Dream Con has spoiled me.
It became my first-ever anime, gaming, and pop culture convention. Back in 2021, when I first attended, my expectations were high and it surpassed them effortlessly. I remember when I flew into the heat of Arlington, Texas, only to be met with dry grass, the sun lingering over my skin, bathing it in sweat. But suddenly, the heat mysteriously subsided (I was still sweating, of course). Seeing a sea of melanated faces who also shared the same interests and imagination was a surreal feeling. I was surrounded by people who were akin to me. It provided this sense of safety and comfort. It was a fever dream I didn’t want to wake up from.
The 11-year-old version of myself would have never imagined the possibility. This became one of the few times where I felt seen. Fast forward to 2025, now residing in Houston, TX, the same feeling returned.
What Mark Phillips and Affion Harris built in 2018 has grown to become a cultural landmark. Their vision was clear: create a space where Black people who love nerd culture could feel welcome. And that’s exactly what they did. Oftentimes, Black fans of this culture were overlooked and ostracized from a community we helped shape. But that’s nothing new, right? Historically, African Americans have been pushed to the sidelines, forced to forgive and forget a time rooted in fear, pain, and erasure. So, what we did was create our own juke joint, where Black people can authentically be themselves while uplifting each other’s dreams.
2025 marks the 7th anniversary of the mecca of Black nerd culture, and it continues to evolve. Its name, Dream Con, stems from Phillips’s visionary team, RDC World, an acronym for Real Dreamers Change The World. From the panels, cosplays, events, and meet-ups, the essence of the name pulses through every inch of the convention.
Dream Con isn’t some ordinary convention providing fan service. It’s a place where dreams feel possible. While it does give you community, it most importantly gives you access.
There are plenty of opportunities to connect with like-minded individuals within content creation, workshops about streaming, panel discussions led by Black creatives, and game design showcases. Dream Con provides education disguised as entertainment. Whether you're trying to be a YouTuber, voice actor, animator, or indie dev, Dream Con hands you the blueprint.
I wasn’t alone on this trip, as my brother, my partner in crime, was alongside me. As we approached the convention, we were met with a beautifully crafted building with sleek and modern architecture. Its dominant stature and immense scale resembled a coliseum.
Funnily enough, the Houston Rockets stadium sat just across the street a quiet neighbor to the chaos and magic brewing inside these walls.
Usually, Dream Con is full of mayhem. I was expecting to see ridiculously long lines like Disney World in the summer lines wrapped around the building, frenzied fans, and a kind of beautiful chaos that was both thrilling and exhausting. But this year? It was different. It was calmer. Controlled. In past years, getting in was a hassle. This time, it was organized, and lines were moving much more smoothly than imagined.
When we entered the building, we were met with a churning mass of vibrant personalities. People dressed in intricately crafted cosplays you could tell they poured time, effort, and money into every detail. Smiles were everywhere. There was a collective sense of joy in the air, like everyone understood they were in a space where they truly belonged. A place they could call home, even if just for one weekend each year.
What makes Dream Con special is that it doesn’t just feel like a convention, it feels like a family reunion.
This year, I kept hearing stories from people who were meeting their internet friends for the first time, finally stepping out of Discord calls and group chats into real-life hugs and selfies. And the best part? Nobody was musty.
Moving Dream Con to the George R. Brown Convention Center was the perfect call. The space was massive, and it needed to be especially with over 30,000 attendees this year.
This year was jam-packed with events from celebrity basketball games, Marvel Rivals and Call of Duty tournaments, to volleyball competitions, comedy shows, and so much more. Everything under the sun could be found at Dream Con.
My personal favorite? Brianna Williams, better known as Storymodebae, brought the house down with her Bae Brigade music event. Styled after Swizz Beatz and Timbaland’s Verzuz, two teams went head-to-head in a battle of hits, going back and forth on which song reigned supreme across different categories.
It was a beautiful sight everyone singing their hearts out to nostalgic bangers, coming together like it was a giant cookout. Pure joy. Pure vibe.
And of course, the guest list was stacked.
Rockstar and R&B powerhouse Leon Thomas made an appearance. Carl Jones, the genius co-producer of The Boondocks, was in the building. Berleezy had fans going wild. Earthgang brought the energy. Dominique Thor, Marvel’s very own Ironheart made a stop. And let’s not forget Houston’s very own Megan Thee Stallion, who pulled up like a real-life anime heroine.
Beyond the hype and high-profile guests, Dream Con offered a little something for everyone. The gaming hall was a whole world of its own, packed with consoles, screens glowing with button-mashing intensity, and crowds hyped over Street Fighter, Call of Duty, and Marvel Rivals matches.
One moment you’re watching a tournament. The next, you’re stumbling into an open mic session where up-and-coming artists were given the mic, the stage, and the crowd. It wasn’t just performance, it was opportunity. A chance to build fans on the spot.
And then there were the panels; insightful, vulnerable, and packed with perspectives that forced you to think deeper. Whether it was creators breaking down their paths or conversations about mental health, these moments reminded you that Dream Con is more than celebration. It’s education.
Even the small details stood out: a company handing out period care kits for women, thoughtful and necessary. A quiet YouTube Lounge for creators to connect. A solid food court with some real gems including these massive eggrolls we tried that were decent, weird, and kind of great in a way you can’t really explain.
But what makes Dream Con so powerful isn’t just the events, it’s the impact. The way people leave feeling seen. Inspired.
That’s what Dream Con does, it gives you permission. To dream. To show up as your full self. To be surrounded by people who not only understand you, but root for you.
One woman, dressed as Meliodas from Seven Deadly Sins, told me,
“I really like the community. It's a big mix of people just expressing themselves, just not being afraid of showing who they are.”
Another attendee mentioned,
“It’s a very positive and welcoming vibe. It’s a safe space to be yourself.”
That sentiment echoed everywhere I went. People weren’t just cosplaying they were free. Free from judgment. Free to be joyful, weird, loud, quiet, creative, introverted, extra or all of it at once.
And honestly? That’s the real magic of Dream Con.
I came to Dream Con as press. A storyteller. An observer. But I left reminded of why I started creating in the first place.
Because somewhere in that sea of cosplayers, panels, music battles, and eggrolls — I felt that same energy I did back in 2021. That unshakable, almost spiritual sense that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Dream Con isn’t just a convention. It’s a promise. That real dreamers do change the world and it all starts by creating space for people to just be.
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