Thoughts on BlogHer 08
August 6th, 2008I’ve been super reluctant to post about our recent San Francisco trip and the BlogHer 08 conference. Writing about a women’s conference is so laden with explosives that even with my HAZMAT training, I’ve been worried about touching a nerve or saying something that would be misconstrued as chauvinistic or misogynistic. But I really feel like a male perspective adds to the conversation about the difference in how the genders process things.
As my life has become more public, I haven’t regretted or resented what it means. I do not regard myself as famous. But some do. And when those some get concentrated together, reality seems to warp. The energy changes and things that I would never give more than .05 of a second thought, become front and center and the resulting processing grinds me to a halt. Especially socially. I’m not whining. I have a hard time processing the level that people are fans of my wife. The intensity of emotion directed toward Heather is astounding. On both good and bad sides. Being with her at BlogHer was a huge eye opener for me in terms of admiration that people have as well as the level at which they dislike Heather. I understand what happens when someone becomes famous, regardless of scale. Local bands, popular politicians, actors, musicians, et al are all subject to these same kinds of emotions. Humans react in strange, paradoxical ways when other humans gain attention. I’ve been a part of that on a much much smaller scale than Heather. Much smaller. But the dynamics are the same. Press, fans, detractors and outsiders all weigh in. It can be hard to navigate. I still have a huge admiration for how Heather has handled the attention from all corners and how she continues to be creative, every single day. Her strength has been and is inspirational to me. I simply don’t know how she does it in the grinder. But she does it. Well.
We had a lot of things on our to do list for our trip to San Francisco, and I still feel badly that we couldn’t see and do everything we wanted. We had some appointments and business to attend to. We tried to see as many friends as we could. There are so many friends in San Francisco that we really could stay there for a few weeks and still not see everybody like we’d hope.
In that framework of familiarity and bittersweet scheduling, we set out for the conference. We had hoped to sneak in the back of a few sessions and sneak back out, so Heather could enjoy the conference from an attendees perspective and so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed before her session. We had hoped to make it to more sessions but Im afraid I’m to blame for that.
On the Friday morning (opening day of the conference), I got a call from my Mom that her sister had died the previous night. This sister was my mother’s last surviving sibling. This past holiday season, this same aunt lost her husband. He was in his late 80s and had been very ill, so his death, while difficult, was not a total surprise. Of my extended family, this particular uncle and aunt have been the closest to us over the years. We spent a lot of Thanksgiving days together and their grandchildren were in the same age range as me and my younger sister. For several years, we would spend extended stays during the summer at each others houses. We’d go swimming, play in the park and play heated games of Sorry! and Clue and Pit. I looked forward to seeing my second cousins (cousins once removed? children of my cousin?) every summer and every holiday season. Just about every time we drove to Salt Lake City, we’d stop in and say hello and my mom would get her cold Tab fix from my aunt.
Losing my uncle brought into sharp relief my own mortality and that of my family. I worried for my aunt, who was older, losing her sight and had been married to my uncle for 67 years. I was worried for my mom, who is no spring chicken. It’s hard to see people who were so vital in my youth get older. My aunt took her husband’s passing as well as could be expected. Her surviving family stepped in and helped a great deal. My mom spent a few days a week with her sister over the past seven months watching movies, shopping and spending time together. I’m so glad they had that time together now that my aunt is gone.
I offered to come home from San Francisco that day, but my Mom said the funeral would be on the following Tuesday. I would be able to stay and support Heather through the press appointments, meetings, parties and the conference.
I spent the rest of that Friday in a haze of random recall. The cookie drawer. My aunt had metal, 1950s cabinetry well into the late 70s. In a very child-accessible drawer was an assortment of cookies. We were always invited to have a cookie when we visited. Her chocolate chip cookie recipe is amazing. Music. She taught music for years and was very involved with music teaching in Utah. She influenced a lot of people through her music, including me. She played beautifully. Sweetness. My mom’s family represented a broad range of personality: salty to sweet. My aunt was the sweetest and most kind of them all. Design. My aunt had teak furniture. Their dining set was mid-century modern and lovely. They had a teak sidebar and buffet as well. Their house was always so full of nice things…
If I saw you or spoke with you on that Friday, please forgive me being weird if I seemed so. Being “on” in the middle of a personal tragedy demands something deep within that I have yet to discover inside myself. In a way, though, this tragedy underscored the intensity of being around so many diverse and interesting women.
One of the hardest things for me to pinpoint is why this conference was so different from others we’ve attended. It’s not just that it is a women’s conference, or that women are the main attendees. It goes deeper than that. I believe that it touches on how women process things. How women interact. How women socialize (and likely, are socialized). There is an internal nature to women that was much closer to the surface than I have ever experienced. Projections, disappointments, boundaries. All of it. Right on the surface. It’s strange to feel so much support along with so much of something else that you can’t define. Plus, given that 99% of the people around you have publishing outlets… it can get a little strange.
Amongst the strangest things of that weekend was saying or doing something and knowing that we’d be under a scrutiny unlike other conferences. BlogHer represents the core of Heather’s audience; the core of women self-publishing and the core of a rising voice of women. However, it also represents the paradox around putting oneself out there. Heather gets recognized now and then, and we’ve been in interesting circumstances where someone will approach and introduce themselves. I enjoy meeting people and this is always a chance to meet people who are readers and supporters. That part of the conference was spectacular. It felt like there were far more bloggers around than at South by Southwest. Even still, wondering if anybody would recognize us and determine that we were horrible people because of how we spoke or seemed. Some argue that “this is your business” and I can see that. What isn’t our business is controlling how people read vocal inflections, conversations and body language. Everything at BlogHer is on display. It was exhausting to consider. I stopped considering that every comma, every breathe could potentially win a new fan or cause somebody to feel like they were treated poorly. I know one person who handles this kind of thing well. Heather. She’s amazing and was gracious and lovely to every single person who approached her.
Which makes reading the recaps of the conference so strange. How can so many people who were there see something so different? How does Heather turning away to look at me or say hello to someone else constitute an affront? Especially in a conference setting? This has never happened at South by Southwest, but seems to always follow Heather to BlogHer. I don’t think this is a “dooce®” phenomenon. This is a feminine phenomenon.
Stephanie Klein, whom Heather shared a stage with, wrote that being at BlogHer is like “a constant, 3-day, pledge class” and I think that sums it up very well:
It’s really like walking around a constant, 3-day, pledge class, wondering when you’ll finally be able to fully relax and be inducted into the sorority of women. It’s scary in a way that shouldn’t be. I hear way too many people mention “private parties” with apologies. “Oh, are you going to the Nintendo dinner?” she whispers. No. I wasn’t invited. “What about the private party at the suite upstairs by this sponsor? Oh, did you go to the sponsored private cocktail…” Since when did blogging become so elitist? It really is just another way, ironically enough, to feel rejected.
Until, that is, you aren’t. Until those moments where you connect immediately to someone you’ve read before. To someone who just gets it, with whom you share all the unspokens. And then it all changes. Your outlook, your enjoyment, and what you get out of it all. What I was reminded of most at my first BlogHer experience, at the most basic level, is what it’s like to go about making brand new friends, without relying on insincerity, or flattery, without bonding over mean girl moments. How fragile all of us can be, how nervous, how eager we are to be liked. And how ridiculously satisfying it is to connect with strangers who are now suddenly so much more.
The thing that most gets in my craw about reading the reactions from attendees is that people don’t seem to understand that Heather has helped you in some way. If you blog, Heather has helped you. She’s made it easier for you to accept advertising and easier for you to make money self-publishing online. Heather has helped move blogging into the mainstream. Even if you disagree with that and publish those thoughts, Heather has helped you. Heather is a lightning rod. And you benefit, even if the story is negative, you still benefit, because the mention of what you do just got added again to the greater dialogue. You don’t have to like or agree with Heather, but I was with her 98% of the time she was at BlogHer and she never once said or did anything untoward. Never once.
Which makes the conversation during her session and the resulting posts surreal. I was there. I didn’t feel any drama. I didn’t feel anything other than admiration from and for this roomful of women doing amazing things with their talent. Is it weird to have people say things about you like you aren’t a real person (whether those things were said with good intent or not)? It is. And sometimes it’s weirder than others. I don’t see how responding to that question by using a recent example of a popular blogger (and one who used threatening language) and then having that blogger stand up and say she’s drunk and then declining to respond to said blogger because who engages a drunk person in front of a thousand people? How is that in any way anything other than sheer professionalism? And trying to keep the panel moving forward? How is that in any way a bad thing? Or dramatic?
You should know that a couple of hours before Heather took the stage, she was made aware of threats of physical violence to both of us. Heather could have bowed out. She could have decided it wasn’t worth the risk. She didn’t. She went on with it. I would have supported her regardless of her choice. But under all of it, she sat up there and was a complete pro.
It’s only dramatic if we make it so. I haven’t written about this strangeness until now because I didn’t want to contribute to the making of anything other than, “Wow, my wife is fucking amazing in front of people; that she had the presence of mind to handle a potentially volatile situation with extreme professionalism says so much about who she is.”
Of course people are going to make something of nothing. It’s fun. The technology enables it. Whatever. What would you do if you were the subject of a mildly confrontational blog post and then later in an extremely awkward way in front of a thousand people by that someone who made the original blog post and was someone you didn’t know?
Heather could have evacuated the conference following her panel. She did not. She stayed and said hello to every person who wanted to speak to her. Every person. Including the person who created the awkwardness on her personal site and in the session. Heather was nothing but kind and gracious. But some attendees didn’t see it that way. And they are entitled to their viewpoints. I question their grasp on reality, but that’s my thing and I’ll own that.
Finally, BlogHer feels like a really unruly gathering in the way the first Woodstock might have felt to a music fan. There are moments of brilliance and historic weight combined with lesser pleasantries. To the credit of BlogHer, the restroom facilities seemed to be working just fine and no one had to be worried about the brown acid.
EPILOGUE: Heather doesn’t know that I’m writing this. I think it’s important to mention that she’ll be reading this for the first time, just like you. I’m going to open comments. Maybe I’m a masochist. Maybe I’m trying to understand women better. I’m married to an incredible woman. It needs to be said. o
August 7th, 2008 at 12:39 pm
So, I was there, and in all honesty, I didn’t even REALIZE that this was drama or dramatic or whatever until I got back home after the conference and started reading about “it.” I read Dooce, I read the Bloggess, I don’t know either personally, and just, yeah, wtf people??
And I can appreciate from Heather’s perspective how difficult it might be to exist in any frame of “normal” in such an environment. I was in a panel that she did sneak into, and as soon as people realized she was there I could feel the energy shift.
This in no way says anything against Heather, because I don’t get the impression that she would be anything but gracious and kind if I wanted to introduce myself, but I saw you guys at the conference a couple of times and never did, simply because I didn’t want to add to the chaos. I’ve always felt like if I was in that situation, I would crave normalcy.
Great post Jon.
August 7th, 2008 at 1:01 pm
Now that I reread Jenny’s post, it is, in fact, all about how Heather has been elevated beyond the realm of “normal,” whether she likes it or not. I think The Bloggess may understand Dooce better than you give her credit for or even realize.
And because I hate nothing more than mystery, here is the original post by The Bloggess:
http://thebloggess.com/?p=598
Judge for yourself. Jon, I think you would agree that your readers deserve to understand the story.
And yes, indeed, she does say that it will be ugly. Please pay close attention to that part and feel the wrath of The Bloggess.
August 7th, 2008 at 1:03 pm
Jon, I’m sorry about the loss of your aunt, especially at a time when you were “on” and in public. I can only imagine the difficulty of that time.
I read your post last night and didn’t comment because I was just as confused then as when I read about it after the conference (which I didn’t attend), with all the conflicting voices and opinions and recounts.
While I can understand your hesitancy in writing this, I’m really glad that you did because I think it offered all of us (participants and observers/readers alike) a chance to close out the whole matter. At least I hope it did, because all involved had their say, in one place, and so long as they’re comfortable with it, everyone else can let it go.
I can only hope that someday I’ll have someone love me enough to step out on limbs like that for me and show the world what that kind of love is like.
August 7th, 2008 at 1:09 pm
Thanks to Heather and Jenny for coming in on the discussion. I didn’t get to go to BlogHer this year - in fact, have never been - but continue to want to go. (Maybe I’ll get to go to the outreach in Nashville in November.) Sometimes, the negativity the erupts in the blogosphere after each conference can be a deterrent, but I always remind myself of the same point - you have GOT to take responsibility for your own experience. If you didn’t enjoy yourself, look at what YOU could have done differently, not other people. You can’t expect to go to an event attended by more than 1,000 people and expect to have your own every whim personally catered to, it just doesn’t work that way.
I’ve read this idea somewhere else, and agree that maybe this kind of thing could be a topic at a future BlogHer event - what happens when the Blogosphere and real life connect.
August 7th, 2008 at 1:10 pm
As others have mentioned, I am sorry for your family in losing your aunt. I think losing loved ones, especially after having children of your own, truly heightens your awareness of your own mortality and the speed of life. My condolences.
I was at BlogHer. I wasn’t at the keynote. I most certainly heard many versions, but frankly wasn’t that interested. Jenny is a friend and Heather is someone I don’t know and the “event” wasn’t going to impact me personally.
I did see the two of you here and there throughout the conference–and was in one session where you had sneaked in the back and then got to correct someone saying that Heather doesn’t appear at the breakouts (funny stuff)–and each time I saw the two of you I couldn’t get past how awkward it must be to be that well-known. Honestly, I imagine it makes it hard to develop real relationships with people when you are being pulled in so many directions and feeling like you need to keep your guard up (necessarily).
What I love about blogging is the community I have become a part of. As a trailblazers in this space, I wonder if you all get to enjoy that any more or if there is room for your community to expand. I don’t envy your position.
I do hope that you understand that for those of us who are not well-known BlogHer is strange and weird but also a wonderful opportunity to see people we adore from afar the rest of the year. Per your post and some ensuing comments, it sounds like it might not be the place for bloggers who have become “famous” and that’s too bad. All attendees benefit by the variety of experiences that are brought together at a conference.
Maybe folks could remember that we are all just people who write online and that makes no one a better human than another.
I know. Wishful thinking.
August 7th, 2008 at 1:26 pm
I didn’t attend BlogHer, but I think this is a fabulous post about it. It’s interesting to hear the male perspective, perhaps because it isn’t doused with estrogen or hairspray. Additionally, it is both strange and harrowing that people can spew hatred and/or violent thoughts toward anyone, let alone people they do not even know or just think they know via the internet. That said, I would have loved to have met the two of you, and I’m sorry for your loss.
August 7th, 2008 at 1:35 pm
I’m left here thinking (1) that just as she always does, Heather will rise from the ashes like a phoenix. (2) She is brave for what she goes through for her job. (3) Jon, I am really sorry for your loss. (4) Life is too short for this hating, with all these people ganging up on Heather - she’s human, she’s doing in the best she can, you’re probably jealous. Get over yourselves, please. (5) Peace.
August 7th, 2008 at 1:47 pm
I’m so sorry about your Aunt, Jon. I’m now thinking back to that Friday evening of the conference, when both you and Heather were at the Mighty Mighty Media party smiling and shaking hands and posing for photos-that must have taken so much emotional effort on your part, it just blows my mind. I came to the party invited by Maggie and told ‘bring your friends’, and one of them was afraid to approach Heather. I said ‘no, come on, we’ll just go up and say hi’, and we did. And Heather was amazing! She was gracious and charming, even posing for a funny photo with me after I made a comment about how she was literally a foot taller than me in her heels. I later saw on Flickr just how many photos she posed for, big beautiful smile on her face in every one of them. Speaking for myself, I appreciated that moment I had, where I felt like the separation was not so great, that we were just a bunch of bloggers having a good time at a party, not worrying about who was the “A” list or whatever (which, ugh, I hate that term).
I also snapped a photo of the side of your face, I never made it through the crowd to introduce myself, but next year if the two of you are at BlogHer ‘09, I’ll do my best to say hello. What you wrote about Heather opening doors for other women bloggers, I’ve never really thought about it, but I see now what you mean. We don’t know what goes on “behind the scenes”, we have no idea how many meetings, phone calls and emails it has taken for Heather to get where she is today, how many people have tried to take advantage of her, and for God’s sake, we have no idea what it’s like to hear about threats of physical violence. And for what? Because Heather writes a blog that has more readers than some daily newspapers?
I have been reading Heather’s blog for 3 years and have been through the Archives, and never once have I read “oh, I’m such a big deal, I’m so great, I’m better than all of you”. Because I have to assume that she doesn’t think that! I would be willing to bet that Heather is grateful for everything she has and for every person that reads her blog. If she was snobby and mean about it, that would be one thing. I mean geez, she could have hired a team of personal security to stand in between the stage at BlogHer and the tables, and I wouldn’t have been surprised. I’ve had the misfortune to see the “Hating Dooce” type sites, and they make me sick. I can only imagine what Heather deals with in her email inbox on a daily basis.
Please let Heather know that it was truly a pleasure to meet her, that I am and will continue to be a fan and a supporter of hers, and yours, and Leta’s, and Coco’s, and Chuck’s. Thank you for this post and for the opportunity to leave this comment, too.
August 7th, 2008 at 1:52 pm
For the record, I met Heather and Jon and they were gracious and lovely and didn’t let me simply ring and run my “thank you for writing,” but insisted I stay and chat a bit. Now if that’s not acting unfamous and human and real, well….
August 7th, 2008 at 1:55 pm
I shared the following publicly, but not directly with you, Jon. So, in all fairness and for the sake of context:
“Final-ish word: My bringing this to your attention is about responsibly wielding power and keeping references in context. Ya dig?”
Megan (because you deserve a real name, huh?)
August 7th, 2008 at 1:56 pm
When I started reading the comments, my stomach started to hurt like when I was in high school and i thought the pretty cheerleader was getting ready to kick my butt. But now that everyone has responded and cleared the air, I feel like an adult again.
Jon and Heather, thank you for everything of you that you give to us.
August 7th, 2008 at 2:05 pm
Jon,
First, my sympathies for your families loss.
I didn’t attend BlogHer, but I read your site & Heather’s daily.
I heard recently , “We will forgive anything in this society but success.”
Mel
August 7th, 2008 at 2:07 pm
“I believe that it touches on how women process things. How women interact. How women socialize (and likely, are socialized). There is an internal nature to women that was much closer to the surface than I have ever experienced. Projections, disappointments, boundaries. All of it. Right on the surface.”
I get what you’re trying to do here, but I have to ask you to reconsider and rethink statements like this. Several commenters have mentioned their annoyance with this kind of thing (and why DID you tag this with feminism, exactly?) and I’d just like to throw in a link to a cartoon that sums up why generalizing women this way is so irksome: http://www.xkcd.com/385/
With that being said, I thought this was a great post and helps contextualize a lot of the day-to-day stuff you and Heather put out there. That kind of meta-insight is fascinating, to say the least.
August 7th, 2008 at 2:17 pm
@Amber, I tagged it feminism because I was writing about a women’s conference. Women. Feminine. I was not trying to generalize women, but report on what I saw and felt. Women process things differently than men. I want that not to be true. But holy shit did I see it in abundance at BlogHer. That’s not a dis on the conference. That’s just how I saw it. Why do I suddenly feel like Camille Paglia? Joke. Joke, people.
August 7th, 2008 at 2:28 pm
I keep thinking my excitement, fascination and optimism for this medium will run out *any* minute, but it doesn’t. Blogging is the wackiest improv skit, the deepest conversation, the most sublime and most discordant jazz riff.
If I could speed up its evolution just a little, I would get us all a bit faster to the place where both bloggers and readers can separate the blog from the blogger in a healthy way. I love Dooce. I feel like I know Dooce. Heather Armstrong? I’d love to get to know her, but I wouldn’t begin to presume. On the flip side, it’s sanity-saving for me as a blogger and a writer to not identify completely with my public persona, but to see it as a beloved outfit I throw over the back of a chair at the end of the day. That’s not inauthenticity, that’s self-preservation.
It seems like you and Heather are continually learning to separate from the public identity that is Dooce, and I can only imagine that is a weird, transitional zone to pass through. And the bitch of it is, there isn’t really anyone to hand you a map. We’re watching you to see where the steps and missteps are. Absolutely, thanks are in order.
Love Dooce. Love Bloggess. Have it on good authority that both Heather and Jenny are amazing, funny and tender-hearted women. Hope to find out someday.
So sorry for the loss of kin. Grief never seems to come at a convenient time.
August 7th, 2008 at 2:30 pm
First, I’m sorry for your loss.
Second, this kind of bullshit is the exact reason why we women are our own worst enemy. It’s bad enough that there are wolves at every door, we have to cannibalize our own, as well. And things get blown out of proportion and crazy and hurtful and blech.
Just blech.
Touching post. I think it’s awesome how the two of you support each other.
August 7th, 2008 at 2:36 pm
You know, as vexatious as some comments have been, I wish I’d just gone and posted FIRST!
August 7th, 2008 at 2:46 pm
yr both pretty darn amazing folks. I think yr lucky to have her and vice versa. I agree that Heather has paved the way/with golden words and real life motherhood. I am always amazed. I think you guys are doing a great job at this massive life.
cheers.
August 7th, 2008 at 2:52 pm
Sorry for your family’s loss. It must have been incredibly difficult to deal with that while being with Heather at the conference.
I’m a blogger, but haven’t ever attended a BlogHer conference.
It’s an odd sort of thing, feeling like you “know” someone who is famous, whether it be a blogger, athlete, actor, etc. You admire the person and somehow delude yourself into thinking, “Hey, maybe Derek Jeter would like to be friends with me.” It’s not that Jeter doesn’t need friends. It’s just that (a) he already has friends, presumably and (b) he has millions of fans who probably feel the same way and there’s only 24 hours in a day.
I’m presuming, on a somewhat lesser scale, that that’s what it’s like for Heather’s readers. (But you already know that.)
August 7th, 2008 at 2:57 pm
I’m a big fan of Dooce and you, Jon. Your admiration and love for Heather are very evident in this post.
August 7th, 2008 at 3:07 pm
WARNING: CONTAINS GENERALIZATIONS
I find it curious that most have agreed/acknowledged that large groups of women can be catty etc. other than a couple who think that men are worse. I have thought about going to BlogHer, but can’t really justify the expense, but this year’s “drama” wouldn’t stop me. As a guy who works in a complex staffed by 90% women, my experience is that the two sexes are as prone to gossip as one another, but women tend to be cattier (for lack of a better word) and hold grudges longer. My office is one of the testosterone refuges in a female-dominated building, and we’ve angrily told each other (and meant it) to “fuck off you asshole” and gone for lunch an hour later. I venture to say not many women I know could do the same.
Regardless, each of us is their own person, and must be regarded and treated as so. If you don’t have the respect to deal with individuals, then why judge them? As for the haters, I agree it’s a jealousy thing. To think that someone else has “more success” doing what you think you do, perhaps as well or better, doesn’t sit well with some, but that’s their issue and should not be projected onto others.
And Jon, you get nowhere near the credit I think you deserve (other than from Heather).
August 7th, 2008 at 3:20 pm
wow.
after one little search i couldn’t believe all the awful things people write about other people anonymously - as if that makes it okay. and that’s just unfortunate - thank you for continuing to write in spite of all of those horrible things, there are many people who truly appreciate it.
August 7th, 2008 at 3:20 pm
Blurbodoocery 4 life.
August 7th, 2008 at 3:33 pm
I was at BlogHer. In fact, I was one of the dorks running around with a microphone to field questions from the audience during the closing keynote.
I didn’t feel that there was hatefulness in that session, I would describe it more as…AWKWARD.
The exchange between Jenny and Heather had absolutely zero, zip, nada to do with me. The other mic wrangler was even holding the mic for Jenny, but because I was dead center in the ballroom and the only one standing up, the awkwardness felt so thick and tense it was much like one of those god-awful nightmares you have in junior high where you are suddenly standing naked in front of the whole school.
If that was how it was making ME feel I can only imagine what it was like for Jenny and Heather. I felt really bad for them because it was a huge misunderstanding as far as I could tell.
I also thought it was something that the two of them would absolutely discuss and work out between them and I am sorry it has turned into a legendary brouhaha.
I love Jenny, I admire Heather and I am damn glad that I am on Velveteen Mind’s good side. (Grin.)
My condolences on the passing of your aunt.
August 7th, 2008 at 3:34 pm
I’m curious how many times someone has to apologize before the other party lets it go?
Since you’re married to her, I fully expect you to admire and worship Heather and generally blow sunshine up her skirt. But the context of this way off. You are portraying Jenny’s post incorrectly, which just proves your own words about perspective.
Anyone who reads Jenny, The Bloggess and understands her style of writing can read that post and know it was meant to be flattering in a humorous way. It was a joke poking fun at the height your wife has been elevated to.
Why can’t everyone just get over it and let it go? Gesh.