How it all Started
I’m often asked about the beginning of my career. “How did it start? What is an apprenticeship like? How do you feel about gatekeeping? How did you get your tattoo apprenticeship?”
The beginning was such a rollercoaster . It’s hard to really explain the value of the experience, but I’ll try my best with the first day.
I think of this moment as the true start of my tattoo career. I had been hanging around this tattoo shop for a couple weeks thanks to my sister, who knew one of the owners, Shay. Black Cat Tattoo in Honolulu. It was and still is one of the best in town. I was determined to become a tattoo artist, and had just started the long journey a few months prior. Even though they hadn’t offered an apprenticeship, they let me come by to hang out and draw. I showed up every day, painting flash, staying out of the way, and trying to prove I was serious without saying much.
One day, I walked in and saw a new face. I figured he was a guest artist. I kept my head down and went back to drawing working on a clumsy little flash sheet of beetles and crystals. He came over, glanced at it, and said, “There’s not enough black. These look off,” pointing to one of the beetle’s wings.
I shrugged it off. “Thanks but That’s how I wanted it to look,” I said without looking up.
He shrugged, and went back to his own drawing.
Later that night, after I had gotten home, I got a call from my sister. She was heated. “Roger, what did you do?! Shay is pissed!”
“…Shay??” I asked, confused.
“Yeah! That guy you met today you didn’t say hi, didn’t introduce yourself. He thinks you’re disrespectful.”
My stomach dropped. I had unknowingly brushed off the very person who could make or break my shot at tattooing.
The next day, I came in with a peace offering—the only thing a broke 20-something could think of: turkey wraps. I dropped them on the table and waited for Shay to come in, not knowing what to expect. When Shay walked in, he locked eyes with me from across the room and made a straight line toward me.
He got in close. “Do you know who the fuck I am?”
“I didn’t yesterday… but I do now,” I said, red-faced.
He let me have it called me out for not introducing myself, for ignoring his advice, for acting like I didn’t care. I apologized. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “Don’t be sorry. Be better.”
And honestly? He was right. That moment stuck with me. And it was the beginning of a long and fulfilling friendship. It taught me two things I still live by:
Always introduce yourself. First impressions matter more than you think.
Take advice with humility. Even if you don’t agree, listen—there’s probably something in it for you.
That moment wasn’t just the start of my career, it was the start of a mindset I still carry. Give respect to everyone. You never know who you're really meeting.
Gatekeeping is a big conversation in the tattoo world lately. Personally, I see it as a tool… or more accurately, a weapon. In the wrong hands, it can cut people out who might bring something beautiful to the craft. But in the right hands, it protects the art from those who might dilute or exploit it.
If I hadn’t really wanted to be part of this tattoo world, I might’ve hung up on my sister and never gone back to face Shay and the shame associated with my actions. Maybe I would’ve found another shop to paint at, but I wouldn’t have learned that same powerful lesson: tough love matters. And tattoos, at their best, are exactly that, tough love. That was Day One for me, and it was beautiful.
Some might call what happened gatekeeping or even hazing. But think about it: if you have some cherished thing sitting in your living room, do you leave the door wide open for anyone to take it? Or do you hold onto it and gaurd it? And make sure, when its time to share it, that those you share it with, have admirable intentions?
Me and Shay chillin after a tattoo convention in Salt Lake City a couple of years back. Butter is hard to come by in the mountains!
