting for me to sit. 

From Laid off to Lit Up

Hi, I’m Jaimie Stites — a 24-year-old digital marketing professional and painter living in New York City.

A month ago, I was laid off from my corporate job. It was the first time in over a decade that I wasn’t working, and the first time in my life that I filed for unemployment benefits. At first, I felt crushed. For two weeks, I grieved the loss of structure, purpose, and the identity I had built around my work.

But then, something unexpected happened: I got bored. Really bored.

Each morning, I’d wake up with the same restless feeling; I wanted to build something. I was still producing short-form content for my boyfriend, Hunter Neumayer, which kept my creative muscles warm, but it wasn’t enough. I missed making things.

One afternoon, while journaling on the couch, the idea for jaimiestites.nyc came to me.

As both a painter and a digital native, I’ve always lived in the space between art and analytics and this new venture is the natural fusion of both. My mission is simple: to help artists, makers, creatives, and entrepreneurs bring their dreams to life online, so they can focus on what really matters — creating — instead of chasing algorithms.

This little spark of an idea has already reignited my sense of purpose. And if you’re a creative who wants to grow your digital presence with authenticity and soul — I’d love to help. Let’s make magic.