As I sit here preparing myself for a weekend of ALA Annual, I find myself ruminating once again on other modes of conferencing and what is gained or lost depending on how a conference is organized.
I, personally, come to ALA only for Asian Pacific American Librarians Association (APALA) events. Any activity related to my core job duties happens at a different conference or, increasingly, online, and thus every year I find myself torn on whether or not to go to ALA. Attending APALA events is, of course, lovely, but it would be much more fulfilling if I could get more work done in conjunction with them.
And so, virtual conferences. While I like the concept, I’ve found them to be relatively hit or miss. The convenience factor is obviously a plus. No travel means lower costs, both financial and environmental, as well as less time potentially lost to travelling. Video presentations can also in theory be accessed later, relieving some of the time crunch of an in-person conference, at least if you’re organized enough to go back and watch more panels once the conference is over.
On the other hand, virtual conferences require a lot more organization to incorporate the spontaneous interactions of an in-person conference. Forced interaction in a Zoom breakout room is not the same as chance encounters at a conference. Sometimes you do find that spark in a Zoom room, but sometimes it’s missing.
The best “informal” encounter I’ve had to date in a virtual conference was during an early version of the AIFIS-MSU Conference on Indonesian Studies, a conference notable for having been conceived of as an online-only affair in order to achieve equitable participation by Indonesian and American scholars. Still in the midst of COVID, when a panel was going well, organizers allowed the conversation to continue past the panel’s allotted time so that attendees could chat more informally with presenters. This ensured that everyone in the Zoom room already had some level of similar interests and laid the groundwork for a conversation not based on ice breaker questions. This might be harder to organize, but I can imagine interest-based Zoom rooms as one way to organize socialization.
Again, this runs the risk of being too forced, which is where enhanced virtual profiles with research interests and other information that attendees can browse might be helpful. I’ve never taken advantage of these features at an online conference, but perhaps they’re working well for others.
Continuing in the realm of virtual conferences, one other mode that I recently heard about was explicitly designed around limiting the environmental effects of travel, in this case through a conference designed around zines. For DIY Methods, Researchers propose their topics, create a zine when accepted, and then copies of the zines are distributed to all participants and made available online. Again, this significantly cuts down on the chance encounters aspect of conferences. That said, it also provides a different way of communicating research and works in progress for those who may not be interested in communicating via another paper presentation but also aren’t ready yet to make the jump to a book chapter or article. I can also imagine a way for this to be expanded to include discussions from “attendees” about the zines.
At any rate, I’m here at ALA, but still not convinced by either in-person or virtual conferences. Have you seen any interesting iterations of conferences focused on inclusivity in some way, be it geographic, financial, or otherwise? If you were to redesign conferences, how would they work? Or, alternatively, just come say hi to me at ALA!
