I’m just back from Edible Institute in Santa Barbara, a 4-day gathering of food magazine editors and publishers, foodies and locavores. My people. The conference had two parts: an informational meeting for folks who own and publish Edible magazines (there are nearly 80 of them throughout the country), and an issue-oriented conference for those interested in local food.
I was thrilled to present two sessions during the editors/publishers’ meeting, where I shared strategies and tips for making the editorial process run smoothly. It was an incredible experience. And I discovered that by teaching, I learned a ton.
Presenting = giving. I was super nervous about this presentation. If you’ve been to a HOW Design Conference in the past decade, you may know that in my host role, I’d welcome participants to the event. But let me tell you: Standing before 4,000 people to say a quick ‘hello’ wasn’t nearly as knee-knocking as presenting—with slides and handouts and everything—to 40.
My session targeted an audience of Edible editors and publishers, nearly none of whom had magazine experience. Magazine experience I have in spades. So I worked very hard to prepare a professional-looking Keynote presentation (with slide backgrounds created by talented designer Jill Anderson).
Most important, I aimed to share a ton of great information. I approached the presentation from a position of giving; I knew that the attendees struggled with getting their magazines produced, and I knew I could help. An opening slide read, “My goal is to minimize your pain.” I shared “insider secrets” for producing a magazine. And people told me throughout the weekend how much they valued what I had to offer.
Presentation is rooted in the word ‘present.’ This has a double meaning: 1) give freely of your time, expertise, information, ideas, and 2) be there, be fully engaged.
Presenting inspires clarity. As you gather information to share during a workshop or conference presentation, you dig deep into the material. The process of researching, organizing and editing clarifies your own thinking about the subject. When you have to explain how something works or decipher a complex topic—particularly a subject that you’re very familiar with—you have to look at it from the perspective of a novice and make the information accessible to everyone.
I stuck around after my presentations (back-to-back sessions on Friday) for the rest of the weekend’s program. And I’m glad I did. After expending a lot of creative energy Friday, it was great to recoup that by listening to inspiring speakers from the food community.
We need to refill regularly. As creative professionals, we pour ourselves into our work. No matter how rewarding the project, it still takes from us. And we need to make time to refill. That’s why conferences rock. Being among your peers, among people with shared passions, among people you can learn from—the energy boost is immeasurable. It’s hard to allocate time and funds to attend an event like Edible Institute or HOW Design Live (use my discount code BRYN if you’d like to register for the Creative Freelancer Conference).
Maybe it’s not a big conference every year. But it’s critical to refill the well regularly, whether it’s by attending a conference or a smaller, local gathering that can inspire you.
We can make a difference. One of the highlights of Edible Institute was Marion Nestle’s keynote presentation. Dr. Nestle is a nutritionist and one of the nation’s leading voices advocating for healthier diets and changes to our food economy. In our current socio-political-economic climate, where supersize portions are the norm (did you know that a Double Gulp soda has 800 calories, nearly half our daily intake?), food labels are deliberately misleading and food companies are ever-pressured to deliver shareholder value, “it’s impossible for people to practice personal responsibility.” But we’re not stuck. We have a lot of power as individuals to spark change. We can “vote with our forks” by choosing healthful foods, supporting local growers and producers, and sharing our tables with family and neighbors.
“Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what’s for lunch.”
— Orson Welles