Academic Minimalism

I just got back from my first IIQM conference. I was excited to go and I wanted to get the most out of it. At this point in my career, I have gone to and presented at a LOT of conferences. I have to admit I’m not very good at them. I vacillate between trying to do everything and wearing myself out and doing as little as possible, other than my actual presentation. Even when I do everything, I am exceptionally poor at the networking aspect of the conference experience. So I wanted this experience to be different and it was. Here is what I did to prepare.

Last summer I listened to Priya Parker’s fascinating book, The Art of Gathering. While the book is primarily about hosting events, in a related podcast Parker discusses applying the concepts when you are attending events. This piqued my interest and I decided to try it. The starting point of Parker’s method is to deeply and honestly ask yourself why you are attending (or hosting) this particular event. She urges her clients away from descriptive answers, or answers that merely restate how the event is defined (for conferences that might be: to present my research and learn about research related to my area). I decided that what was important to me about this particular conference was to connect with other qualitative researchers and to re-energize my work as I prepare for my next academic endeavor: stepping down from the Chair role.

Luckily I was listening to the book at the same time I needed to register for the conference. Therefore I forced myself to register for the pre-conference workshops (something I’ve never done before) and the conference networking event (something I’ve never even contemplated before). Once all of the fees were paid, I felt committed to attending these events.

The next step for me was to engage with what others have described as effective conferencing. Afterall academics aren’t really happy unless we engage with the literature. So I read a series of blog posts by one of my academic sheros: Raewyn Connell. I also found an article written by the conference’s organizers on strategies for effective conference attendance. Both of these sources recommended taking a minimalist approach: don’t try and see everything but pick your events based on your priorities.

When the conference program was published, I went through it with a fine-tooth comb and picked those sessions that spoke to my current interests: knowledge translation, opioid use, and arts-based methods. Because this is such a fantastic conference, that left me with a pretty full, but not impossible, plate. I found myself highlighting sessions that would be of more interest or importance to some of my students (who unfortunately were not attending) and had to go back and delete them from my list. My priority for this conference was re-energizing my research. It was not related to my role as a teacher or mentor.

This conference is exceptionally conducive to conversations and networking so, once I got there, I pushed myself to engage. At each meal I tried to sit with someone I didn’t know and engage in conversation. Some of these ended up being friendly interludes and some became invigorating and conversations that gave me new ideas. The networking event (which was a twilight ride on a tall ship) wasn’t until the third night. By that time, most of the people on the ship no longer felt like strangers. While the boat ride was great, I was too busy talking to really take in the sights.

So the moral of this tale is: Parker is 100% correct. When you impose limits on an event you end up getting a lot more out of it.  I came back from the conference feeling connected and excited to get back to being a full-time researcher.