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"I realized this morning that your event content is the only event-related 'stuff' I still read. I think that's because it's not about events, but about the coming together of people to exchange ideas and learn from one another and that's valuable information for anyone." — Traci Browne

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Conference facilitation lessons from improv: Say Yes!

Say Yes!

Say Yes: photograph of a large group of workers wearing blue shirts striking dramatic triumphant poses outdoors. Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/feastoffools/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Thoughts triggered while rereading Patricia Ryan Madson’s delightful, straightforward, and yet profound improv wisdom.

Patricia Madson’s first improv maxim is “Say Yes!” This reminds me of a harrowing incident not so long ago…

Will this closing session achieve closure?

I was facilitating the closing session of a three-day West Coast peer conference using a fishbowl format. It wasn’t going that well. People were eager to talk, but instead of a conversation developing we were jumping disjointedly from topic to topic.

And then things got worse.

“Selma”, a senior state official, began to speak. Listening, my heart sank as she shared that the conference had failed to adequately involve the significant numbers of minority and low-income attendees who were present. I felt shocked and dismayed. The conference organizers had made heroic and successful efforts to make it possible for a wide variety of people to attend, so Selma’s verdict seemed like a serious indictment of the conference process we had used, a process for which I was responsible.

Looking around the room, it was clear that people were upset by what they had just heard.

Then things got even worse

Instead of responding to Selma’s comments, “John,” the next person to speak, started talking about something entirely different. I felt the credibility of the session shrink rapidly toward zero. People were disengaging. We couldn’t even face a difficult issue head-on—instead, we were going to avoid it and change the subject!

John finished, and I knew we were at a tipping point. And if, as an exercise, someone had described the situation and asked me what I would do, I would have drawn a complete blank.

But this wasn’t an exercise.

What could I do?

Somehow, at that moment, I accepted the situation and acted from my gut.

“John,” I said, my voice quavering a little, “please excuse me, but I feel we need to talk about what Selma just said. If we don’t discuss the issue she’s brought up, then I think we are all going to feel pretty dissatisfied with our time together today.” I turned to Selma. “Selma, I want to hear more about how you think we’ve failed some of the attendees at this event.”

That was enough for Selma and the group to enter an intense discussion of the issues she had raised. There was no more rambling conversation. Though the resulting dialog was difficult at times, the tension in the room subsided as the participants shared and felt heard. The session became an authentic reflection on tough topics, a fitting end to a conference that had raised more questions than could be fully answered in the time we were together. And that was just fine with me.

I said yes

I’m proud of how I responded at the crucial moment. In Madson’s words, I said yes to the situation and responded from my authentic self. It wasn’t easy for me. It would have been safer to say nothing and let the group ramble on disconnectedly. But amazing things can happen when we say yes to the challenges that come our way. Try it!

P.S. If you’re interested in the inspiring organizational and cultural consequences of saying yes, I wholeheartedly recommend Peter Block’s great book, The Answer to How Is Yes: Acting on What Matters.

Have you said yes at a difficult moment? Share that moment below!

Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/feastoffools/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Content versus conversation

At our events, what should be the mix between content versus conversation?Content vs conversation. A photograph of a sitting man and a standing woman talking with each other, a crowded table between them.  Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tonz/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

A few days ago during an #eventprofs chat, I tweeted Cory Doctorow’s remark (made in 2006 in a boing-boing post): Conversation is king. Content is just something to talk about. This inspired a variety of comments from such #eventprofs luminaries as @JeffHurt @MichaelMcCurry @lyksumlikrish @JaredGoldberg @camerontoth and @samuelsmith.

Here’s the point I was trying to make.

Sure, we need to have content at our events – something to talk about. But content is everywhere—I don’t need to go to an event to get content! If I never left my office again (now there’s a thought), as long as I paid my internet provider’s bill each month, I could choose, receive, and absorb content for the rest of my life.

And what a miserable life that would be.

I need connection, engagement, and conversation to make my life meaningful. And, in my experience, so does most of the human race.

Content these days is ubiquitous. Face-to-face events are the places for powerful, life-changing connection and engagement. That’s why we need to make them the best possible environments for conversation we can. And when we do, our conversations will naturally encompass the content that is meaningful for us.

That’s why, for me, conversation is king.

Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tonz/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Anguilla supermarkets and the future of conferences

What do Anguilla supermarkets have in common with the future of conferences? Read on to find out!

This is the third blog post I wrote while vacationing in Anguilla.

A little about Anguilla and its supermarkets

future of conferences: photograph of supermarket shelvesAnguilla is a country of 14,000 people and four supermarkets. I like Anguillan supermarkets. None of them are chains and each has its own character, which makes shopping interesting, rather than the typically predictable American experience.

Nearly everything is imported. When we first started vacationing here, food arrived by ship once a week, usually making Thursday night peak shopping time. As the days passed, popular items like milk and vegetables vanished, only to reappear shortly after the container ships steamed into the harbor at Sandy Ground. Nowadays the shelves are stocked more regularly, but you still never quite know what you may find when you venture inside one of these idiosyncratic stores.

Not all Anguilla supermarkets are the same

Each store has different strengths and weaknesses. One boasts an extensive liquor department but seems to have something against vegetables. Another targets ex-pats, with a fine display of British brand name staples and household knickknacks, while everyday staples are shortchanged. And a third provides the best assortment of local foods, but little in the way of candy for the kids.

What’s interesting is the evolution of these establishments over time. The older supermarkets used to have a monopoly on certain goods; if you wanted cream you had to go to Supermarket A, while Supermarket B was the sole supplier of Pampers. With more sources of supply, the possibilities have multiplied—and the stores have responded in very different ways.

Six years ago, Supermarket C was the most haphazardly stocked of the three we patronized. Its marketing philosophy seemed to be we’ll take anything we can get out hands on, stack it in an aisle, and see if it sells. Their stock gyrated so widely from visit to visit that we avoided shopping there unless we wanted surprises. Not surprisingly, it was rare to see more than a few cars in the parking lot. Meanwhile, Supermarkets A & B relied on their exclusive arrangements to offer, between them, a fairly comprehensive, if somewhat unreliable, selection of useful food and household products.

Fast forward to today

Supermarket C has been transformed. The premises are the same, but the shelves now include a comprehensive range of useful goods. And in addition, unlike competitors A & B, the store is open every day until late. As a result, it’s hard to find a space in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Supermarkets A & B have rested on their laurels. We don’t have to shop in both places to get what we want anymore. C is now our go-to store. And yet, though their traffic is down, we still notice customers shopping at A & B.

These days, those of us who don’t live on a small island know that failure to keep up with competitors in a commodity-driven retail market invariably leads to swift economic extinction. In Anguilla’s laid-back environment, such change will probably occur more slowly, but eventually, unless they make significant changes, Supermarkets A & B will not survive.

The future of conferences

You’ve probably guessed how this relates to the future of conferences. Think of Supermarkets A & B as set-in-their-ways organizers of traditional conferences. Think of C as progressive event planners who realize that people prefer to attend events that give them what they want rather than going to multiple events to get a piece here and a piece there.

In Anguilla, people’s needs for supermarket goods didn’t change, but improvements in the supply of imported goods into Anguilla allowed Supermarket C to change what it offered to better match what people wanted. Likewise, people’s professional needs for relevant content, meaningful engagement, and networking haven’t changed. But we now have a host of new ways to supply content outside the traditional conference, and a host of new ways to find out what conference attendees want to do while they’re together. Ignore the future of conferences at your peril. See you in the aisles at Supermarket C!

Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ame/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Leaving a good conference – Anguilla style

What’s leaving a good conference like?



This is the second of my blog posts written while vacationing in Anguilla.

This morning, the waves in front of Tropical Sunset at Shoal Bay East, Anguilla were just right.

In the water I was hypnotized by the unceasing movement of my body, rising and falling as the blue water swells ran towards me. Their energy rushed at and around me over and over again, and I floated through them, buoyant.

An unknown amount of time passed. Finally, I became aware that I was hungry. Lunch beckoned.

When I turned back to shore, the waves, breaking on the white sand, crashed at my legs and sucked me back towards the sea, saying please, don’t go.

Leaving a good conference is like leaving those waves. You don’t want to go. You don’t want to leave the friends you’ve made, the energy that you felt while you were together.

But it’s time.

The only consolation is that you’ll be back next year.

Helping conference attendees satisfy their curiosity

How can we help conference attendees satisfy their curiosity?

“Satisfaction of one’s curiosity is one of the greatest sources of happiness in life.”
Linus Pauling

How can we help conference attendees satisfy their curiosity? "How did I get here?" "What do I want to have happen?" "What experience do I have that others might find useful?" —The three questions that each attendee answers publicly at a peer conference.

When I was a graduate student I used to dislike going to academic conferences. Despite having won a senior scholarship to Oxford University I was scared of walking into a room of people I didn’t know and trying to start up conversations. When I sat next to random folks at lunch and we talked, I always had the sneaking suspicion that there were probably other people present at the conference whose company I’d enjoy even more—but I had no way to figure out who they might be.

We are curious about other people, especially if we share a common interest. And every culture has its conventions for meeting and learning about strangers. Unfortunately, in a conference setting these conventions limit the number of people we can meet. For example, in my experience, even an extreme extrovert will find it challenging to meet a majority of the people at a 100-attendee two-day conference.

So in the 80’s, when I began to have opportunities to design my conference formats, I knew that I wanted to include the opportunity for participants to learn about each other, right at the beginning of the event.

Over the years, this desire shaped the first Conferences That Work session: The Three Questions. Each attendee in turn answers the following three questions to a group.

The Three Questions

“How did I get here?”
“What do I want to have happen?”
“What experience do I have that others might find useful?”

I describe in detail how to explain these questions to attendees in my book Conferences That Work. There are no wrong answers to the three questions. Participants can answer them by publicly sharing as little or as much as they wish. What I find wonderful about the sharing is how the atmosphere invariably changes as people speak; from a subdued nervousness about talking in front of strangers to an intimacy that grows as people start to hear about topics that engage them, discover kindred spirits, and learn of unique experiences and expertise available from their peers. When sharing is over, both a sense of comfort and excitement prevail. Comfort arising from the knowledge attendees have of their commonalities with others. Excitement at the thought that they now have the rest of the conference to explore the uncovered connections and possibilities.

Switching the responsibility for initial introductions from attendees to the conference model bypasses normal social conventions – replacing them with a safe place for people to share about themselves with others. This simple conference process gives attendees the openings they need to further satisfy their curiosity about their peers. It works amazingly well.

My Anguilla vacation – a 24/7 event

This is the first of my blog posts written while vacationing in Anguilla.

I’m in the middle of a three-week idyllic vacation in Anguilla, a tiny Caribbean island. Colonized by the British in the 17th century, Anguilla today is an internally self-governing overseas territory (Google it!) that still retains charming traces of its colonial past: driving on the left, Cadbury’s chocolate, the ubiquitous use of “Good morning”, etc.

It’s getting harder to think of topics for blog posts as Celia & I are plied with fiendish rum drinks concocted by Susan, one of the three women doctor friends who are visiting us this week. (Yes, I know I’m on vacation, but, after lying for hours on a stunning powder-sand beach in the shade of a coconut palm, watching the hypnotic ebb and flow of perfect blue translucent waves, I begin to worry that I will never be able to think a coherent thought again – and, alarmingly, this is starting to seem O.K.)

This is our fifth vacation in Anguilla. Besides some of the most beautiful beaches in the world (with almost no one on them), goats that ramble all over the place, excellent restaurants, and plentiful mango coladas, there are about 14,000 other reasons why we keep coming back.

The people.

Just about everyone I’ve met who lives here has been friendly and engaging. Once in a while, all of us have a bad day, but Anguillans seem to stay upbeat regardless. There is a sense of acceptance of life’s realities here, and a tendency to look on the bright side of everyday trials and tribulations.

Anguilla’s economy is almost totally dependent on tourism. So how locals respond and interact with tourists like me is critical to their livelihood. In my experience, Anguillans are uniformly pleasant without being obsequious. From my outsider’s point of view, they are running a 24/7 event which I’m attending. And they do it with style and an open heart, just being themselves.

Event planners like me can learn a lot from them.

Minimizing vendor pitches during conference sessions

How can we minimize vendor pitches during conference sessions?minimize vendor pitches: photograph of a conference audience with one attendee raising their hand to ask a question

Traci Browne of Trade Show Institute has been reading my book Conferences That Work and recently wrote:

One of my biggest questions is around vendor pitching at peer-to-peer sessions and not letting them dominate. You know who these people are, they are everywhere and it’s hard to avoid them.

If you’ve read my book you’ll know that unwanted vendor pitches are not a problem at Conferences That Work. Why? Because attendees know that they determine what happens at peer sessions. Not conference organizers, and certainly not vendors.

The conference staff gives vendor representatives who wish to attend peer sessions a set of clear expectations. They ask representatives to sit quietly and observe, and only provide contributions if they ask for and receive an OK from the people present. They warn vendors that it’s possible the session attendees may not want them to be present, though this is rarely a problem in my experience.

At some sessions, attendees may share sensitive personal experiences or want frank discussion of commercial products and services. At these, the session facilitator asks at the start for attendees’ permission to allow vendor representatives to sit in. If someone objects, vendors are not allowed to attend.

When I ran traditional conferences with vendor exhibits, unwanted vendor pitches were a sometimes distasteful and seemingly unavoidable component of the conference experience. Since moving to the peer conference format I have not had one problem allowing vendor representatives to attend conference sessions.

That’s how I minimize vendor pitches during conference sessions.

Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/39852069@N03/ / CC BY-NC 2.0

Clay Shirky and my mission

photograph of Clay Shirky
Clay Shirky

Clay Shirky, the author of one of the best books I’ve read on the transformation of our lives by social tools, Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing Without Organizations says he writes about “Systems where having good participants produces better results than having good planners.

That helps me express what floats my boat.

I am driven to explore systems where having good process produces better results than having good participants or good planners.

Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/poptech2006/ / CC BY 2.0

Does asking attendees in advance for program suggestions work?

conference program suggestions: photograph of a woman surrounded by paperwork with an annoyed expression. Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/joshuacraig/ / CC BY-ND 2.0Does asking attendees in advance for conference program suggestions work?

Attendees repeatedly report in conference evaluations that the predetermined program was a poor fit for what they would have liked to have happened. In my experience, the average participant gives lukewarm ratings to over half of the sessions available to them at a conventional conference. In other words, predetermined programs don’t work.

How can we do better?

One obvious approach is to poll attendees before the conference. Nearly all conscientious event planners do this.

The problem is that asking your attendees for their input on the upcoming conference program simply doesn’t work very well. Here’s why:

Attendees are busy people

Attendees, like all of us, are busy people. How many will fill out a long (or even a short) questionnaire about what they want at an event that’s happening six months from now? Not many. Even if you force them to answer as part of the registration process, how much time are they going to spend to really think about the three most important topics they’d like you to offer? Sure, a minority of attendees will be conscientious and may give you some good ideas. But do you know if they represent an unbiased sample of your attendees? Do you want to base your conference program on their responses?

Six months is an eternity

Most food goes stale. (OK, Twinkies don’t, but how many of us enjoy eating Twinkies?) Similarly, most conference topics have expiration dates. The topic that’s hot now may be cold by the time your conference rolls around. So even if lots of your attendees tell you they’re really into sushi now, it may be Cambodian Cha knyey when it’s time to actually sit down for the conference meal.

What do you want to talk about now?

There’s a world of difference between a response to the question “What do you want?” when it’s asked about the distant future and when it’s asked about what you want in the next five minutes. At Conferences That Work, when the roundtable facilitator announces that, in five minutes, people will start to answer three questions out loud to everyone present, minds become wonderfully concentrated. That’s when you find out what attendees really want. Not before.

Conclusion

I’m not saying we should give up asking in advance what attendees want in a conference program. Sometimes you’ll get good suggestions for conference presenters or session topics that you can turn into valuable sessions at the event. But you’ll rarely be able to create the bulk of a conference program that fits as well as one that’s created at the event.

So, don’t bother asking attendees for conference program suggestions in advance. Remember, predetermined programs don’t work. Instead, relax. Use event crowdsourcing to ask your attendees what they want. Your attendees will build the best program possible themselves—and they’ll thank you for the opportunity!

Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/joshuacraig/ / CC BY-ND 2.0

The potential of group process

I used to staff large group seminars that lasted three or four days and involved intensive group interaction, sharing personal experiences, and individual and group feedback. Quoting from an invitation:the potential of group process: a circular photograph taken from above of a circle of people looking up toward the camera

“The seminar involves risk-taking, emotional investment and expanding your comfort zone. It is all part of a process that has been developed and fine-tuned over a number of years. We know it works; we also know the more you contribute, the more you will gain from it. We hope that you recognize mixed emotions and feelings are a part of the process which, when acknowledged and examined, yield tremendous rewards including greater focus and clarity about your goals, new choices for your personal and professional life, and closer more intimate relationships.”

I staffed over thirty of these events. Typically there were around sixty participants, and I led a group of six or seven people. I hadn’t met the people in my staff group before and rarely ever met them again.

By the end of our time together, the people in my group knew more about the other members than most people know about their closest friends. And, more important, everyone received valuable information about themselves from their group members and from their responses to what happened during the event. This all took place in a safe and supportive environment. Most people found their experience profoundly moving, sometimes life-changing.

The potential of group process

You might be interested in, skeptical, or dismissive of what I’ve just described. That’s not the point. What’s important is my repeated observation that most of us have the potential to quickly develop intimate, powerful connections with others at group events. What must we do for this to occur? At a minimum we must offer 1) a safe environment, and 2) permission and support to step a little outside what we’ve been taught (albeit for good reasons) about what can happen when we meet people.

No, Conferences That Work aren’t large group seminars that launch participants on a voyage of self-discovery. They are gentle, joyful events where people learn, share, and connect safely around a topic of common interest. But my knowledge, gained from those seminars, of what’s possible when people get together drives everything I do.

Image attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/virtualvillage/ / CC BY 2.0