Geeky Girl Guide to a Trendy Con

14 Mar


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Recently, I was asked to be a VIP influencer for the Natural Hair and Health Expo. I’ve been wanting to attend for a while, but I had a lot of hesitations.

  1. I’ve only been natural for a few years, and even so I still get my hair straightened.
  2. I can barely do my own hair. It ends up getting done by a pro and then I let it stagnate for a month or attempt to wash it and fail miserably.
  3. I’m a dork – even if I did know how to do my own hair, it’s never been a priority, so why spend a bunch of time at an expo.
  4. My history with my hair is nothing compared to my history with black women. I was recently dumped by a black gf and it tore me up and brought back memories of my years being bullied by black women. Would I even feel comfortable?

Turns out, I had all of the wrong ideas. Being a VIP influencer meant having to post about the expo. I apparently had the perfect social media presence for it because I personally ensured one ticket was sold – a VIP ticket with my friend Que, who I hadn’t had a chance to hang out with very much.

That ended up being the difference maker, and it’s the pro con-going tip that changes everything.

Like all conventions, the best part about attending events are the people you go with.

Everything else can suck, but as long as you’re with the right people, it will work out. Keeping that as your focus means the world.

While I loved the VIP room, the free goodies and food, the best experience was making the drive from Tuscaloosa with a friend and seeing her happy. That was amazing. We laughed and giggled so much, and she even connected with an incredible celeb. Even if everything else was terrible (which it wasn’t!) that connection made the whole trip worth it.

And the other tip that other geeky convention goers already know – you’ll encounter all kinds of people at this event. Even though I’m not trendy in the slightest and ended up not feeling well enough to get my hair done, no one was really paying attention to that.

Here’s my take on this expo for those who spend less than 30 seconds on their hair every day.

What I Loved

The guides and volunteers – there was never a shortage of people to ask questions or get help. My VIP media guide was always available via phone and email and the folks helping out were really sweet and as helpful as possible.

The vendors – one thing that my friend Que noted was the sheer number of black-owned businesses. We were just in awe. And sometimes black folks underwhelm with their products and marketing. Not so here – it was incredible. The goodie bags were unbelievable in quality.

I even saw some friends showing off their political campaigns and were floored! So proud to know these folks.

The classes we took were freaking phenomenal – learned so much about financing for my business and about homebuying. Still can’t believe how much I learned.

Lessons for Next Time

I was promised Wi-Fi and no one knew the password. (Did I mention I’m a dork? This blog is for nerds, remember!?

Looks like part of the VIP experience was checking out one of the panels but they didn’t take that into account with all of the folks who had pre-registered, so it was hard to find any seats.

Every vendor needs to have a table. We were dying to buy some of the cupcakes we tried at the tasting. There was a lot of confusion about even if we were supposed to have any and they didn’t have a table!

So glad to have attended and can’t wait for next year.


12 Tips for the Anxious or Introverted Activist

31 Dec activism for introverts or depressed or anxious

activism for introverts or depressed or anxious

Being introverted or dealing with anxiety and depression doesn’t mean that you can’t make a difference after what has been an insane year for political activism.

One of the coolest things I discovered is text banking, where you’re assigned a certain number of phone numbers and you use a platform to text them individually. You use pre-filled phrases and no one will know your number. It’s pretty brilliant. Check out OpenProgress for more on this.


Sometimes I still wonder why people think the term “SJW” is somehow negative. And if we’re going to be honest, I’m really not a “social justice warrior.” I’m more like a social justice ranger. (Yes, I’m really referring to my preferred class in an RPG. They are just so much more fun and powerful than some of the other classes, at least as far as damage-dealing goes. This is a nerd blog, ya’ll! But I digress.)

Being new to the whole social justice scene has brought a lot of ups and downs. Overall, there has been more ups, even though this year has been one major downer. Today I was listening to my new fave podcast Pod Save America, which started about the same time in 2017 as I did this journey into become more politically involved, and they were talking about how easy it is to just shut things out. (Unless you’re a social media addict like I am.)

It’s really easy to turn off the TV and not read any newspapers and stay as oblivious as possible to the news of the day. But that there are certain rewards of being active that you can’t really replicate or get anywhere else. And they are so right. (As always.)

“Making a difference” is one of the most overused and cliched phrases ever. I honestly wish people would stop using it, but it’s a good one. It’s just vague enough to include pretty much any kind of volunteer work. And it’s super important.

This year I’ve done things I never thought about doing – canvassing at a voting precinct for my local Democratic Party office, working at a local office, helping people with their social media campaigns when running for office, holding fundraisers for political causes and facilitating programs like Emerge that has truly blossomed this year.

As someone who suffers from anxiety and depression, this has been a super tough year to be active in literally everything, but for some reason this sense of urgency I’ve felt since last November hasn’t subsided much. (Maybe because Mueller’s investigation is taking too long? I don’t know. There does seem to be a new issue to get fired up about each day and that’s probably what keeps me going.)


I have a bunch of tips here for people who have mental health issues or are introverts. This is what you can do when you want to do something but don’t always have the bandwidth.

There are tangible mental health benefits to volunteer, but that’s another post for another time. Here you go!

  1. Take breaks often and with other people.
  2. Only pick a couple of other organizations to get involved in. Spread your time wisely.
  3. Pick only one activity or two activities per week to do. Spend the rest of the time chilling out and being a “normie” or a maybe an apolitical Muggle like you used to be.
  4. You’re not going to like some people. If you have the option of pulling away from those organizations, do so quickly.
  5. The best way to be involved is to subscribe to email newsletters that keep you up to date on what’s going on.
  6. When feeling down, just give an hour.
  7. When lacking energy, just give money. (I prefer you give to Emerge Alabama, but I’m completely biased.)
  8. The best option is to help someone who is also new to the political scene run for office. You’ll learn a crap ton.
  9. Treat it like any other “extracurricular” activity. Make sure to keep your personal life separate from it as much as possible.
  10. Don’t try to convince your family or friends to help you. In fact they’ll probably think you’re weird and ban you from talking about topics like that. But that’s why lesson #2 is so important.
  11. Minimize and simplify – you’re going to have a ton of papers, business cards and brochures. Try to take notes and go as paper free as possible. Otherwise you’ll get overwhelmed.
  12. Use past successes (that you’ve hopefully written down!) to motivate you to keep going.

We’ve got this. Anything can happen. (Just look at what happened with Doug Jones!)

#Charlottesville Is Only a Hashtag For Now

13 Aug

I wanted to piece together all of the insights and opinions and fun on NetRoots Nation 2017, and how I am so excited and determined to make the most of the experience, but my thoughts (and all of my social media feeds) are stuck in Virginia, and so that’s where my head is right now.

So here’s a brain dump of today. Unedited.

I’m not sure particularly sure why this was getting so much attention ahead of time. I guess in the social media age, everything is newsworthy. When someone brought it up the day before at a session on the religious left, I dug around on Google and thought, “What’s the big deal? A bunch of idiots are protesting statues?”

It’s not like white supremacist rallies are a new thing. I guess living in the south, these just seem like regular occurrences, especially in the Trump. Even though my tiny town has an active KKK in it, I’m not fearful for my life. We just take precautions and don’t walk around our neighborhood. Seeing the shock on people’s faces when I mentioned this earlier in the week reminded me that no, this is not normal. The quick sigh of disappointment when someone suggests to “take a walk” or “go for a run” when feeling stressed isn’t something people should be experiencing.

But it could be worse, right?

When I was presented with the idea of canvassing my neighborhood to run for office, the idea was immediately nixed by my beloved. But, no. This isn’t something most people experience. I should be able to walk around my neighborhood like I see so many others do. I want to finally the meet the nice older lady who knows everyone and I always see walking around with her well-behaved but unleashed golden lab

But that’s not so bad, is it?

I guess I’m more fortunate than I think some times. Or just more oblivious and naive. Or jaded. So seeing that three people died, for a split second, I thought, “Oh. That’s not so bad.” I live in a world where a single digit death count is not so bad. Only three families lives are ruined by violence.

It could be worse, right?

Much like I’m constantly battling my brain to both bring awareness to my mental illness and “normalize” it without forgetting that yes, the way I see and react to things will be different than “normal” people, I’m also battling with the idea that racism affects me in ways that don’t seem so bad but affect me nonetheless.

Of course, this is my brain in full survival mode. Since anxiety is essentially a constant state of “fight or flight,” I have to minimize what I react to. My brain is far too full of “catastrophes” to focus on just one. So the waves of outrage all over the internet over someone getting run over by a car shocks me a bit, even though at the same time, all I can do is  post and read and watch about what has happened.

Welcome to humanity. Welcome to adulthood, where you have to measure your outrage, downplay your fear and ferociously focus on the positive. Yes, I’ll hit “like” on your vacation photos, while simultaneously trying to explain for the umpteenth time why racism is a topic I will always talk about. Yes, I can sit down and watch an episode of Ducktales while reading about the far-too-short life of a counter-protester who died trying to cross a street.

What’s weird is that people will read this and wonder why I haven’t fallen to pieces already. Isn’t she a highly-sensitive person? Doesn’t she struggle with anxiety and depression? Why isn’t she in tears right now? How can she even write? Well, currently, writing is all I can do. After a long trip, I don’t have the physical energy to do much else except sleep.

Right now I can’t listen to an audio book or a podcast. I can’t even play a simple match-3 game. I tried. I could do work. I sent an invoice upon request. Does that count? I’m making some tater tots, and waiting to wash another load of clothes, so those count as actions, right? I should be going to a vigil about Charlottesville but the drive and the socializing and the sadness of it all would be like a few more drops of water in a bucket that’s on the brink of running over.

So for now, I feed myself junk, a Spotify “Brain Food” instrumental playlist, writing, deliberate and persistent hubby affection and bad television. It’s not ideal self care, but it’s all I can do right now.

Dear President Obama: Please Stay Close

19 Jan

obama speakingA tear-stained face is not a great way to start a morning commute. But as I watched you give the Medal of Freedom to Ellen Degeneres (and now Vice President Biden), I was reminded of what a great orator you are.

So while I was getting ready for work, I decided to pull up your eulogy of Rev. Clementa Pinckney after the 2015 Charleston shooting.

As a South Carolina native and lover of the city of Charleston, this event shook me to my core. Even though the event has long since passed, I couldn’t bring myself to listen to this speech when it happened. I just kept picturing the moment when I found out, and I could do nothing but cry.

I think at one point, I briefly saw a video of you singing “Amazing Grace,” but that was it. Today, I finally listened to it. When I was getting ready for work and then in my car on the way there, I began to cry. I began to think about what a horrible time that was for South Carolina, and you reminded me of how we triumphed after that tragic day.

And like many people before me, I will say, “I will miss you.” Yes, I’ve giggled at all of the jokes calling for a third term and the intimate moments with you and Vice President Biden being turned into silly memes.

Yes, I wanted Biden to run and I want Michelle to run. These are sentiments so many people share today. You were my favorite president not simply because you and your family resemble mine. But because you represented all of us. You were straightforward and stern yet kind and friendly.

Many folks like me who consider themselves progressives but also have some conservatism in their ideology weren’t always happy with how things have turned out over the past eight years. But I am in awe of what you’ve managed to accomplish under possibly the most intense scrutiny and unwarranted prejudice a president has ever had to endure.

So, you may see me chant or use #4MoreYears jokingly, but in my heart of hearts, I know that can’t happen. So I humbly request that you stay with us. Even if it’s through social media, blogging, book writing or the occasional event appearance, please stay in our lives.

I know once you leave the White House your primary focus will be on Michelle and your children. They’re still so young and you are probably brimming with excitement over being with them in a more normal capacity.

So now I’ll spend more time listening to speeches of yours that I’ve missed or or those I wish to hear again.

Please don’t disappear. Please don’t fade into the spotlight forever. Now, more than ever, we need you. We need your words of hope and encouragement and your commitment to serving the American people.

And my only consolation and hope is that once your presidency ends, you can become more vocal and more visible than you have been. I hope this will increase your accessibility to the American people and those around the world who admire, love and respect you. God bless you, Mr. President.

Not long after I wrote this, I saw this post, which echoes my sentiments. It’s extremely well-written!

#WhyIMarch: I’m Pro-Life, Christian & I Support Planned Parenthood

14 Jan

Faint shouts of “Come here!” and “Jesus loves you!” greeted me as I stood outside a Planned Parenthood clinic trying to assist a stranger. Like me, she had been in the waiting room for what seemed like ages. Her car wasn’t cranking, so I waited with her outside until help arrived.

Earlier, I was getting chilly in the waiting room, so I went to get a jacket from the car. The shouts from the protesters roused.

Scoffing a bit, I told them, “I love Jesus too! And I’m not here for an abortion.”

“Okay, good. Come on over here. Let us pray for you.”

I shook my head, exhaled and kept going. It would be a few weeks before I marry my husband. Until then, I didn’t have proper medical insurance to get birth control. I use it for other reasons besides contraception.

After what felt like eons, a group of us were called back. There were several rows of small chairs facing a tiny television. We were asked to watch a video, and then  (eventually) we would be seen by a doctor.

Then my confusion turned to fear. I was watching a video about about an abortion pill. The simplicity of the instructions frightened me.

Me, a pro-lifer, in the middle of this mix-up. The video ended and I scrambled back to the counter and said, “I’m in the wrong place. I’m just getting a pap!”

Some of us were shuffled into a smaller room with chairs and blankets. It reminded me of my mother’s chemotherapy treatment room – small, a bit cramped and devoid of chatter or activity.

I looked around at the faces of the women around me and felt so scared for them. Most of them looked in their 20s, possibly late teens. And they were about to take one little pill to erase a “mistake.”

Flashbacks of a protest I attended as a teenager trickled back. I remembered the enlarged posters of aborted fetuses. (I couldn’t bring myself to hold one up.)

Someone gave me a book revealing the “truth” about Planned Parenthood. I tossed it in the back seat of my car but never read it.

Those thoughts drifted to the back of my brain. I blinked my eyes a few times and looked around. Everyone was gone except for me.

I had dozed off for who knows how long. 30 minutes? An hour? This would not bode well as I was supposed to be at work. I went back to the counter and, finally, I was seen by someone.

An anxiety disorder makes paps ridiculously painful and embarrassing. I remember the sound of the speculum clanking on the floor after the interminable test was done. My body physically rejected it.

Finally. Finally. I received birth control prescriptions and left the building.

The protesters were gone. They had done their work for the day, I suppose.

Several weeks later, the most perfect day of my life – the day of our wedding – came and went.  I no longer needed PP for medication or check-ups and my life continued.

It wasn’t until I read about plans to defund Planned Parenthood did this memory push forward in my mind. I read stories about women having to resort to unwanted pregnancies or dangerous abortion procedures, because they couldn’t make it to a hospital.

I could see them – overburdened, crying and in pain. The very idea was dreadful.

This is when I became anti-abortion, not pro-life.

Think about it, is there any one out there who is pro-abortion? Of course not.

If faced with an unbearable choice, I’d be more inclined to think about adoption. I do believe that life starts at conception.

More options is the answer, not restricted access. From my experience alone, I’d advocate for more funding for these types of clinics.

A woman should be able to select from different options when she’s pregnant.  We are in the most powerful country in the world. Our women deserve choices.

Somehow, not even the phrase “pro-choice” encompasses everything I’m passionate about.

What happens if the child grows up in a poor home or an ill-kept foster home? What if a woman was raped, traumatized and pregnant?

What about their loved ones, who must help her pick up the pieces of her life? How could I say I’m truly “pro-life” if I don’t consider the other countless lives involved around the upbringing of this child?

Maybe if more “pro-lifers” went inside the clinic to volunteer instead of barking at patients outside, they’d understand.

Maybe if “pro-lifers” were focused on caring for women, they wouldn’t have voted for an ill-suited, misogynistic president-elect based on this one issue. (Yes, I am aware of people who voted for Trump just because Clinton is pro-choice. It doesn’t make sense.)

Saying #ImWithPP doesn’t make me any less of a Christian. Even though my experience was unpleasant, having the clinic really helped me.

I still think abortion should be the last resort for women. But my mission of faith extends beyond the womb. My soul is eager to embrace and support other women no matter their circumstances.

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