They Told Us to Go Back To Our Country

The elevator doors slid open, and we felt a sense of relief.

This wasn’t the first one, nor the second or third. Each one was packed tight, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, no room for my family and me to squeeze in. The skyscraper-sized hotel we were in was busy, and it seemed like everyone decided to leave at the same time.

The fourth elevator finally had space. Not empty, but enough. We stepped forward.

The family already inside didn’t move. They just stared as if we weren’t supposed to be there. As if the public hotel elevator had become their private suite, and we were invaders to be fought.

I ushered my kids in anyway and made space where they wouldn’t.

That’s when a man—the patriarch of the family, it seemed—grumbled: “You people…”

Thinking back on it, I could have taken the high road, but I didn’t.

Instead of pretending like I didn’t hear what I just heard, I decided to engage. With my kids looking on, there was no way I was going to teach them to buckle in the face of a bully.

When we finally arrived at the lobby, the doors opened once again, and we stepped out. He looked right at me. Then, at my kids. And with absolute certainty, he said:

"Ya’ll just need to go back to where you came from."

Just like that.

He was wrong for not showing common courtesy, and likely offended that I dared not stay quiet. So he could only do what any feeble-minded small man could, and that was to stoop even lower with vitriol and hate.

And for a moment, everything froze.

My kids looked at me. Not with fear. But with a kind of stunned silence, as if they were trying to make sense of a language they hadn’t learned yet.

I didn’t raise my voice. But I didn’t stay quiet either. I stood my ground. I met his gaze, and after some choice words, a couple of onlookers began to rightfully berate the man. We then walked away.

In that elevator, I remembered exactly why I write this newsletter.

I wasn’t going to share this. I don’t believe in playing victim. But I do believe in naming things when they reveal the truth.

Because the truth is: this wasn’t the first time I’ve felt that kind of resentment.

I’ve seen it in elevators, in boardrooms, in bank lobbies, and behind polite smiles. It doesn’t always show up as slurs. Sometimes it shows up as questions wrapped in suspicion:

“What exactly do you do?”

“How’d you get that house?”

“Must be nice.”

Some people don’t mind seeing others succeed… as long as we don’t achieve too much. Stay quiet. Stay “grateful.”

But when people like us start to build bigger? When we start to win? When we own property, equity, and time? That’s when it starts to bother them. That’s when the mask slips.

That’s why I teach what I teach…

This newsletter isn’t just about stocks, Bitcoin, or investments.

It’s about sovereignty.

It’s about taking control of your future when the system wants to control you. It’s about building a financial engine so robust that no one can ever tell you where you do or don’t belong.

My parents brought me to this country when I was still a kid. We had no blueprint. No safety net. Just grit, hunger, and the belief that we could carve out a better life that didn’t depend on luck (maybe a little luck) or handouts.

We came to escape the limits of a rigged system… only to find that this one was rigged too, just in different ways.

But I stayed. I learned. And I built.

I turned skills into income. Income into structure. Structure into wealth. And wealth into freedom.

Not just freedom from bills or bosses. But freedom from being told what I’m allowed to dream.

When people say things like “go back to where you came from,” what they really mean is:

How dare you succeed? How dare you win at a game that wasn’t designed for you? How dare you refuse to stay small and quiet?

They don’t expect someone who looks like me, or maybe talks like me, or came from where I came from, to end up here.

Owning assets. Owning your time. Owning your future.

Most of us are outsiders. Even if you’re not from another country like I am, most of us weren’t born with money, or grew up in country clubs, or went to elite private schools.

But here’s the part they’ll never understand.

When you grow up as an outsider, you develop two priceless advantages:

1. You learn how to navigate systems you don’t control.

2. You stop expecting fairness and start building leverage.

That’s the origin story of every first-generation success I know. We didn’t inherit power, so we learned how to manufacture it. Not through politics. Through ownership.

Through learning how money works. Through understanding the difference between being paid and owning the machine that pays you.

Through assets like real estate, gold, and Bitcoin, because we’ve seen what corrupt currencies do to honest people.

Through business-building, because we were tired of begging for jobs. Through financial engineering, because the only way to not get played… is to learn how to play better.

So no, I’m not going back.

I’m going forward. With more clarity than ever. And I’ll keep teaching my kids—and maybe yours—how to do the same.

Because if you build your own economy, no one can deport your dreams.

Let me say something else, especially for those of you reading this who’ve never had to deal with something like that elevator moment:

Most of the people I’ve met on this journey, of every background, are good. They’re curious. Open. Generous.

But moments like this remind me that not everyone wants you to rise.

And that’s why we build. That’s why we own. That’s why we protect our families with the tools of sovereignty.

So every time someone tries to shame you, shrink you, or scare you… Build.

Build something so resilient, so undeniable, so sovereign… that you or your children never have to wonder if they belong.

Let’s get back to work.

Double D

P.S. A lot of people talk about “economic freedom” like it’s just a buzzword. But if you’ve ever been told you don’t belong, you know it’s much more than that. That’s why I own Bitcoin. That’s why I own assets. And that’s why I never stop learning.

P.S. #2 If you’re a Premium Member, you may have noticed there’s a new Portfolio page on the Moonshot Minute website. When you open it, and if you’re a Premium Member in good standing, you’ll see a new portfolio page that looks like this: (I’ve blurred out the actual recommendations below)

You can always go to any email I send you and scroll to the bottom for the paid research and ideas, but many of you asked for a single place to see all of the recommendations I’ve made.

Check it out today and let me know what you think.

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