Ever heard of David Scott? I hadn’t, until I Googled “Who is the seventh person to walk on the moon?”
The first person to walk on the moon, Neil Armstrong, achieved immortality for doing the exact same thing as Scott, but before anyone else ever had. Neither man was notably more remarkable than the other, but Armstrong’s achievement inscribed him in the annals of history, where he will be studied, remembered, and honored until the end of human existence. Scott, on the other hand, you’ll probably forget about by the end of today.
There’s special status in being first, and there’s financial value in it as well. Such accomplishments merit celebration, from being the first woman master blender in the spirits industry (Joy Spence), the first brewpub in an entire country (Rwanda’s Kweza Craft Brewery), or Kentucky’s first Black-owned distillery (a designation currently in dispute, with Brough Brothers Distillery filing suit against Fresh Bourbon LLC to legally obtain the right to call themselves the first). It’s a badge of honor in which there is no sharing—you’re either the first person out of 108+ billion to be recorded accomplishing something, or you’re not.
For businesses, being first to market, or having “first mover advantage,” also provides an instant edge that others coming after won’t have access to. Between designating industry rates and establishing oneself as the standard bearer of a category, the financial benefits of going first loom large. Sure, there’s risk in venturing into the unknown, but there’s also tremendous freedom.
But it can be lonely at the top. There may be benefits to being first, but what’s the cost of being the only?
For instance, though literally thousands of craft breweries operate in the U.S., just 1% are Black-owned, based on the latest estimate from the Brewers Association. In San Diego, where I live, that meager percentage is even smaller: Chula Vista Brewery is currently the only Black-owned brewery out of over 150 others. (It was not the first: That honor belongs to the now-shuttered Thunderhawk Alements.) Is it because brewery ownership is an often insurmountable goal, or due to lack of interest from the Black beer community? I doubt either is a true explanation, although I’m sure disproportionate barriers to access of capital and a relatively small population that identifies as Black (around 5%, according to the latest census) don’t help much.
If you think about it, the fact that we still live in a time when being the first to accomplish something is relatively commonplace is more than a little disheartening. We’ve still only had one Black president. One woman as Vice President. Very, very few trans people have been elected into public office. As glorious as it seems to gobble up these scraps of positivity, it’s hard to remain optimistic about such tidbits when we could instead be enjoying a feast of progress.
That said, while it’s easy to wish we had a gay President, more Muslim mayors, or more trans judges, trailblazing still so often comes at a cost. Ruby Bridges needed federal protection just to attend school, and her family faced discrimination and violence as well due to their commitment to desegregation. How many leaders of progress have been assassinated? How many minority-owned businesses have been burned due to opening in white neighborhoods? How many death threats did Sandra Day O’Connor get for the perceived crime of being the first woman on the Supreme Court? How does one calculate the cost versus the value in being first, in being alone?
In her piece for Good Beer Hunting titled “A Rare Gem or a Llama in a Suit? — South Asian Women on Navigating (and Advancing) the Craft Beer Industry,” writer and South Asian woman Ruvani de Silva deftly describes the advantages as well as the struggles of being the only Brown woman in many rooms, discussing the need for representation, the dangers of tokenism, and the absolute relief of finding others like her in craft beer. It’s hard—sometimes exhausting—to be nominated the de facto representative of a given minority community. So what keeps lone leaders like de Silva going?
“The warmth and acceptance the beer world can offer does, to me, feel like something worth fighting for … I find it can, up to a point, be fun and empowering being different. My response has always been to make myself bolder, brighter, more visible—to step into my difference as much as possible, and to use any attention I receive to break down stereotypes and challenge preconceptions. This approach can sap one’s emotional energy. But for me, the end result has been greater acceptance, and an ability to open the door for others,” she explains in “A Rare Gem.”
That reflexive urge to hold the door open for others fluctuates between an optional burden and a moral obligation, something trailblazers from all backgrounds grapple with. There’s a fine line between embracing one’s solitary status and opening themselves up to tokenization, a concept that Lily Waite tackles in her piece for Good Beer Hunting, “On Fitting In.” “By pointing out my differences in order to examine the relationships in my life, I fear that I continue to paint myself—and other people like me—into a corner,” she says in regards to her experiences as a queer trans woman in beer. “I see myself as obligated to work to be visible in the knowledge that visibility provides representation, which in turn may be of use to others. I don’t feel like I can retreat yet.”
For his part, Chula Vista Brewery’s owner, Tim Parker, says he doesn’t focus on the fact that his is the only Black-owned brewery in the San Diego region. “To be honest, it’s just something I don’t think about,” he says. “Our goal is just to make great beer.” But he adds that the team isn’t necessarily trying to reach the already-savvy craft beer consumer: Rather, his goal is to introduce a quality product to people who haven’t yet had the opportunity, or perhaps desire, to enter the majority-white space. “We do a lot in the community. I think it’s just a lot of people don’t notice because they never paid attention to the minority community,” he says.
Recognition for being the first or only—celebrating representation where there formerly was none—must also be balanced with not diluting or tokenizing accomplishments. If you’re wondering, “What the hell does that mean?” here’s a tip: Just follow the lead of the person or business you’re talking about. Amplify their words, instead of fetishizing them with your own. If they promote their first and/or only status, embrace that. If they don’t, don’t! And if you’re still unsure, just make sure the door is wide open for others to become the second, seventh, or hundredth of whatever they’re doing—whether it be walking on the moon or opening a brewery.
