Portland, Oregon | 45.51° N, 122.67° W | April 6th, 2023
“Okay, you have five minutes. Ready, set, go!”
As soon as I say the word “go”, dozens of conversations ignite like a match. Standing at the front of the small conference room, I watch 34 people (divided into pairs) talk animatedly with their partners. I smile, feeling an immense amount of relief and gratitude — I was hoping this would happen.
It’s Day One of Science Talk 23 in Portland, Oregon, and I’m honored to be leading one of the first workshops of the conference. The stories, activities, and topics we are discussing this morning center around the theme of professional evolution — specifically how to learn new communication skillsets and adapt to changes in our industry. Throughout the workshop, several attendees ask a myriad of questions about how to find resources or how to gain experience. But towards the end, a young man poses a more personal question.
“What’s a skill that you’re currently working on Marley?”
I spend a few seconds formulating my response.
“Doing this sort of thing,” I say. “I’m still relatively new to teaching, mentoring, and leading professional development trainings. I want to keep improving and developing my skills in this area.”
Even though this morning marks my first time leading a workshop, I feel good about it. Over the past month, I spent dozens of hours editing my slides, deciding which stories to share, and determining the most engaging activities to include. I wrote a blog post about it for the Association of Science Communicators website. I ran through my talking points again and again, and solicited feedback from trusted friends and colleagues.
It was a lot of work, but it was worth it.
At the end of the workshop, a few of the attendees approach me at the front of the room to ask more questions. I spend a few minutes chatting with them and then begin packing up my laptop and workshop materials, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction. Now that the number one item on my to-do list is officially checked off, I can relax a bit. For the next two days, my only goal is to enjoy being in the company of people who share my passion for this profession.
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When I gave a presentation on the main stage at Science Talk last year, one of the audience members asked, “do you ever feel lonely or isolated as a freelancer? How do you deal with that?”
My response was immediate. “Come to conferences like this one!”
Throughout my freelance career, there have been many moments (and long days) where I craved the things that come naturally when working alongside other science communicators: feedback, creativity, and a basic sense of camaraderie.
But I don’t long for any of those things right now. At this conference, the stoke for science – and creative endeavors related to science – is contagious. It’s impossible to not feel invigorated, inspired, and energized.
I love that this conference includes so many people from the Pacific Northwest but I’m also pleasantly surprised to see many people from North Carolina here. I chat briefly with Tamara Poles, Hannah Kania, and Mara Shurgot (all of whom are from Durham!)
While all of the talks and workshop sessions are informative and engaging, I think the real connections happen during the in-between times: coffee breaks, lunches, and happy hours. During the afternoon coffee break, I refill my mug, glance around the room, and see dozens of lively conversations taking place. I’m thrilled to observe people I know engaging with each other.
After Joy Kays gives his presentation on recording audio, I see him exchange info with Jordan. I smile, knowing exactly what they’re talking about. I introduce Jamie Zaccaria to Alli and Kiki. Gina Errico sits down to chat with me about her future career plans.
I meet a friendly and down-to-earth woman by the name of Cora Siebert. When she tells me she collects data on volcanoes in Alaska with the USGS, my eyes go wide. We talk about the challenging and invigorating nature of working in volcanic terrain, and I tell her about my long-standing dream to work with scientists in Alaska. I ask if she has any pointers when it comes to connecting with folks in northern latitudes.
“You should check out the Sitka Sound Science Center,” she says. “I could put you in touch with Ron Heinz or Lisa Busch.”
I make a note in my phone and thank Cora for the info.
It’s wonderful to see familiar faces from last year, and I enjoy chatting with Camille Collette and Jordan. It’s also invigorating to meet new people. I chat with three different young women from NOAA.
Emily Iskin is one of many awesome people I chat with during the coffee break. She says the thing that resonated with her most during my workshop was my willingness to share stories about times when I messed up – the times where I felt insecure or incompetent.
“That level vulnerability is really powerful,” she says. “I think science needs more of that.”
Our conversation shifts from badass women in science to badass endeavors in the mountains. I want to visit her in Idaho, and I wish I could spend much more time talking with her, but we’re already heading back into the main auditorium to see the next speaker. That’s one of the only drawbacks of this conference — too many awesome people. Not enough time.
Over the course of the two days, five or six different people approach me to chat about something I covered during the workshop, or to tell me they have signed up signed up for my online course. I’m amazed by the diversity of backgrounds and locations. In just a few hours, I meet folks from Hawaii, Colorado, Canada, Florida, and Portugal.
Chatting about my upcoming online course is yet another reminder of what makes this organization so special. It’s not just this annual conference — the Association of Science Communicators works diligently to provide year-round events and opportunities that include both professional development and a strong sense community.
It’s an honor to be a part of it.