Alaskan. Entrepreneur.
Survivor. Advocate.
The full, unfiltered version — from Alaska to the White House, from the chemo chair to the podium.
Born in Alaska.
Built for this.
I was born in Alaska in the 1980s to two small business owners. My mom was the first female orthodontist in the state. My dad was the first immigration attorney. I was raised to be resourceful, direct, and unafraid of hard things.
I was also born with a congenital heart defect and had open heart surgery at age 10. I've been acquainted with hospitals my whole life — which may be why they don't scare me the way they scare other people.
I snowboarded. I played in the jazz band and took Latin after school. I graduated high school at the top of my class — in three years. Then I moved to North Carolina to attend Duke University, where I earned a psychology degree and started my first company.
Brooks, age 2, Alaska. The strut was always there.
16 years. $2.5 billion.
50 people in Raleigh, NC.
At college, I started a web design company with my now-husband Jesse Lipson. Our first client was AOL in 2001. I discovered A/B testing and never looked back.
In 2003, I founded Brooks Bell Inc. — one of the first digital consulting firms to focus purely on optimizing websites through data and experimentation. Over 16 years, we generated more than $2.5 billion in value for Fortune 500 clients including American Express, Under Armour, Gap, and IHG.
I also co-founded a co-working space called Raleigh Founded in 2011 — now the largest entrepreneurial community in Raleigh with over 2,000 members. I started Click Summit, a leading industry conference, and delivered the keynote for 10 years.
(I also had a stroke at 24. Lost the ability to speak, write, and walk. Returned to work within two weeks. My business survived. I am not easy to stop.)
Then everything changed
In January 2019, I noticed symptoms that wouldn't go away. Over the next two months, I saw two doctors. Both diagnosed it as hemorrhoids.
But it never cleared up. I referred myself to a gastroenterologist for a third opinion. Unlike the others, she was visibly alarmed. We scheduled a colonoscopy four days later.
When I woke up, her troubled expression told me everything. She had found a tumor. Almost certainly cancerous.
I was officially diagnosed with Stage 3 colon cancer. I was 38 years old. The next day, I stepped down as CEO.
PCP #1
"It's a hemorrhoid."
PCP #2
"It's a hemorrhoid."
GI Doctor
"60 days is too long."
Diagnosis
"You have cancer."
"Six months of surgery and chemotherapy. I felt like a shell of myself. But while I was in that chair, I started learning things that would change the direction of my entire life."
From the chemo chair
to a new mission
On the eve of my 40th birthday — one year after my last chemotherapy infusion — I got the news every cancer patient waits for: the cancer was gone.
And then I got to work. Because while I was in treatment, I had discovered something I could not stop thinking about: colon cancer is one of the most preventable cancers we have — and people are dying from it because nobody will talk about colonoscopies.
My goal: inspire 1 million colonoscopies over the next decade.
Polyps removed across my 3 colonoscopies — any one of which could have become cancer. And one did.
Cancer-free on my 40th birthday, one year after my last chemo infusion
Colonoscopies I want to inspire over the next decade
Lead From Behind
Before Worldclass, I founded Lead From Behind — a campaign to get celebrities to publicly film their colonoscopies and inspire Americans to schedule their own.
It worked. Ryan Reynolds filmed his colonoscopy and posted it to his 20 million followers. Colonoscopy appointments went up 36% nationwide. That's what happens when you make the unsexy thing impossible to ignore.
Stages I've Stood On
Real answers from a real whiteboard
My team knows I care that I have impact on people around me. As a birthday gift one year, an organizer set up a whiteboard with one question: "What is one thing you've learned from Brooks?"
The answers filled the board. "Always turn any challenge or setback into an opportunity." "Tell a clear story." "Give before you get." "It's okay to be real and vulnerable." "Treat yourself — just buy the pair of pants."
That last one is definitely accurate. I stand by it.
Bring Brooks to Your Event →A life that doesn't
fit in a bio
I've been to Butt-Con (yes, that's a real event — yes, I was wearing a colonoscopy shirt). I've collided with a school bus, a moose and minivan in my first year of getting my driver's license. I've owned two Sealyham terriers. I've explored the Sahara, the Denali, and Antarctica. I still love fashion.
I started a Colonoscopy Gala. My Linkedin Profile leads with "Colonoscopy Enthusiast". I am deeply committed to the bit.
Butt-Con. Wearing the shirt. Obviously.
The Sahara. No colonoscopy scope in sight — just sand.
Want to bring this story
to your audience?
I give keynotes, workshops, panels, and corporate talks. Every presentation is tailored — and every audience leaves with something they didn't expect.