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Chi-Town! True Confessions of The Blogrollers’ BlogHer ‘09 or Bust Road Trip

20 Comments 27 July 2009


I’m okay people! I (finally) made it back from my big Blogrollers BlogHer ’09 or Bust road trip to Chicago for BlogHer 2009 with Christie of My Life a Work in Progress, Lorraine of Ask Wifey and Jennifer of The Baby Makin(g) Machine. I met my people. I made new friends. I heard—and made!—some thought-provoking speechifying. Put at least five pounds of delicious Chicago vittles on my hips. And lived to tell about it (even with Chatterbox behind the wheel!). Here’s the re-cap:

Day 1: We rolled into Chicago five hours behind schedule. The Chevy Traverse was downright dreamy—lots of room, smooth ride, satellite radio with a solid hip hop station that played The Chronic, A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, and Bizmarkie, and a video player that rocked the second season of The Dave Chappelle Show. What’s not to love? Side-eye at OnStar, though, for getting us all the way to Louisville, KY, only to start giving us blow-by-blow directions—in Spanish. Right. We made it all the way through Indiana and to Michigan the ol’ school way (nods to MapQuest print-outs), only to sit in traffic for three hours wading through barriers set up for President Obama, who was in his hometown the same time as us (I would have stalked, but, you know, you don’t really stalk the president without getting your feelings—and a few other things—hurt). So between the bad directions and the traffic, we missed all the good parties. No biggie, though: We ended up checking out the Chicago sites—the Harbor, the Magnificent Mile, some incredible architecture and street art—and having a kick-booty meal at Bandera, where the steak and the homemade Oreo ice cream dessert made my doggone night. My night, I tell you!

Day 2: I kicked off my conference right, with a stop in on a panel, featuring Cutie Booty Cakes’ Renee Ross (peep those super sexy red shoes she’s sporting!), about how to extend your blogging “tribe.” I appreciated the tips—visit other blogs, connect with people who aren’t like you, get involved in what other bloggers are doing—but I couldn’t help but to feel like there’s STILL a ridiculous amount of divisiveness/segregation in the bloggy world, in which mainstream (re: white-run) blogs that claim to be for all moms speak mostly—if not only—to white moms, and rarely reciprocate visits to/comments on/involvement in blogs run by moms of color who readily and happily support them.

Well, seems I touched a nerve with that one; twitter was abuzz with a few folks suggesting that people are “intimidated” by MyBrownBaby, presumably because the word “brown” is in the title and it features content about moms who are African American. I thought that was an odd little thing to say, particularly since I’ve written quite passionately HERE about how, though MyBrownBaby is written from MY perspective as a black mom, it’s a space that welcomes and encourages the opinions and insight of ALL moms, no matter their color/race/nationality/background/political leanings/big toe size. Needless to say, it got a little hot up in there for a minute, so much so that my girl over at The Prisoner’s Wife, a lovely writer you should get to know, wrote a post about it. Wanna see it? HERE IT GOES.

Anyway, you should know by now that mess like this doesn’t really shake your girl. I went to the Maria Bailey hosted Disney Mom Bloggers Reunion party, where I bonded with the amazing group of women who’ve all enjoyed the mom magic of Disney, and then headed back to my room, put on some lipstick and my six-inch glamazon platform wedges and high-stepped it over to the Nikon party with co-Blogroller guest Jennifer of the BabyMakin(g)Machine, the beautiful and talented Jennae of Green Your Décor, the uber cute and spunky Sheena of MommyDaddyBlog (who just is incapable of taking a bad picture!) and my girl Katja of Skimbaco Lifestyle, whom I absolutely adore. Carson Kressley was in the house, and a small army of masseuses, hair stylists, and make-up artists were there to pretty up the crowd, but the highlight for me, by far, was Nikon’s drool-worthy new camera, the NIKON D-5000 (its video capabilities and swivel viewfinder make it SO sexy), and Kris, a Nikon photographer who showed me how to use my D-50. I swear, Kris changed my life.


[Sheena of MommyDaddyBlog, getting her top model on]


[Me with Jennifer of The Baby Makin(g) Machine, a.k.a. Young 'Un]


[Me and sweetie pie Katja of Skimbaco Lifestyle]


[My D-50 is cute and all, but this? My dream camera!]

Later, we made our way over to the Macy’s Tower for The Lush Experience with my girls from Mama Law, the lovely Justice Fergie, Justice Ny, and Justice Jonesie. The three are behind the upcoming mom bloggers of color conference, Blogalicious (don’t you just LOVE that name?), coming to Atlanta in October. Their party was the place to be; Afrobella, Corynne Corbett of That Black Girl Site and a lot of other fantastic bloggers of color were in the house, and we all got to sample Lush’s handmade, natural products. Of course, I left with more products than any one woman should ever buy in one trip, including this absolutely deliciously citrus Sexy Peel Soap. Later, we had a sleepover, sans the sleep, at the Justice’s suite, where we polished off desserts and wine from their swanky affair, and talked until the wee hours of the morning. I’m absolutely in love with these women; you MUST make a point of visiting them at Mama Law, and supporting Blogalicious, where I and some other fantastic mom bloggers of color will be speaking.

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Day 3
I kicked off my day watching a spirited panel/talk-it-out fest on marketing to multicultural bloggers. A rundown on the conversation in that room is impossible to do here; I’ll keep top eye out for any videos/audio of the exchanges, which were smart, informative, funny, thought-provoking and eye-opening. Bottom line is: Moms of color are blogging, we have influence and it’s downright foolhardy for companies looking to do business with moms to keep ignoring our divine power and Gucci purses. (Shout out to Karen of CHOOKOOLOONKS, who not only has one of the most amazingly beautiful (visually and poetically) blogs I’ve seen, but also holds it down for us on Momversation, one of my latest obsessions.)

Later, I had a chat with the Pepsico-sponsored Blog Talk Radio show with John Havens, who wanted to know all about why I started MyBrownBaby and just what I meant about that divisiveness comment I made in Friday’s panel. Somehow, we also ended up talking about the whole Skip Gates brouhaha, and then later realized that we lived in neighboring towns when my family was based in South Orange, NJ. Shout-out to John—I really enjoyed our talk about race, diversity, and the “N” word, which extended well beyond the taped show. Keep making it do what it do, John!

Later, still, I signed copies of “Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man,” in the BlogHer Expo (it’s STILL No.1 on the New York Times Hardcover Advice Bestseller’s List!), and then had a hearty rib, spinach, and chocolate martini dinner at The Webber Grill with my The Blogroller pals Lorraine of Ask Wifey, Christie of A Work In Progress, Jennifer of The BabyMakin(g) Machine, and Justice Fergie and Justice Jonesie of MamaLaw—the perfect ending to a wonderful weekend.

I’d like to thank The BlogRollers for letting me ride shotgun with them to Chicago—we had such sidesplitting, Thelma & Louise-style fun in that Chevy Traverse, my doggone sides STILL hurt (get the blow-by-blow on Twitter HERE), and I’m so glad for the friendship we forged on our journey. The OnStar ultimately got us back to Georgia safe and sound. I’d also like to extend a special thank you to Disney for the scholarship funds that made my trip to BlogHer possible.

Um, what’s this I hear about BlogHer being in my hometown next year? New York City? Aw, now you know it’s gonna go down!

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On The MBB Stoop

Here’s To Hoping It Won’t Matter To My Babies (and Their Friends) If They’re Black or White

16 Comments 01 July 2009

by JENNIFER JOHNSON

I wasn’t ever the prettiest girl in school. In fact—I was never even close. But that didn’t stop me from being one of the most outgoing girls in my class. I was a cheerleader, in the band, class president. I signed up for and tried out for nearly every club imaginable. But the fact of the matter was that the deep south, where racism is still fresh and obvious and seering, was not the ideal place for dating.

I remember in high school reading a newspaper article about a school in a town—too close to ours—that was having their first integrated prom. My school wasn’t this far behind the times, but it certainly was a lot like that other town’s school in other ways. People were much more comfortable choosing sides.

Not me, though. My best friend was white; friends from my neighborhood were black. And it wasn’t very common to have close friends of both races (I say both because where I grew up in Georgia there was just black and white—not much of anything else). By the time I started high school, we had moved to a predominantly white neighborhood, which then turned my neighborhood and school demographics into “mostly white.” Overall, it is safe to say most of my friends growing up were white.

When I turned 16 (the magic number in my house to begin dating) I imagined the phones ringing off the hook on the weekend, boys waiting in line to ask me out. But they never called and the dates never came. Instead, I had a lot of “guy friends.” You know, the ones who would hang out with you, and talk to you on the phone, but they’d mostly be plotting ways get hooked up with your friends.

This was the case with one of my best guy friends for quite some time. We were very close. He wanted a girlfriend, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But one day after school, he told me why that wasn’t possible. “Because you’re black,” he told me point blank.

Some of my girlfriends blamed not dating outside of their race on their religion. “It says in the Bible that you should stick to your own race,” they’d argue. But my parents always told me differently. “If that is the case, who are biracial people to marry?” they’d ask. “Only biracial people?”

I didn’t let those experiences drag me down. In fact, they built me up—made me a better, stronger woman. And when I moved away for college, I had the opportunity to date all sorts of men—men who weren’t scared of something different. The man I married—“The One”—happens to be white. And while we don’t share the same skin tone, we do share the same religious beliefs and many of the same cultural experiences. We are in this life together because we are in love and want to be together; what others think about it is really inconsequential to us.

Still, we often find ourselves questioning where we’ll live and raise our children because while I was strong as a single woman, and we have been strong as a couple, we worry—worry that things could be more difficult for our children. I worry especially that my daughters will face the same challenges I faced growing up, but won’t deal with it in the same was as I did, by pushing through it. I was able to brush it off my shoulder, but there are plenty other women who hold grudges, get upset, and turn it into much bigger things. I also worry my sons will have a hard time finding women to date because their parents don’t want their daughters dating “black boys.”

I worry, too, that if my children look biracial, adults will be too complimentary to my children. I don’t want my kids to suffer the “light-skinned complex,” in which they think they’re cuter than most because of the color of their skin and texture of their hair, or they learn to hate it because others are giving them a hard time about it.

I hope as my children grow up they meet other children who are taught to have friends of all races, and date people of all nationalities. Religion, career, personality—those are all things you can choose. You’re born your race.

I don’t want my children to grow up wishing they looked “more like daddy” or like their white friends, and I don’t want them wishing they looked more like me, either. I want them to be proud of who they are, and proud to be whatever color they may turn out to be. Most of all, I hope others around us are accepting and open-minded enough to see my kids and others for more than just the color of their skin. After all, hasn’t our country advanced far enough to where race and color shouldn’t matter? In some places, I think yes.

Growing up in the South gave me thick skin, and confidence in who I am as a person—as an individual. For me, “choosing sides” wasn’t easy. I can only imagine how much more difficult it will be for a biracial child who has one white parent and one black parent.

I can only pray that by then, my babies won’t have to make a choice.

About our MyBrownBaby contributor:
Future mama Jennifer Johnson chronicles her journey toward motherhood on her blog, Baby Makin(g) Machine.

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Thought

A LOVE LETTER TO MY UNBORN CHILD

12 Comments 13 April 2009

By JENNIFER JOHNSON

My dear, sweet first baby,

This is the only letter I’ve written to someone who isn’t even alive yet. I wonder what it’s like for you where you are now. I wonder if you’re getting impatient with me and anxious at the same time to come down to this world. I imagine you may be a little nervous too; it’s a scary place sometimes. But don’t worry—I’ll take good care of you.

I dream about you a lot. Sometimes I picture you as a handsome little baby boy and sometimes I see you as my darling daughter. Maybe it’s you and your siblings I’m dreaming about. You’re all beautiful—beautiful little sprits I’m already in love with. Sometimes the dreams feel so real, I wake up wondering where you are. Those dreams scare me a little, and make me think you’re ready to come down right now. It makes me feel like we’ll be together soon—much sooner than I thought.

I can’t wait to meet you, baby, but let’s not be too hasty—first things first. When your dad and I start trying to get you to come down, don’t get cold feet ok? We’re hoping and praying you’ll be ready when we are and make your debut right away. I have friends who say the first time was was a charm—or even better, they conceived while they were still preventing. I guess their children weren’t taking “no” for an answer. I’m glad you’ve obeyed me so far—we’re getting off to a good start. But I have plenty other friends who tell me it took them awhile—years, even. That seems like such a long time. I’m glad you’ve obeyed me so far and stayed put; we’re getting off to a good start. But when the script flips and I ask for you to come down, please do, okay?

I hope you and my system get along. I don’t get sick a lot, so if while you’re growing inside me I don’t feel too good, don’t worry; I’ll still be just as happy to have you. It may not always seem that way. But I will. Promise. Especially when I can feel you in my stomach. I have friends who are pregnant now, and one mommy-to-be tells me she can feel her baby in her stomach already, at just a few months. She says it feels like tickles. I’ve heard other people say it feels like butterflies. I can’t wait to feel that beautiful feeling.

I hope you understand how big of a life change this will be for me. I thought I’d be much older when I was ready to have you, but lately I’ve been thinking about you all of the time. I think you and I are both ready for you to be here. I’m not saying things are going to be perfect right away… actually they’ll never be perfect. If I’ve learned anything in my 23 years of life, it’s that things don’t always go the way you plan. But I’m a firm believer in the fact that everything happens for a reason. No matter the challenges we face as a family, I promise to love you more than anything.

I’ve heard it said time and again that once a mother holds her baby in her arms, the amount of love that swells in her heart is overwhelming. It’s something I’ve been told I can’t imagine until I experience it. For me, it’s not that hard to believe, actually. Though we haven’t met, I love you already. I know my love for you can only grow, and I’m excited for that. I’m excited to meet you—my first child.

Love,

Your Mommy

About our MyBrownBaby contributor:
Future mama Jennifer Johnson chronicles her journey toward motherhood on her blog, Baby Makin(g) Machine.

Related posts:
She’s Got Love And Marriage—Now What About The Baby Carriage?
Baby Talk At It’s Finest: Oh, The Things They’ll Say!

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On The MBB Stoop

She’s Got Love And Marriage—Now What About The Baby Carriage?

14 Comments 25 February 2009

By JENNIFER JOHNSON

I want kids—always have. And now that I’ve got four years of marriage, a college degree, and a burgeoning career under my belt, I’m feeling like my time is now.

Problem is, I’m only 23. And while that’s an age that some would argue is perfect for chasing little ones around, mostly people start ticking off all kinds of reasons why I should wait to have a baby:

“You’re too young!”
“You should enjoy your 20s!”
“You should enjoy your husband!”
“You should focus on your career while you’re young!”

Trust me, it’s something I keep going back and forth with myself. Part of me thinks, “There’s no time like the present!” And then the other part of me replies, “Yeah, but imagine what you could do with five more years!”

I guess I should wait for my husband to finish school before we take the plunge into parenthood. Waiting another two years wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?

But some days, it feels like an eternity. Of course, it doesn’t help that everyone around me is pregnant. Actually, it’s beginning to get annoying. Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy for my friends, but I’m getting tired of splurging on all of their baby showers when deep down, I wish someone was throwing me one.

Well, kinda.

Want to know a secret? I think I’m afraid of the permanency of it. Once I have a child, I can never go back to not having a child. I will always be a mother. Sure, kids grow up and move out. But there’s still college I’ll be worrying about, then of course weddings, and then grandchildren. It’ll be a never-ending cycle.

I’m not going to let this fear stop me—this is what life is all about, right?
The milestones, the worries, the joys, the fears. This is what life is made of. You’ve just got to dive in it.

As much as I’d love to join the mother club, I’m standing on the diving board, staring down at the water—anxious to take the plunge, but scared to hit the water. Some days, I think it would be so much easier if my birth control failed—just like a surprise, ya know? At least that way I’d know it was God’s plan.

Fat chance of that happening, though.

So for now, while I’m straddling the line, I’ll try to use my time wisely. I’m keeping a list of things I want to do before I have kids—like taking the GRE, learning Yoga, and feeling comfortable in the kitchen (for me, cooking = death!). I’m also studying as much as I can about motherhood and pregnancy. I know I’ll never be completely prepared, no matter how many books I read or how many moms I talk to, but I’m thinking it can’t hurt. And just for kicks, I’m writing lists, like, “The Things I’ll NEVER Say To My Kids,” which I imagine will be fun to look back and laugh at when those same words I’ve sworn off eventually tumble from my lips.

As a black woman I’m also thinking a lot about the things my children will experience growing up. I imagine their lives will be a lot different than the one I lived growing up in the still racially-divided South. On top of that, being in a biracial marriage brings up a whole ‘nother set of considerations about what I want to teach my children and the kind of life I want to make for them.

Most importantly, in my quest toward motherhood, I’ve been picking the brains of other wonderful women already in the trenches—women who give me the good, the bad, and the ugly about motherhood. Recently, I even connected with a woman who has a child with disabilities—and her experience made me think even harder about the struggles of motherhood.

And the beauty of it, too.

A beautiful struggle.

One of these days, it’ll be mine, too.

About our MyBrownBaby contributor
Future mama Jennifer Johnson chronicles her journey toward motherhood on her blog, Baby Makin(g) Machine.

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