“We don’t have tables for you, you need a reservation.” I blinked twice, confused as I looked at the near-empty wine bar in Tenerife, Spain. I did my research and none of the previous visitors, from locals to cruise attendees, had to reserve a table. But there I stood, with an increasing number of eyes glued to me. “I can make a reservation,” I suggested.
“No, no reservations today. Maybe tomorrow.” At that point I got the steel-toed hint that I wasn’t welcome there so I walked to another wine bar. At wine bar number two, after being told that there was a seat almost ready for me for 20 minutes—and watching newcomers with no reservations come, get seated, order, and stare at me—I knew that I wasn’t going to accomplish anything on this self-funded research trip to learn about the island’s wines.
Upset, I went back to my apartment and logged onto a Facebook group to try and gather information and, ideally, redeem the disheartening experiences I had. Upon posting about my concerns, I was quickly called the n-word, an overly sensitive outsider, and many other classless terms that informed me that I was unwelcome on the island—and actively in danger.
Don’t miss the latest drinks industry news and insights. Sign up for our award-winning newsletters and get insider intel, resources, and trends delivered to your inbox every week.
While this was my most recent time experiencing outright discrimination while traveling to learn about wine, spirits, and other beverages, it was far from my first. As a Black woman journalist who has a chronic autoimmune disease that affects my mobility, I know that racism, ableism, and many other forms of discrimination are present in the beverage industry. But the reality of the dangers that marginalized media face when trying to share stories and gather information didn’t dawn on me until this recent trip.
In a tangible way, the future of the beverage industry (and journalism as a whole) is dependent on the ability of disenfranchised voices to safely do their jobs without obstruction. Gen Z, for example, was named the most ethnically and racially diverse generation in the history of the United States in 2020, and only 26 percent of Gen Z identifies as exclusively heterosexual. The stories people want to hear are directly correlated to the rapidly diversifying population and zeitgeist.
Telling those stories often comes at the expense of the safety of marginalized journalists. The landmines we face are plentiful and littered throughout the beverage industry in sizes ranging from immediately catastrophic to death-by-a-thousand-cuts.
Microaggressions Towards Marginalized Journalists
“It’s more microaggressions that I deal with,” says Gabrielle Pharms, an award-winning journalist and copywriter based in Austin, Texas. “The microaggressions are so psychological because people would like you to think that it’s all in your head and that you’re making it a race issue.”
Pharms, who has been a beverage journalist for eight of her 10 years in journalism, went on to talk about an experience with a white male editor who was a self-proclaimed ally. After receiving an award, the editor made statements to Pharms that suggested his editing was the key reason she received the accolade. “He felt he needed to dial me down a bit,” says Pharms. “I did start to wonder … maybe there is something going on with me.”
“Thoughts, prayers, and shorthanded gestures only go centimeters in the marathon of creating and maintaining culturally sensitive and relevant media.”
“Microaggressions chip at your confidence from day to day,” explains Pharms. “The frontal attacks you see coming to you are expected. It’s those subtle psychological microaggressions that start having you gaslighting yourself, that make you start wondering and questioning your talent, and whether or not you are even experiencing these things.”
In Pharms’s experience, there’s a lot of gatekeeping among editors and publications. “They have in mind the type of person they want to give these opportunities to,” she says. “Look at the main writers that go on these [press] trips; we’re experiencing [discrimination] firsthand. Where are the other Black spirits writers, women in particular, that get invited to these trips?”
The Necessity for Marginalized Publicists
When it comes to journalists getting offered opportunities, or even information from within the industry, relationships with public relations professionals are key. But with 81 percent of all PR specialists being white, and a staggering nine percent of all entry-level positions in PR occupied by Black people, it’s no wonder Black journalists tend to be on the outside looking in.
With disenfranchised people largely outside of journalism and public relations positions, there grows a cavern for errors and harm in marketing, advertising, and all forms of storytelling, regardless of whether a press trip is or is not on the table. Some organizations are trying to bridge the gap to help underrepresented media and brands create safe and mutually profitable relationships, but it’s an uphill battle during the rainy season.
I first met Mikayla Vielot, a senior director at Rachel Harrison Communications (RHC), in early 2024 when I was hired to do a media informational session with the RHC team about my writing niches and experience as a Black woman journalist with a chronic illness. I was encouraged to talk about everything from how I became a journalist to getting kicked out of business class on an official press trip because, supposedly, Black people can only fly economy. It was the first time a PR agency seemed interested in my perspective and my experiential knowledge of intersectional safety and accessibility. And in the crowd was Vielot, the first Black publicist I ever encountered.
“I recently went on a press trip with two marginalized journalists where they told me this was the first time they traveled with a Black publicist and it rocked my world,” said Vielot. “I couldn’t believe that was something we are still dealing with today.” Many Black people in senior positions can feel like lone soldiers for their communities, especially if they are the only person at a certain level in the corporate ladder. “I’ve always felt a duty to seek out opportunities to amplify stories for people who look like me and to do so in a tasteful way because it may not be top-of-mind for my peers. I want to help shed light on these underrepresented communities, work with these clients, and be a resource for journalists who are looking to tell [underrepresented] stories.”
Nikita Jankowski, the founder and president of Belesai Communications, encourages Black and brown people to enter into public relations to change the game from the inside. “You may be the only one in the room, but always leave the door open for someone else,” she urged. “As you climb, reach back and help others that look like you and those that don’t look like you. You’ll be surprised at how many more doors will open for you and maybe even for someone you hold dear.”
Marginalized Beverage Journalists Connect Consumers With Community-Safe Brands
Black-American food writers, which includes beverage writers, make up a minuscule 6.3 percent of the field, many of which are freelancers, according to Zippia. Why? Partly because Black food writers are salaried at just $52,819, on average, which is the lowest salary of all racial demographics.
The lack of investment in underrepresented media professionals has a direct effect on the growth and sustainability of the beverage industry, and individual companies’ sales. While not all brands are interested in conscious consumers, all companies care about a thick bottom dollar.
As a copywriter, part of Pharms’s job is to study numerous survey companies to understand their demographics. In her research, she found evidence that Black Gen Z and millennial demographics are more apt to make a purchase if they see someone who looks like them. According to Nielsen, 35 percent of Black Americans don’t agree with how brands portray their community, and 66 percent of Black buyers are fully prepared to divest from brands that devalue Black people. “The fate of the industry financially will come down to whether or not people are just saying DEI or if they’re living DEI,” says Pharms.
Samara Davis is the CEO and founder of the Black Bourbon Society, an organization that brings together the spirits industry and Black bourbon lovers. When she first started going to whiskey events to share the news of her organization and network, one of the representatives told her that the larger whiskey community had no idea that Black people drank bourbon. “That’s not a racist statement,” she shares retrospectively. “That’s an ignorant statement … That’s just not understanding your market; that’s not understanding and seeking to know how to interact with other consumers outside of the tried-and-true demographic for bourbon.”
With women now making up 36 percent of all whiskey drinkers, and Black people—even while historically being booted out of this inherently Black spirit—making up about nine percent of whiskey drinkers (a number that is growing), it makes sense to invest in these demographics. But brands are not appealing to the same audiences they used to and they struggle to gain trust with new audiences. That’s where organizations like the Black Bourbon Society and Black journalists step in. Educational institutions (like the Black Bourbon Society) and marginalized media not only inform new clientele about community-safe brands, but we also share blind spots that, in this age of radical authenticity, can be the death knell for a brand.
How Do We Make the Industry Safer for Marginalized Journalists?
Jackie Summers—the CEO and founder of Sorel Liqueur, the first Black distiller to own a liquor license in the United States, and a James Beard Award-nominated journalist—sits on a number of high-profile boards, including the Vibe Advisory Council, which includes some of the largest on-premise buyers in the country, totaling several billion dollars of spending power. After talking about the $5-trillion spending power of the Black and Latino communities in the U.S., Summers continued: “I’m still the only Black person in this room. How are we going to change the complexion of the whole industry when you can’t even change the demographics of this room? My recommendation is to find people like me and hire them as C-suite, not labor or management. If there’s no one in your C-suite that can speak directly to the needs of what will be the biggest demographic in the country, you have missed your opportunity.”
So, what can we do to protect marginalized journalists and safeguard the future of our industry? Thoughts, prayers, and shorthanded gestures only go centimeters in the marathon of creating and maintaining culturally sensitive and relevant media. Having marginalized representation in every level of an organization, from publications to PR, is necessary for the safety of underrepresented writers and for the continuation of this industry. This lessens the burden of “catching discrimination” that falls on the shoulders of a few underrepresented employees, and helps organizations get in on the cutting edge of new trends and information.
For example, after my RHC seminar, the team discussed how being conscious about accessibility and inclusivity can build deeper relationships with journalists because everyone benefits from safe spaces. In a company blog post, some of their top takeaways included redefining accessibility as a global necessity instead of a niche, and the significance of building in time for rest and solo exploration into an itinerary. Most itineraries are too picturesque and do not allow for storytellers to see if a space (be it a distillery or destination) is or is not safe for unsupervised travelers and consumers who read and trust our words.
“As for me, I offer you this: let your discomfort motivate you to invite change in the monolithic, to challenge systems of injustice, to be David staring down Goliath with nothing but a pen and paper.”
For the next generation of journalists, while the trials may seem insurmountable and ongoing, there is hope. You do have industry aunties, uncles, and elders—like myself, Pharms, and Summers—to help light your path because your voice is needed here. Summers, taking inspiration from James Baldwin, says, “Your responsibility is to truth. Have the courage to go beyond the pretty words, that’s what you owe the people who fought for your right to do this and the groundwork we lay for those who come after.”
Pharms’s words of encouragement focus on the importance of self-assuredness and a solid community. “Don’t second-guess yourself and trust your gut,” she says. “Find your inner circle and be okay with not being popular.”
As for me, I offer you this: let your discomfort motivate you to invite change in the monolithic, to challenge systems of injustice, to be David staring down Goliath with nothing but a pen and paper. The discrimination I faced in Tenerife lit a fire in me that led me to this very sentence, a sentence that can possibly create change for generations of writers to come. Don’t let your discomfort live in your throat or in your drafts, silent and trapped; and, if a door into traditional publications doesn’t open, you can still make a difference.
Social media has already provided torrential waters to the creation of guerilla journalism in the beverage space, from disabled cocktail lovers like Taylor Lindsay-Noel, who rate bars and restaurants based on basic accessibility standards, to The Millennial Somm and other wine lovers who share the stories of people and brands that resonate with them to growing audiences worldwide. Where traditional journalism might not have created the space for these individuals to thrive in their full authenticity, they paved a road through the thicket of the internet and built an organic community behind their message.
“I’m telling you right now, Gen Z is the last majority white generation this country is ever going to see,” says Summers. “You can either change with it or you can go broke.” This is a reality that we will see reflected in the journalistic landscape very soon. Stories in the beverage industry that do not center the global majority, LGBTQIA+ communities, accessibility, and other underserved groups will congeal, untouched, on the back burner.
Dispatch
Sign up for our award-winning newsletter
Don’t miss the latest drinks industry news and insights—delivered to your inbox every week.
Shayna Conde is a food, beverage, and travel writer who highlights marginalized voices and explores sustainability and accessibility within the hospitality industry. When she’s not writing, she’s probably rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender (the original series only). For more of her work, check out her website here.
