Allison Brown

At the end of the day, I owe it all to my mom for taking me to the midnight releases of my favorite books as a kid.

A former boss once told me I wasn't spending enough time schmoozing leadership, and that I should be more worried about building my "personal brand" in my communications career.

It was intended as advice, but it gave me such ick that it inspired me in the opposite direction. Sorry, but I simply won't be using that as a metric to dehumanize myself further in our digital age.

I don't know if you relate, but I've spent enough precious time worrying what I'm worth to other people. Is my body wrong? Are my clothes weird? Am I too loud? How can I fit into the ever-shrinking box that makes me digestible as one of the few women in the room?

Instead of shoving one another trying to reach the moving goalpost of polite acceptability, what if we reached toward one another?

It's not always pretty or polished, but love for my fellow human moves me to run toward the emergency, always has. I've used my voice to talk others down from both metaphorical and actual, physical ledges.

Without care and humanity, I don't believe effective communication exists. At the end of the day, brands don't do that. People do.

So thanks, but I'll continue to treat myself like I'm a feeling, flesh-and-bone human. I'll treat others the same.

I am not merchandise to be consumed. Neither are you. Now, let's go outside.

Be open to connections with women who inspire you.**

They don't need to be in your field. They don't have to be close to you in age, location, or stage of life. They don't need to look like you, make XX amount of money, or win fancy awards to have friendship or wisdom for you.

Finding inspiration and mentorship can happen anywhere. If someone is doing something you admire, invite them to coffee or send a warm message. Ask about their music taste and niche interests. Recommend a book. Compliment their shoes. Invite them to walk around the neighborhood during lunch or after work.

If the conversation is with me, you're walking away with at least one recommendation for a great read, musical, and/or happy hour deal at the local sandwich shop.

**Read: All the women. Protect the dolls.

Fostering authentic communities poses both challenges and incredible opportunities for communicators today.

We're suffering from misinformation overload: 24-hour newscycles, doomscrolling, inflammatory algorithms stuffed with AI slop... It's a manmade waterfall of addictive, largely unimportant notifications.

This leaves us with a choice: lean into our technical isolation, or reassess our priorities. How little friction are we truly aiming for in our lives?

Technology gives us essential ways to connect, learn, and ease some of life's biggest inconveniences. But it can't smooth away our curiosity, critical thinking, or our inherent need for real connection with others. We can't shy away from uncomfortable conversations or topics just because you put a (totally hypothetical example) cake decorating video in front of our faces.

We crave human-centered stories and trustworthy, impactful research about real-world problems. I'm not talking followers or social media (tell me you haven't longed to ditch the many screens and go analog lately). I'm talking genuine bonds with the people in our lives and areas of interest.

I'm talking about having the freedom to do things the long, effort-intensive, from-scratch way where it matters.

None of the following should be a notable opinion:

If we aren't considering and supporting those most at risk of harm or abuse, we aren't building equitable communities.

Having lived with, served, studied, loved, and seen myself as a grateful part of a kaleidoscope of vulnerable groups for so many years, I hold cultural humility and a life of curiosity in high value.

This includes actively seeking education about those different from ourselves, even if understanding our history more thoroughly makes us uncomfortable. Especially if it does.

Growth isn't uncomfortable, but as long as I'm here, I intend to keep at it.