Who needs venture capital when you’ve got AOL, glue, and a Mama who says, ‘I can make earrings out of that!’
In the early 1990s, when dial-up tones filled the house and AOL was brand new, Mama and I officially named our earring business. We combined Mama’s first name, Sherry, and my middle name, Barika, to create Sherika Originals.
We don’t remember the exact year, but Mama’s AOL email address still exists (and for some reason, I found three unopened AOL disks in her house this past summer). What we do remember is the feeling of turning an idea into something real. That spark of creation shaped everything that came next.
We started Sherika Originals when I was eight years old. I was Mama’s chief helper and salesperson. After school and on weekends, I helped add earring backs and hooks, packaged jewelry, and set up our display tables. I learned how to talk to customers, make eye contact, and share the story behind each piece.
Once, a man who had no interest in jewelry listened to my pitch. He smiled, handed me a five-dollar bill, and said, “You’re going to go far.” That moment stuck with me.
Mama’s first love has always been fabric. She discovered her creative spirit as a young girl when she tried to make her mother a quilt by cutting small squares from the household curtains. The quilt was never finished, and she got in trouble for the missing fabric, but the budding creator was born that day. Over time, she became especially drawn to African fabrics and cultures—their colors, patterns, and stories.
After experimenting with Friendly Plastic, she found small ceramic face molds and transformed them into something special — head-wrapped designs with matching earrings. Then came paper earrings. Then fabric earrings.
Later, we added magnets because they were easy to make and fun to personalize with words and quotes. Over time, our living room became a workshop, our weekends became road trips, and our creativity became a family legacy.
We didn’t need investors or a blueprint. What we had was imagination, courage, and faith in our own hands. Sherika Originals grew into a symbol of creativity, resilience, and the bond between a mother and daughter who believed in possibility.
And through it all, I learned one of the most powerful lessons of my life. The works of your hands can create income. That truth became a seed that would shape how I see work, worth, and creativity to this day.
Question for you:
What creative legacy has been passed down in your family or what are you building for the next generation?
Coming next: Part 3 — Scaling: How we grew from flea markets to Bay Area festivals and discovered the art (and hustle) of selling what we love.
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