by Beth Stephens, The Little Magpie

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has. ~ Margaret Mead

From the very first time I visited the Arkansas Women Bloggers site in 2010, I knew there was something special about this little community, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what made it stand out specifically. Yes, it was a pretty and well laid-out site (back then on Blogger!). Yes, it had some nice visuals and content that I enjoyed. Yes, the word on the street about the gals behind the site was that when they held a meet-up, it exuded warmth and openness. However, you could say all of those things about dozens of other blogger communities all over the U.S.

So, as I’ve often shared, in typical Beth-fashion I sent them a note with a harebrained idea for a blog conference – something low key and a little bit different from all the big conferences. Back then, Fawn of Instead of the Dishes was part of the leadership team, and she is still an ex officio member despite deserting Arkansas for Missouri. She drew the short straw and got stuck picking up the phone to call me, and the rest is history. Now, the third annual AWBU (Arkansas Women Bloggers Unplugged) conference is upon us, and it has developed a delightful cult-like following. (You’ve registered, right? The early bird registration rate ends in 2 days!!)

The point of all that is this: the women of Arkansas Women Bloggers are very different, and that same vibe is spreading across the mid-south as our missionaries spread and take the goodness to other states where it continues to grow (case in point: Oklahoma Women Bloggers, oh and Kansas, Texas, and soon Alabama and Mississippi). I think that all boils down to a clear mission, unwavering focus on the path chosen and doing the right thing, knowing that it always pays off. I think there is another common trait in the really good bloggers:

A certain entrepreneurial spirit, a story they feel obligated from their bones to share, a knack for making deep
and sincere connections with others and a little bit of scrappiness.

As it so happens, the qualities above (mission, focus, doing the right thing) all make up one of our very own Arkansas bloggers, Jenny Marrs. I’ve already dedicated ample blog space to listing all the reasons I adore her personally and telling you about her adoption journey, and many of you may have already grown fond of her yourselves when you met her after she led a photography workshop at last year’s AWBU conference at the Ozark Folk Center. She and her family are on a mission to bring their little girl home, they are unwavering in their focus, and along the way I can assure you they always do the right thing.

As a result, not one but two amazing organizations have approached their family with some incredible opportunities. Give1Save1 is featuring their adoption journey and an amazing video as part of a fundraiser all this week, and Arkansas-grown Pure Charity is using their story to launch an adoption fundraising feature of their website this week at the Summit 9 adoption conference.

In summary: Two national organizations dedicated to adoption and philanthropy. A national conference paying heed to a story linking Bentonville, Arkansas and Africa. Thousands of future U.S. families and orphans from developing nations who will be positively affected and who will ultimately become connected as families thanks to the fundraising and awareness tools provided by these two visionary organizations.

That, dear readers, is the power of bloggers. It’s the power, in my opinion, of Arkansas Women Bloggers. It’s the kind of amazing, can’t-possibly-be-true stories that literally happen all the time because of the deep and lasting impact of the relationships developed when a solitary blogger in Arkansas (like The Park Wife) decides to build a community (like Arkansas Women Bloggers) with a focused mission and a commitment to doing the right thing (Gather, Grow, Connect), and when that community grows into a passionate group of bloggers who have those common traits mentioned above:

A certain entrepreneurial spirit, a story they feel obligated from their bones to share, a knack for making deep and sincere connections with others and a little bit of scrappiness.

Thank you for being part of our community and for always being the ones who lift others up.

~ Beth (The Little Magpie)

Want to learn more?

Read more of the story and a few reasons we heart this family: We Only Have What We Give

Visit the Give1Save1 site to see their heartwarming video (you will want to see this!)

See the new adoption portal and learn more about Pure Charity on the Marrs Family page:

Visit Jenny’s blog for more of their story: Blessings And Raindrops

Written by Jasmine Banks of The Brokins

My grandma used to sit on her covered front porch and smoke Black & Mild cigarillos and drink Crown Royal. Her love for Canadian whiskey was only slightly overshadowed by her love of story telling. She would sit in an old metal chair with a vinyl cushion with her right leg crossed over the the left at the ankles. Her legs were shiny with oil  and sweat, this Black woman never forgot to rub herself down with almond oil a day in her life. She always donned a house dress. The house dress was always of the Kmart variety. The lapel of her dress, as I vividly remember it, was a purple quilted pattern that was worn from years of use. The front of the dress had huge pockets where she kept her lighter and cigarillos and whatever other flotsam that was required to be on her person. I would sit next to her as she lit her cigar and told stories. She’d pause here and there to slowly sip her whisky and just stare off into space, as if she was replaying the events in her memories before releasing them into the air. She would open her mouth to speak and the words would whip around the air like a smooth riff from a Coltrane song mixed with salt and grit. She was a poet to me. She was a poet, and artist, and a sage. She was, and is, my Grandma Annie Pearl. Not Grandma Annie, Grandma Pearl, or Grandma! The full “Grandma Annie Pearl” is required to fully incapsulate the haughty and noble woman, though I dare say you cannot bottle her kind. Her kind are the kind that we remember when we taste food, when we smell a certain smell, or when we remember what plastic on the couch feels like. That clingy slippery feeling that made your lower back sweat and created the continual slide forward off the couch is an annoying experience that when coupled with Grandma Annie Pearl becomes a sweet wistful memory and a smile.  Her kind are the kind that we  remember when they are gone. They are more than loved ones who left us or we might fondly recal, no they are identity markers. We have drank them into ourselves. We have consumed the stories that continue to nourish our very souls even after the words can no longer be spoken.

The power to write, to blog, to journal, and to reflect are the sacred powers to create worlds. We build worlds and identities on the internet while our predecessors built worlds while sipping whisky on the front porch, around a campfire, or while driving in that one old rickety truck you remember. My Grandma Annie Pearl told her stories in such a way that I yearned to live in the moment she described. I wanted to BE there when “so and so had her baby and sure as day that baby came out white. Ain’t nobody in that room say a word, till the midwife say, his color will come in! E’rybody exhaled and started laughin’ cuz didn’t nobody want to say that child was white first!”  Saying you are a blogger can easily be a way to excuse yourself from responsibility, “I am a blogger! NOT a writer!”  The truth is: bloggers and writers are both storytellers.

Maybe I am just a romantic?  Maybe it is the nostalgia of being raised by such a dynamic storyteller? Either way, I want to challenge you in this

Live a life that is worth being told stories about. As I said at the Arkansas Women Blogger’s Conference: In order to have a life well said, you must experience a life well lived.  This requires unplugging from the phone and laptop, getting your hands dirty, and experiencing your world. It means building relationships worth talking about. It means figuring out why that one thing bothers you so deeply. The power of a story is, at its most fundamental level, about the power of reflection.  Lets get back to living good lives, telling good stories, and building worlds with our worlds that people want to live in because we’ve lived in them first.