Create Business Academy by Creatrix, Lauren Wallett | Feminist Business Consultant, International Business Coach, Business School for Consultants, Entrepreneurs, Service Providers
Clubhouse was my Instagram rebound before I met TikTok…
Instagram tasted like a three-day-old cookie. Once sweet and enjoyable, but now stale. It’s overcrowded with rehashed coaching quotes and motivational must do’s. Every scroll brings up another perky problem solution. My DMs are stuffed with “hey babe,” opportunities. Buy followers, pyramid schemes, ambassador requests, and bitcoin proposals from creepy strangers.
So when I entered Clubhouse I was filled with hope for a fresh conversation. For a change, I could listen to black voices. I craved alternative perspectives. I wanted a new sound from the white noise drone of my Instagram feed and life.
And for the first 2 weeks, I was hooked! I’m talking, 5-hours a day, it’s 11.pm in bed and I’m still on, listening while I bath kind of addicted.
My favorite clubhouse chat was “Why don’t you listen to your aquarian friend?” Five fellow Aquarians talked about how we wished our friends listened to us for the first time. “Blacks eating pumpkin pie” made my Thanksgiving. I even bought a pumpkin pie to try.
Finally, an online space that wasn’t dominated by the Patriarchal drone except…
I should have realized the rooms were spoiled the first time my stomach churned. I was part of a room that got shut down. An old white man with a massive following mansplained how using the term “Indian” wasn’t offensive to Native Americans. All-knowing, with extended pauses, his “let me finish” drawl made my cheeks flush red. I felt the ancient familiar stirring of rage in my bones. “Shut the fuck up!” I wanted to scream. But because I wasn’t the only one seething, it comforted me and I thought he was an exception, not the rule. Because sometimes I like to imagine we’re not living a patriarchal capitalist world.
But over the next week, I noticed more and more annoying Tech bros cluttering up the scene. Suddenly it was like I was back in 2017 pre “me too” hating men again! What the world doesn’t need is another space where you’re silenced and have to raise your hand to be invited to speak.
The clubhouse filter is a basic-bro tech zombie.
I swear if I heard one more techie who sold out to start a weed business; I was going to be sick. Listening to these dudes was like being force-fed, gluten-free bread. Please watch my 7-minute explainer video with bad audio about my new LinkedIn Alternative so we can discuss in a room chat. Spoiler alert, it’s like LinkedIn. I felt like I was inside an SNL sketch.
When a start-up dude booked me for a chat and couldn’t understand why working for him on commission was offensive, I knew my time was up. It was the zillionth time too many and no bro; we don’t want to work for free for you.
It’s a dozen Millionaire Mindset Mornings, the future of micro-dosing and 7-figure launch strategy sessions from the hustle and grinders who want to be known but have nothing new to say. In TikTok speak: Say Less.
Clubhouse is just another meeting that never needed to happen.
It’s predominately rooms of white men talking in circles. And they can stay there. Let them Mansplain themselves to death. They can waste each other’s time. And clap each other on the back, spewing rehashed “think and grow rich” cliches to each other.
Everyone appropriately praises the speaker with their deepest gratitude – just to hear their voice longer. It’s a gentrified space that triggers anger you may have forgotten you have.
Remembering my freedom of expression, I made an outraged TikTok. It went: “I’ve never met a non-problematic white dude. They’re all patriarchal, into psychedelics, polyamory, and ayahuasca.” And it blew up with a negative response. “No – what are you on about?” Turns out it’s not all men, just men on Clubhouse. I questioned the Clubhouse reality. Maybe every man isn’t a motivational speaker, woke guru or relationship coach? I imagined TikTok as a tech-bro-free zone and… it worked!
The outpouring of love has been outrageous. Instead of raising hands and silence, TikTok is about self-expression. And you don’t need to wait for an invitation to be onboarded.
Clubhouse can keep its hierarchy with wait times and no interruptions. Meanwhile, I’m making coffee in my pajamas and laughing at the latest TikTok trend.
I don’t have 3 hours to waste in a “shoot my shot” room to hopefully make a connection who will do something for me. He won’t. I promise you that the pointless conversation isn’t worth the price of your coffee with him. With TikTok, your people come to you! In 30 seconds I’ve sold books, gone viral, and built an international community.
Clubhouse promotes more cliques, not connections.
Clubhouse is not the connected vibe I craved. But as it turns out, I didn’t need it to be. TikTok was right there all along and it is. There are no gatekeepers to the app. TikTok doors are open and everyone is welcome as they are right now.