The longer version, for people who like the longer version.
I grew up in upstate South Carolina, in a town with one high school. I was the youngest of three, behind my sister Emily and my brother Matt, which mostly meant I inherited bikes and learned to argue early. My father, Mike Trevino, taught chemistry at that high school, CHS, for thirty years and still gets stopped in the grocery store by people who failed his class. My mother, Lisa Carter, kept her own name, which confused every school secretary in the county, and kept the books for her father's heating and air business. Dinner was at six and you were expected to have something to say.
I ran cross country because Matt did, and kept running after he stopped. I still run most mornings. It is the only habit from that town I have never had to rebuild.
The rest of them, briefly. Matt sells commercial heating and air equipment now, two counties over from where our grandfather started, which Mom finds funnier than he does. Emily is a nurse in Greenville and the only one of us who still beats Dad at cards. My parents are in the same house on the same road. The mailbox has been repainted twice and never replaced.
Before running there was skateboarding, and running only got the job because skateboarding left. From eleven to nineteen I spent most of my free hours at a popular skate park an hour from home, the big one everybody in the upstate drove to. I loved doing tricks I had no business trying, and I was never good at them. I was persistent, which at a skate park is almost the same thing. I stopped when I left for college and I have missed it since. The longer version is here.
I did a business degree at a state university a couple of hours from home and finished in 2022. I was not a great student in the way that shows up on a transcript. I was a good student in the way that shows up when a group project is due and someone has to run the meeting.
My first real job was a technology analyst role in the digital group of a regional bank in Columbia. I built internal dashboards and a small amount of payments tooling, and learned that the people who use internal software are the most honest users in the world. They will tell you exactly what is wrong, because they have to use it tomorrow.
In 2023 I moved to Charlotte to be a product manager at a freight-software company. I owned the carrier onboarding product, which is a polite way of saying I owned a very long form, and later a small analytics team. I wrote about what that taught me here. It was the best job I have had. I left it because I wanted to be better at the parts I was worst at, and a graduate program seemed like the honest way to find out which parts those were.
I moved in the summer of 2025 for a graduate program at CUNY. I finish at the end of 2026. I live in a small apartment with a two-burner stove and I have opinions about it.
Most software problems are actually forms problems, calendar problems, or trust problems, and it helps to know which one you have.
The people who do the work know more than the people who buy the software. Talk to the first group before the second.
Ship the boring fix. The clever fix can wait for the second version, which usually never comes, which is usually fine.
I keep this site deliberately quiet. No photos, no contact form, no feeds. If we have worked together you know how to reach me, and if we have not, the notes are the best introduction I can offer.