Today we’d like to introduce you to Ashley Hogrebe.
So, before we jump into specific questions, why don’t you give us some details about you and your story.
I grew up in a small town in Washington State in the same school district from kindergarten through high school. From a young age, I was pretty ambitious and knew I wasn’t going to be staying in my hometown any longer than absolutely necessary. I got my Associate’s Degree while I was in high school. Getting an early degree gave me a couple of years to take on internships and travel and still pop back into college and graduate at the same time as my high school friends.
After high school, I took an internship in the Arts District that absolutely changed my life and exposed me to a community that I couldn’t find in my hometown. The internship turned into a job as a tour manager and I managed six people going across the country in an RV when I was 18. After the internship and my tour management gig, I begrudgingly went back to college to finish out my couple of years. I wish I took advantage of what university had to offer, but I was so ready to get back to the community I had just left that I didn’t make the most of time in school, which is one of my biggest regrets. Through my connections from the LA company, I got a job at a tech-free summer camp for adults right after college. I was in charge of Camper Relations, which basically means knowing everyone’s name and architecting their attendee experience from start to finish. I spent a few years immersed in summer camp life, and it was deeply fulfilling to watch people disconnect from technology and reconnect with each other. We did camps in North Carolina, Texas, New York and California. It wasn’t always easy producing an event for 300+ people in the woods, but in those types of environments you form deep bonds with the people you work with and those who come to experience the space you created.
Around the time of the #metoo movement went viral, a handful of women in the camp community came to me with stories of sexual assault and harassment at the hands of another member of our community. I was in a position of power and wanted to support whatever next steps they wanted to take. After weeks of careful consideration, we wrote a Medium post with their stories and shared it with our community so the women didn’t have the burden of this secret on their shoulders anymore. (To anyone thinking of doing a similar process, please feel free to email me if you want to hear the details of this process. I’m happy to share anything that may be beneficial to you.)
This was a heavy and emotionally taxing time. Overall the reaction was positive, but it was surprising to see people you thought would be supportive be silent, or worse, judge the decision these women made.
From #metoo to the election to everything in between, we were constantly having conversations about the hard stuff. Those conversations are so important and we absolutely need to keep having them, but I felt we needed a dedicated time and space where we gave ourselves the permission work on putting our dreams, ideas, and projects out into the world. I invited a handful of women I knew who were going through similar situations over to my house for the weekend and we mapped out of goals, shared our visions for ourselves and our communities, and collaborated and coworked side-by-side on our projects. It was an incredibly inspiring and healing weekend. Since then, I’ve continued to create spaces for women and marginalized genders to come together, support each other, and hold one another accountable.
Great, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
I have depression and that can cause anything that isn’t absolutely necessary to come to a screeching halt. When depression hits, Do The Damn Thing is one of the first things to feel the effects. I don’t have a business partner. I’m making this up as I go along. I create my own deadlines. Because of that, it can be hard to stay accountable to myself when things get hard (ironic for someone who runs accountability groups, I know!). I know the depression is always going to come back and knock me on my ass again, so I do what I can to get ahead when I’m feeling good, like batching content and taking more exploratory phone calls and meetings.
Overall, I have incredible privilege that has made my road much easier than most and I have little to complain about in terms of struggle.
Please tell us about Do The Damn Thing.
Do The Damn Thing creates resources for feminist creatives to achieve their personal, political and professional goals while gaining new friends, supporters, and collaborators along the way. We’re most known for our 5-week accountability series. During the series, you pick a personal, political and professional goal, define your weekly milestones, and then we come together each week and we hear where you’re at, where you’re stuck, and what you need support on.
I’m most proud of the connections and bonds that are formed from the people who go through Do The Damn Thing. When you’re sitting in a room for five weeks hearing one another’s biggest dreams and struggles, you get close. I literally get teary eyed when I hear about collaborations that happen after Do The Damn Thing ends. We’ve had people borrow each other’s camping gear, be guests on each other’s podcasts, and one member even planned the other’s surprise engagement. Knowing that I had some small part to play in those connects makes me incredibly proud.
The political aspect of our accountability series sets us apart from most accountability groups. If you have the time and privilege to work on a personal and professional goal, you have time to work on a political goal. Political can mean different things to different people and doesn’t just apply to elections. Do The Damn Thing is for feminist creatives, and if you’re calling yourself a feminist, you should be held accountable to taking real action on a regular basis. Feminism is about much more than internet outrage, hashtags, and pink pussy hats. (Please, stop wearing pink pussy hats.) In Do The Damn Thing, we hold each other accountable to completing our projects, yes, but there is also an expectation that we are holding each other accountable to deepening our understanding of the issues that matter to us and taking action.
Do you look back particularly fondly on any memories from childhood?
I used to have a pet pig named Petunia and she would watch Lizzie McGuire with me when I got home from school.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.do-the-damn-thing.com
- Phone: 4049844826
- Email: [email protected]
- Instagram: runtheworld_losangeles
Image Credit:
Elizabeth Engle, Kelly Browne
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