Conference Day

Written on Friday, Feb 16, 2017 about an event on Thursday, Feb 15, 2017

*I will refrain from using names for the specific conference and persons mentioned in this post

I’ve attended a total of 5 politically connected, academic conferences in my life; 2 JSA (Junior Statesmen of America), 1 MUN (Model United Nations), the 13th Annual Western Regional International Health Conference (@Univeristy of Washington 2016), and as of yesterday, a conference regarding human rights and security.

This one I most recently participated in was the most disorganized I’ve ever witnessed. Highly behind schedule, with several ill-prepared speakers (but who am I to judge, I’ve never been a panelist myself). Ultimately, I wasn’t too impressed by the conference day one. I heard a lot of the same unproductive discussion that I hear in human rights settings–a lot of “we need to do more,” “come together,” etc. To me, this doesn’t help move us any further from the issues at hand. We need concrete ideas for solutions, and we need to communicate these with the various types of personalities that don’t already have a strong initial interest in global issues and discourse. Similar to the literary concept of “show don’t tell,” we need to outline and show HOW to make change, not simply reiterate that change needs to be made. As frustrated as I was with this element of the day, I did find significant value in a couple of the panelists presentations. One assistant professor during the latter portion of the program gave a particularly interesting talk. Her choice of words were configured in an igniting way; they clicked with how I like to write, but with a much higher level of thinking and academic grounding. Very intelligent, yet words that were artfully strung. I was nodding my head and listening and scrawling notes as she spit her knowledge. My heart was beating so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if you could see it through my dress. I felt electricity to the ends of my nerves, marrow running through my bones, blood flushing the loops of my ears, I had to engage with her perspective. As she took her seat from the platform the panel facilitator moved to a Q + A session. 2 questions were posed by audience participants and then they asked for another. They were looking for students, none had spoken and this was the 3rd session of the day. I’d wanted to speak after the first round of panelists but due to the schedule there was not enough time. So I’d been itching to discuss some concepts since the beginning of the day. Breathing slowly as to chill my heart rate, I rose my hand to ask a question. Eyes quickly shifted to the youthful hand in the air and it was my turn to speak. I clicked on my “seat A” microphone and spoke: “Mitra LeBuhn, I’m a student with SIT,” and continued with a more collected than anticipated paragraph of lead-in and Q. The initial portion of my question had been triggered during a morning speech, and extended as inspired by this woman’s words. I said something along the lines of “What you mentioned about the borders, both physical and figurative, seems to connect closely to what was previously discussed today about the need for solidarity and compassion; I think these concepts are something that likely resonate with the types of people in this room, those that would choose to attend a conference regarding human rights, but how do you suggest we guide the diverse range of personalities in our global community to permeate those borders?” The response was interesting, but not in line with exactly what I was asking for. I approached the speaker afterwards and attempted to reframe my question in a clearer way. I think I got my point across, and we ended up connecting on Facebook which was a cool moment for me. Ultimately, although the day was disorganized and irritating at times, I felt satisfied with the outcome. After my effort and engagement, the thoughts provoked by a handful of the panelists, having my first experience asking a question in a formal conference setting, and the speakers repeated remarks on compassion, I felt full.