5 Takeaways from the Blogging While Brown Conference

A couple of months ago, I decided to get my act together, start blogging again and figure out ways to get my name out there.  One idea that came to mind was to look for speaking opportunities at conferences where my story might be unique.  That’s when I remembered a conference a friend mentioned to me back in the day called Blogging While Brown.  This year’s location?  Washington D.C., which happens to be my current place of residence.

The main point of any conference is to network, but my plan was to attend as a more passive participant.  After all, 90% of what I learned about blogging came from Google and trial and error (I learned the other 10% from Joe Bunting and The Write Practice), might as well attend a real life session or two. Also, I thought I’d check it out to see if BWB was a place where I could pitch something in the future.

I went, and here are my takeaways:

I can make the mobile version of my blog look better!

I attended a session on the Mobile user experience and discovered that it is sooo 2012 for a blog to not look right on a smart phone.   Naya Scarbrough gave a great presentation about designing a blog with the user in mind.  She reminded us that there is a pretty good chance people are reading our blogs on a phone and we should act accordingly.  She also provided some thoughtful tips on how to assist readers who are visually impaired.

I agree with the concept (I mean, my favorite writers are the ones who write with the reader in mind) I’m just lacking a bit in the skills.  Still, I was inspired by the session and, as of today, you no longer see a weirdly cropped version of my header when reading my blog on your phone! Woo hoo! (But I had to change themes to make it happen, which is why my blog looks slightly different now).

Podcasts are the new blogs.

Last month my friend Nicki (who I’ve known since high school) started a podcast called Side Hustle Pro focusing on women of color who turned their side hustles into full on businesses.  When she first told me about the idea, I was really impressed- a podcast, wow!  So cool!  Even though I listen to podcasts literally every day, it never would have occurred to me to start one.  Nicki was at the conference too so I joined her at a workshop hosted by Rob Walsh called “How to be a Podcasting Rock Star.” By the end of the session, I knew Nicki was onto something.

I don’t remember the exact stats but basically there are a million blogs out there and like 1000 podcasts.  Of those podcasts, 75% are hosted by men.  This means that the podcast market is a lot less saturated than the blog one, especially if you’re a woman.  Rob Walsh also pointed that it’s simply easier for people to consume podcasts.  Where it’s hard to multi task while reading a blog, you can listen to a podcast while walking, driving, riding the train, working, exercising, whatever.

So why is everyone blogging?

Black people blog about gaming.

And everything else.  One of my favorite parts of the conference was the Black Weblog Awards*.  The awards ranged from Best Fashion to Best Business to Best Gaming or Comics Blog.  I loved that because it was a reminder that black people blog (i.e., write) about all sorts of topics and do it well.  So shout out to the gaming/comics winner The Deep End Review as well as the person behind Quirky Brown Love (Best Original Graphic Design winner), who made this point in her speech.

There is a point to personal blogs.

At the start of the conference I was still wondering if I should change the direction of my blog.  It is essentially a personal blog because I write about my views and experiences and don’t really try to teach anyone anything or sell anything (although those are welcomed side effects, especially when this book comes out).  I thought, should my blog be more intentional in these ways?

Spoiler alert: The answer is no.

It was the winner of the Best Personal Blog award, Yetti Says, who reminded me why personal blogs are important.  On Yetti Says, she writes openly about mental health issues and made the point that sharing your experiences publicly does a service for people who find themselves in situations similar to yours.  As she spoke I remembered that they was a large reason why I started this.  I imagined that one day I would reach my goal of publication and people would want to know how I did it.  My blog would show them that it wasn’t easy, that I had doubts along the way, but I was able to make it happen- and therefore so could they!

On the other end of the spectrum, words from Arsha Jones–a speaker at the conference who is all about turning page views into dollar signs also convinced me to keep doing what I’m doing.  I told her I had this blog and eventually a book to sell.  She said that authors really do have to sell themselves on their blog to get people interested in their books.  I took that to mean I should keep doing what I’m doing.

 “Writing Your First Book” is a valid topic for a session at Blogging While Brown.

As I mentioned, one of my goals of this conference was to identify potential opportunities for me to potentially speak at it in the future.  What do you know, one of the sessions was called “Writing Your First Book” by Stefanie Newell.  I couldn’t go because I had a conflict, but I think that’s something I’ll be able to talk about one day!


*If you’re wondering why the Blogging While Brown conference had Black weblog awards, I believe it is because they took over the awards from another organization.  Still, it might be worth expanding in light of the conference name…



Will black lives ever matter?

I have been uncharacteristically silent on the police takings of black lives, male lives in particular.  While acutely aware of the structural forces disadvantaging black people in America, I’ve always been hopeful.  I speak about it because I believe, piece by piece, day by day things can change.

But when a child is stalked and killed, and his killer is released; when a man’s neck is gripped tighter when he says he can’t breathe; when a police officer shoots one his citizens in the back without a second thought; when our protectors see no problem shooting a man during a traffic stop with a child in the back seat…

It makes me feel like the destiny of blacks in America is actually fated.  Out of our control. And I shouldn’t be posting anything when I feel that way.

Black lives matter.

Why do we need to tell people that?  In every other post on this blog I’m like- hello!  It’s ok to depict stories about black lifePeople can relate to us because we’re humans!  See our humanity!  I say this frustrated, but hopeful that the tides are changing.

But then black men (women too, but I think the relationship between black men and police is unique one, worthy of distintion) are literally just shot, killed, for no f-ing reason.  And I realize, people really can’t see our humanity.

As Obama said in his Howard commencement speech, “the tie that binds blacks in America is the particular awareness of injustice and unfairness and struggle.”

When people in 2016 are killed by state actors due to the color of their skin, it’s hard to be hopeful.  It’s hard not to see slights and injustices everywhere.  It’s hard not to be angry.  It’s hard not to feel desperate.  If you’re black.

That’s how I feel.

What I think, is that there are things I, and others can do.  We can tell the stories of black lives.  We can read the stories of black lives.  We can run for office.  We can support organizations combating structural racism.  That’s what I think, and what I know.  But I feel numb.




8 Ways OJ Simpson’s Story Makes Me Think

I’m often told by people who have read my fiction, that it made them “think.”  I was hoping to make them “feel,” but it’s OK. I see how they get there.  The fact is, when I write I do see it as a vehicle to comment on society.  I think about what it all means constantly, and I guess that comes out in my writing.

Given all that, it’s probably not surprising that I am fascinated by stories that reveal something meaningful about society as a whole.

Like the story of OJ Simpson.

(I don’t think I need to say this, but OJ was a famous football player turned actor/mogul.  In the 1990s, his ex wife, Nicole, and her friend turned up dead—brutally murdered—and OJ was the main suspect.  The nation watched every second of the trial.  He was acquitted.)

I watched “The People v. OJ Simpson,” a fictionalized mini-series about OJ (incredible!) and now I’m catching up on the ESPN documentary “Made in America,” also about OJ. OJ’s story can be interpreted as a commentary on everything from racial politics to domestic violence to sports.  No matter how you consume his story, it definitely makes you think.

made in america

Courtesy of ESPN.go.com

The OJ Simpson story makes you think about:


We f-ing worship athletes.  Schools worship football programs.  That helped make OJ feel entitled.  It also made him feel non-black, as he claimed sports was the one area where were people in the 1960s could be judged by their abilities rather than their color.

Los Angeles

In a lot of ways, “Made in America” is a story about Los Angeles.  OJ wasn’t just an athlete, he was a movie star.  The police loved him and so did everyone else—so much so that they let him beat his wife.  Meanwhile, people barely cared about poor Ron Goldman, killed the same night as Nicole Simpson, why? Because he wasn’t famous.

Glitz and glamour also made its way into the court room during OJ’s murder trial—while the prosecutor Marcia Clark acted like a lawyer, defense attorney Johnnie Cochran knew to put on a show for the cameras.  Guess who won?

Of course, the outcome of OJ’s trial was also heavily influence by the racial tensions in Los Angeles. I knew about Rodney King, but I didn’t know about Latasha Harlins (a teenage girl shot in the head by a cashier on camera yet never received justice because the cashier did not get any jail time) and the Dalton Ave raid (where the police raided people’s homes searching for drugs, leaving the houses looking like they had been hit by a tornadoes).   Together, these events brought LA to a boiling point.

USC football, the history of the LAPD, the great migration of southern blacks to LA and more—all this LA history comes out in the telling of OJ’s life.

Racial politics

Racial politics was huge during the trial, but they came into play way before then.  At the height of his fame, OJ made it clear that he did not want to be viewed as black, but rather as an individual.  Just OJ.  He rose to fame in 1968, which happens to be the year Martin Luther King was killed and two black American medalists raised black-gloved fists on the podium during the Summer Olympics.  Muhammad Ali and plenty of other athletes were using their platform to speak out against racial injustices.  OJ wanted nothing to do with it.  His goal was to assimilate into a white world, and arguably he did (for a while).

When most people think  of OJ and racial politics, however, they think about the trial.  The defense’s entire strategy was to use the tensions between blacks and the LAPD to make it plausible to the jury that the police set OJ up.  It worked, because that was plausible.

Meanwhile, in the outside world, the country was severely divided.  Most of black America wanted OJ to be not guilty.  Most of white America wanted him to be found guilty.  This divide had nothing to do with the merits of the case and everything to do with racial politics.  Decade upon decade white people were able to attack, murder, and assault black life and get away with it (see section 2).  A lot of black America saw a poetic justice in OJ’s acquittal.

The justice/legal system

It failed everyone.  Nicole Simpson, Ron Goldman, Rodney King, Latasha Harlins, blacks in LA, everyone.

Domestic violence

When I say the system failed Nicole Simpson, it really did.  She called the police on OJ at least 8 times.  Unfortunately, OJ’s stature was more important than the fact that he was beating his wife.  Nicole literally said “he’s going to kill me.”  Still, she had to die before the police would even put him in jail.

Gender politics

This is what I loved most about the fictionalized version of the trial—Marcia Clark, played by Sarah Paulson.  The People v. OJ did a good job depicting the sexism she endured.  The judge, for example, would call her Marcia and Cochran “Mr. Cochran” or counselor.  The media scrutinized her hair, her clothes, her commitment to her children and her relationships.  Marcia Clark’s abilities, and by consequence the evidence against OJ, were severely devalued because of her sex.

people v. oj

Courtesy of fxnetworks.com

LGBT issues

OJ’s father was gay.  It was something he didn’t talk about, and was clearly ashamed of.  He lashed out when he saw Nicole hanging out with gay people.  How much did this unnecessary shame contribute to his anger?


I see so much captured by the telling of OJ’s story, and yet I still wonder about him as a person—as a character.  The fact is that most of the images of OJ are rather nonthreatening and pleasant.  He mastered that public persona.  The only time we really experience the other side of him with our own eyes (or ears) is during the 911 calls Nicole makes to police.  Even today as OJ talks from his jail cell, he comes across as calm, accommodating.

So, again, I wonder- what made him snap? Was it years of smiling in the face of white people in the midst of the civil rights movement?  Was it pent up rage at his father?  Jealousy?  Getting old and losing relevance?  Where did the murderous side of this ambitious, dying to please person come from?