You know how you find yourself in a small circle of people and you begin having a conversation about something rather tender? Everyone appears to be comfortable with it because the circle is small. There is safety in numbers. Especially small ones. The issue is, naturally, race. It’s a topic that I’ve come to be comfortable talking about and it appears that people are comfortable speaking about it with me. Curse or blessing? Some days it’s both. But I’ll never shy away from it when it comes up in conversation circles.

One of the questions I got asked most often (by white women) at the BlogHer conference was:

“Should I come to your session? Or is it just for women of color?”

I only cringed during the first few conversations where I was asked that question. I willed my brain to remain inside my head and prayed for the neurons to connect. Please, God, let not my brains ooze out of my ears right now. Then I came up with a stock answer:

“Are you interested in diversity? Because this is a conversation about diversity and the marginalization of our sister-writers of color who have been forgotten. And quite frankly? We’re tired of having this conversation by ourselves.”

As an educator who attends many conferences during the school year I cannot imagine a teacher who sees a session with the title “diversity” or “students of color” and then decides to stay away from it because they don’t look like the very students they are going to learn more about. They run to it. They want to find out more about culture and the role it plays in schools. BlogHer is an occasion of professional development and I’m sad for anyone who decided that they weren’t Black enough or Latina enough or Asian enough to attend our session.

This isn’t a recap of the session that I presented with Heather B of No Pasa Nada, Stefania of City Mama and Karen of Chookooloonks. Even though it was, in my humble opinion, the session with the absolute best participants during the whole weekend. Some of the backstory can be found here with the post I wrote two years ago. It was a conversation that was in dire need of happening and it was standing room only. Some very good friends came to support us in that session and I was more than pleased to hear Mir ask the question about whether or not companies and marketers know who our demographics were. Do we have all Black or all Asian readers? Absolutely not. This is no more true than me reading all Black blogs. Mir and I are both readers of one another and I appreciated her offering that up to the session. (If you’re so inclined to leave a comment here today please feel free to state what demographics you fit because these marketers and PR folks need to see who’s reading me and it might be a wake up call for them.)

As I surveyed the crowd to see who would be participating in this session I realized that Donna Byrd from The Root and Ilene Chaiken, the creator of The L Word were standing in the back of the room. These creative, powerful, talented women were listening to this conversation and at one point I had to cross my legs to keep from jumping off the stage to tackle them. Instead, I handed each of them my oh-so-classy card. (Note to self: bring two sets of cards from now on and even bring one from my day job for bloggers in the education world.) (You have to know this, though, both of those women took my card and laughed when they read it.) (No, I will not tell you what it read. It was a location joke. You had to be there.) (But if you weren’t there I really missed you! Yes, YOU.)

Many of the women I came in contact with this weekend also got to hear about how much I detest the word “post-racial”. What does that even mean? Why are we throwing it around as an excuse to no longer recognize racism? It irritates me to no end to hear, “Well, we have a Black man in the White House. We’re post-racial!” It’s all folks can do not to jump for joy as all of our problems with race have magically disappeared! Please. Tell me what color the sky is in your world because I want to live there.

The issue of discussing race is that diversity conversations have been happening in silos. Certainly, there is a time and place for some of them to happen, but please, if I could make a request when considering joining in a conversation of race, don’t shy away from it. It’s twitchy and fraught with many shades of awkwardness. Most of the time we don’t come away from them feeling as if we’ve solved every problem, but we’re talking. Keep talking. The only reason we got here is that we kept asking the questions. I’m am of two minds on the issue of marketing: first, that as a blogger, there is inequity in the pitches that women of color get. While that’s changing, I have to wonder just where my influence lies if companies are still finding it difficult to speak with me. Rest assured, this isn’t with everyone, but I can only share my experiences. The other mind I am of this is that as a writer I want to remain scrupulous in my content. Both of those things happen in this space and there is a balance out there for me. There is a balance out there for everyone.

Last summer I was honored to be contacted by The Washington Post. In fact, I thought it was a fluke. Me? You want me to write something for you? An editor worked with me on several drafts of something that never got to see the light of day. It was bad timing for this opportunity because newspapers began a movement of radical change at the time. Oh, how I wish that would have worked out for me. I’ve been embarrassed to admit this missed opportunity because I mentioned that I had some secret news and then it never came to fruition. Yet, it remains for me a reason to keep going and to keep writing and to keep talking about those things we need to talk about.

This is a small circle. It expands, contracts, moves out again and there are some problems that need to be addressed. Keep talking and having this conversation. Race won’t go away. Neither will my writing. It’s here forever with or without big magazines or newspapers.

Truly, keep talking. I’m listening.

Imagine, if you will, that my best friend sends me an invitation to her wedding. Imagine, too, that she lives across the country and there is an entire year before the event. Naturally, I’m going to look at the calendar and check to see if I can make it. Next, I’m going to assess whether or not I’m in need of a new dress and shoes. Then, I’m going to start writing letters to family members and friends and the occasional neighbor to see if they’d like to sponsor me. You know, pay for my airfare, hotel, and possibly pay for some new clothes for me to wear while I’m there. Then, I’m going to mention that I’d love a new DSLR camera and a bigger, better laptop on which to download the pictures because this MacBook I’m using actually belongs to the school district I work for and hey! It’d be great if THEY could pay for it all and give it to me for FREE. All I would have to do is mention them in my card that I give the bride and groom for their wedding present. While I’m at it, perhaps I could get Williams and Sonoma to sponsor a gift. Something really nice and in the price range of $300 or so and, oh, what the hell, I’ll just ask for two of them so that the new couple could enjoy one and so could I! This is a genius plan, right?

You see, bloggers, this is a ridiculous notion. I have a whole 12 months to plan for this wedding. In the meantime, I will have to continue to pay my bills, keep up with my car insurance, buy groceries, and deal with the same financial issues as everyone else. We even have a word for this. It’s called R-E-S-P-O-N-S-I-B-I-L-I-T-Y. If, by chance, I’m unable to afford such things then the conclusion I come to is that I simply cannot go.

Asking for a sponsor on the very post that BlogHer tells us that next year’s conference is in New York City is beyond low. Shame on you.

But I understand why you did that. You saw lots of women do it this year and get away with it. But really, have they? In every circle of women in which I was included in a conversation we were appalled at your behavior. Your lack of shame in striking a pose and declaring that your head-to-toe outfit was sponsored by so-and-so. In fact, my response to that was to do my best model pose and exclaim, “This, ladies? THIS was sponsored by Goodwill and hand-me-downs.” It’s just that I can’t help myself when you act so outrageous.

The onus is on us as a community to fix this. As a community, I was excited that I got to interact with companies this weekend. INTERACT. Which meant that I didn’t grab free swag and leave a party as soon as I collected some loot. I had a conversation with the folks from Microsoft who gave me new information about how to use their new interface and answer my questions. Did they shove crap in my hands? No way. They respectfully cared about me learning something new. Not getting something new.

Obligations from companies who want to see us use their product are at an all time high. Those of us who were sympathetic to the free stuff did our level best to come up with a way to re-use it. Would a hotel employee want this free swag? Could I convince people to give me products that I can take back to my highly impoverished high school and put in the hands of teenagers? While that’s a good intention, companies, it’s not what you wanted. You wanted your product in my hand and you want me to use it and love it and share it. Right? Unless I’m making a poor assumption about that, Mr. and Mrs. Corporate Sponsors, you’re going to have to come up with a way to connect better with me. I’d like to see that happen because the alternative is that you don’t hand out free stuff at all. (As an aside, I don’t expect you to give me expensive products like cameras and those of you who expected that? I’m looking at you.) (Another aside: As I’m looking at you I’m rolling my eyes at you, Greedy McNeedy.)

For some reason, it’s as if we pandered to the lowest common denominator this year with some attendants at BlogHer acting entitled and privileged and like their entire reason for being centered on getting free stuff. I’ll take responsibility here and use the pronoun “we”. That’s because I’m a part of this community and have even signed the pledge to Blog With Integrity. But I did this to write. I only started a blog to write. That’s been the passion all along. If you think you can start a blog and make money right away then you’re doing it wrong. Not just wrong. You’re doing it pathetically and you’re making a poor reflection on the writers.

So, companies? Take all that and learn from it. If you do better, we will do better. Having a better plan helps us all in the long run and we can make better informed decisions about products and things we’d normally purchase.

Or not purchase.

You know. Because maybe we don’t have the money for something and will have to do without.

Back in October I moved into a house. It’s a darling little house with wood floors and heat registers and lovely character. The creaky wood floors make it impossible for my teenagers to sneak in late. The heat registers were quite warm and made for much better skin during the winter months since it’s filled with water. And the character in this house is so amazing that nearly everyone who comes for a visit exclaims, “Wow! This house has…so much…character!”

Since it was a busy time of year what with the school year under way I put off dealing with this quaint office space I now have. I was sure that I would need it to work but then found myself writing while sitting on the couch or sitting in the breakfast nook (It’s so cute! I have a breakfast nook! Just saying it makes it fun! Nook! Nook! Nook!) and so the home office began to be quite messy. Like this:

My own personal albatross is being very disorganized. It’s goes hand in hand with saving too many papers and making stacks out of baby pictures of my friends and not being able to throw away a Christmas card. Like ever.

Here’s what it looks like now:

Here is another view:

Part of my organization has come from the most awesome shredder EVER (see it? It’s over there on the left of the picture above). It’s so good that my friends have come over to use it because it shreds CD’s and credit cards. (Not that I know anything about shredding a credit card but it can do it if I ever need it to do so!) I’ve been purging myself of old crap that I used to be able to burn in the backyard but I can’t do that where I live now so the shredder is coming in handy.

Now, if I can only get my dating life in order.

There’s probably not a shredder big enough for relationships, is there?

If I had the title of this post as a bumper sticker I would rock it SO hard. 

My mother left for South Dakota two weeks ago to spread my gramma’s ashes on my grandpa’s grave, visit her old farmhouse, and spend some time with her sister. We played phone tag for three days and finally she left me a message that she was fine and that she would be home whenever. Then, she asked me to spread the word to my entire family. She gave me the Facebook status inspiration:

Listen up Family peoples: Grandma isn’t getting cell phone reception because she’s driving through a wormhole (or some such shit) and is fine. She wanted me to call you and tell you personally. I don’t have time for that crap. You people are all on FB all. the friggin. time. Resume normal behavior, my cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs family. The rest of you? I’ll be bringing sexy back tomorrow. AS USUALLY.

And then she wrote this in the comments. Of my blog. This here blog. Of all the internet-y ways she could get ahold of me she chose this.

Hi Hon,
This isn’t really a comment on your blog, although it was, as always, heart-stoppingly wonderful. My *#&%(* phone still isn’t working and I realized that I only had your hotmail (hotmail can suck it!!) email address and I wanted to let you know that all is well, I’m out on bail and making a run for the border because I’m sure they don’t have extradition with Illinois. Thelma, I mean Eileen, and I will probably be home early next week. Or middle next week. Early August at the latest. Maybe November. Staying at my friend’s ranch tonight – 70 miles from anything and quite wonderful. Tell Mallory the flowers she sent were beautiful. I took a picture to show her. Went to the old home place and got so excited taking pictures that I forgot to scatter Mom’s ashes, so I’m still hauling some of her around with me. Maybe she just didn’t want to leave me yet.
Hugs all around,
Mom

She is divine. And she’s all mine. You can’t have her.

“Oh. I heard about the (whisper) divorce, Kelly. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you dating yet?”

“You’ll find someone.”

“Oh. I heard about the (whisper) adoptive daughter who came back into your life. Wow. Tell me more about that. How’s it going?”

“You seemed (whisper) depressed this past year in your writing.”

“You don’t have a (whisper) sponsor for this trip? WHAT?” (Indeed, I do. I like to call it My Job. My Paycheck. Sometimes I call it My Bitch.)

“I didn’t want to say anything to you last year because I have (whisper) anxiety about these social events.” (I’m not a rockstar, people. Just a regular woman. Go read Mom-101’s list about that stuff. I bleedeth when prickethed. I also hug when you tell me you read me.)

“I thought you’d be wearing better heels.”

“I’m not going to the so-and-so party. I didn’t get invited. I’ll bet you did.” (Oh, just crash a damn party already if you want.)

Things I’ll likely be saying at BlogHer:

“Yes, you may buy me a drink.”

“These are my hotel keys. Take me back, please, because I can’t find the way.”