gathering at a conference
be the future
Only a few major decisions separate a boring conference from a spectacular one. When done well, a conference can feel like a real gathering of minds or a once-in-a-lifetime event. Gone a different way, conferences can be boring, unpleasant, a waste of time and money, even sad. The conferences I've attended in my career all land on the spectrum of awful to meh to amazing. I want to create gatherings that make people say "I have to go to this!" without adding an "Ugh," beforehand.
Priya Parker's The Art of Gathering is a book I often refer to when I'm planning an event. I wanted to envision how to use it to design a conference or summit. There's plenty of information in Parker's book about how to create an event. I selected four lessons that I would use to create a worthwhile conference.
define your purpose
"Make purpose your bouncer," Parker writes. "Let it decide what goes into your gathering and what stays out." Start an event like a conference with a clear understanding of its purpose. What's the goal? Parker recommends asking that goal "Why?" until you get a belief or value. If the conference is for professionals in an industry think about how it fits in the group's larger goals. A well-defined purpose should make it clear who a conference will (and won't) be for.
Conferences should create life-changing moments. They're expensive and time-consuming for the organizers as much as the attendees. They often take months of planning and cost thousands of dollars. Why should we put all that effort into something forgettable or uninspiring? When we define our purpose and use it as our bouncer, guests are likely to find exactly what they needed.
My parents used to attend conferences for a professional model makers' association. Model makers cover a wide range of industries. Some sculpt the products of tomorrow; others create artistic miniatures or architectural models. These artists travel from around the world to learn from each other and relax with friends old and new. Rather than staying in the hotel all day, attendees visit the local model makers' shops. They get to see their colleagues' new tools or some cool examples of their work. I tagged along on a shop tour in the late 1990s when the conference was in Los Angeles, CA. I saw the model of the Titanic that was a prop in the movie of the same name. A less-exciting conference might have shared a slideshow with pictures of the model. Seeing it up close is something I may never forget.
choose the right venue
When picking a venue for a conference, most people choose the space that's available. Cost is another barrier. Or organizers might host the conference at the same place every year. While these decisions are fine, I know that they can be better. Instead, we should think about how people want to feel at our event and work backwards from there.
The place we choose for our conference must be accessible. Accessibility was a clear priority at the Othering and Belonging conference I went to in April. Ramps and elevators in most of the building made it easy for people with disabilities to access. They offered sign language interpretation (and captions!) for every event on the main stage. They also offered interpreters in sessions where people requested them. Organizers marked the restrooms on every floor as gender-neutral. Finally, anyone with different access needs could email the accessibility coordinator for help. Some conference-goers still had issues getting to areas where there were no ramps. The conference organizers shared this with us and promised to do better next time.
"Seek a setting that embodies the reason for your convening." Parker argues that when people enter familiar spaces, they act in familiar ways. Many people become quiet and reverential when they enter a cathedral. They wouldn't walk in to a comedy club the same way (unless it was open mic night and they were thrust on stage). Instead, we should create spaces that break people out of their familiar habits.
challenge audience expectations
A conference without controversy is a dull time indeed. What's the fun in agreeing all the time? Controversy, Parker writes, gives people the "danger and benefit" of examining their own values. It "helps people look more closely at what they care about." A challenge to one's beliefs can make us feel unstable. It can also help refine why those beliefs matter to us.
In my view, most industries find themselves at a crossroads all the time. There's the old way of doing things, whatever that was. And there's a different way, sometimes many different ways. Which should we choose? Do we move forward into an uncertain future, or do we stay mired in the past? I'm showing my bias here, but these questions are universal.
A conference is the perfect time to hash out those ideas and really explain them to a wider audience. Structure social gatherings that help people pick apart the directions we're considering. Challenge expectations for what a conference should be, or even what an industry must be.
kickoffs and endings
One of my favorite sections of the book is what Parker writes about beginnings. "Don't miss an opportunity to sear your gathering's purpose into the minds of your guests." Most gatherings, but conferences especially, start with logistics and lead to boredom. People are grabbing breakfast, chatting with old friends, or finding a seat. What if instead of logistics, we chose to honor and awe our guests? Parker recommends an inspiring address that tells the audience why we're all here. Leave stragglers to straggle.
We should end our events with the same level of awe. Parker recommends not leaving the ending for the end. Give people plenty of notice that the day will end sooner than they think. Let people have time to process and reflect on whatever they received from the event. And before they all leave for home, give them the space to bond as a group one last time.
Why should the ending hold as much power and promise as the beginning did? If people only remember the bad food or the tech issues, your conference may not have been the success it could be. The group of people gathered here today did so for a purpose. The people in the room will never share the same space, at the same time, ever again. What magic must have happened here? What will we remember most?
the last ending
My favorite endings are the events that don't end so much as change shape. I worked in a 3-year public health fellowship after college. The fellows worked across several states but convened once or twice a year in Atlanta. During the day we sat in trainings and presentations, but the nights were our own. We formed friendships and bonds with folks we only saw a couple of times a year. Many of us would blow a week's per diem on a great meal, explore the city, and sometimes stay the weekend after the event. The people I met in those off-hours had a place in my heart for years after the fellowship ended. Those endings lasted almost as long as the event itself.
We knew the next time we'd see each other we would be the same, but different. That's the power of a fantastic gathering, isn't it?
my name is josh martinez. i have always loved trying to understand systems, and the systems that built those systems. i spend a lot of time thinking about how to get there from here.
i own and operate a consulting practice, Future Emergent.
say hello! josh@bethefuture.space
sometimes i go back and edit these posts after i publish them. you can always visit bethefuture.space for the most up-to-date version of this post.
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