Yes, Black Professional Conferences Are Deeply Personal And Important, Now More Than Ever

Forbes

5 days ago

A few years ago, I found myself in a hotel ballroom in Chicago, surrounded by hundreds of sharply dressed strangers whose name tags read like a directory of Black excellence—founders, media executives, engineers, policymakers. The air buzzed with the sound of deals being made between panels, introductions sparking collaborations, and veteran professionals quietly slipping advice to bright-eyed newcomers.
It was my first Black-focused professional conference as a working journalist, and it felt like stepping into a parallel universe where my ambition was not just understood but actively encouraged. In a media landscape that often feels isolating for women who look like me, this was more than networking—it was oxygen.
Now, it feels like that air supply is being cut due to the vicious, concerted, and strategic attack on DEI, which is directly impacting events dedicated to empower the marginalized.
That's one of the reasons Lauren Wesley Wilson launched her communications and media group ColorComm in 2011.
She was just 25 years old and working in communications in Washington, D.C. At the time, she was one of the few Black women in her professional orbit—and often the only one in the room. What began as a small networking dinner for a handful of peers has since evolved into a powerhouse organization whose executive conference, this year, celebrated its 10th anniversary.
'We've done ten conferences, and where we are now is because we listened,' Wilson says. 'You can't take these spaces for granted. There was a time when women's conferences were everywhere, funded and thriving. Now, you look up and realize—they're not. If you have the chance to be here, make the most of it.'
For Wilson, the milestone is more than a marker of longevity—it's a reminder of why spaces intentionally created for Black women and other women of color in communications are still critical, even as corporate diversity budgets shrink and DEI departments are dissolved.
'We built ColorComm to ensure that women of color had a place to build relationships, access mentorship, and see themselves reflected at the highest levels of leadership,' Wilson tells me. 'That mission is even more urgent now.'
The data backs her up. The average cost to attend a major professional conference ranges from $500 to $2,500 per person—before travel and lodging—and research shows that these expenses disproportionately impact early-career professionals and underrepresented groups, often shutting them out of the very rooms where influence and opportunity are exchanged (Global Conference Network; PMC). It's not cheap to attend a quality conference, but as Wilson points out, the investment is worth it.
'People say it costs too much, but we find money for things we value,' Wilson says. 'If you really want to be here, you will find a way. These environments give you a reset. They motivate you, inspire you, and connect you to opportunities you can't get in isolation.'
This year's conference, for example, was hosted at Miami's Fontainebleau Hotel, a five-star property, for a fraction of the cost it would normally run guests. Luxurious digs aside, the access to community is worth the investment.
'It doesn't add much value if a speaker comes in for 45 minutes and leaves,' she shares. 'We want attendees to be able to build relationships, have conversations, and maybe even do business with them.'
She added: 'We are in a moment where the traditional pipelines to opportunity are being dismantled,' Wilson tells me candidly with her signature straightforward, caring approach. 'If you are relying on corporate America alone to advance your career, you will be left behind. You need a network that is intentional about your success.'
For Wilson, ensuring accessibility isn't just about lowering ticket prices—it's about building year-round ecosystems that connect members to job leads, board seats, and sponsorships long after the conference lights dim.
That same ethos drives Imani Ellis, founder of CultureCon, a newer but equally magnetic gathering for creatives, entrepreneurs, and changemakers.
Launched seven years ago from Ellis's living room, CultureCon has grown into a multi-day festival expected to draw more than 10,000 attendees this year. Like ColorComm, it blends tactical business advice with community-building—only Ellis has positioned hers to speak directly to the next wave of millennial and Gen Z innovators.
'Culture Con is the perfect example of pairing skill with strategy and community,' Ellis says. 'So many people wonder how CultureCon scaled so quickly… it's the power of community.'
This year's conference is joined by presenting sponsor Chase Ink, which Ellis calls a 'values-aligned' partnership designed to offer advanced, behind-the-scenes business guidance.
'We're going beyond, 'How do you start an LLC?'' she explains. 'It's, 'What systems do you need in place? What soft skills do you need as a leader?' Chase Ink powering that Summit is exactly what it looks like when a brand truly invests in our community.'
For Ellis, the goal is to create what she calls a 'brave' space, not just a safe one.
'You should feel brave enough to ask for help, brave enough to be vulnerable,' she says. 'When you see Tracee Ellis Ross on stage talking about her struggles, it does something to you.'
Both leaders agree: in today's climate, Black-focused conferences aren't optional extras—they are infrastructure. They provide not just connection and inspiration, but tangible tools, networks, and strategies for navigating industries where access is often gatekept.
Or, as Wilson puts it:
'It's not just about representation—it's about preparation. We are preparing our people to not only take seats at the table but to lead the meeting, to sign the checks, to build the next table entirely.'