My Why

Shortly after learning what the word "abstract" meant in the context of an event, I found myself buried among canvas tote bags in Meeting Room 204 of the Westin Diplomat in Hollywood, Florida, in 2012. Something I thought only existed as food on Thanksgiving was actually a common practice among meeting planners—I was “stuffing” these tote bags with printed programs, advertisements, pens, notepads, and informational brochures.

Once all fifteen hundred bags were full, I followed my senior colleague to the attendee registration area, where she revealed four card boxes filled and alphabetized with all fifteen hundred pre-printed attendee badges. She explained how important it was to keep these card boxes very organized because badge retrieval would get busy, and searching for misplaced badges would result in a long line and angry attendees. Noted, I thought; very organized.

She pointed to another area where the boxed lunches would be displayed. “Some are vegetarian, some are marked as kosher. Here’s the list of attendees who registered for those special lunch boxes.” Dietary preferences on registration forms existed back then, but in limited form.

After some additional notes and checking on all of the active meeting rooms throughout the hotel, my colleague led me back to the staff room where we first started. “Traci, these attendees are the world’s best psychopharmacologists. They have their MDs and PhDs—they lead world-renowned research. Many of them have been coming to this meeting for ten, twenty, thirty years! They expect us to help them when needed. We are here to ensure they have a smooth experience.”

I started to sweat. Doctors. Thirty years. World’s BEST?!

Registration opened, and badge retrieval began. My senior colleague made it look so effortless. She knew nearly every attendee, and for those she didn’t, she made sure to find out something about them during the check-in process. She kept the badge box perfectly organized, searching, selecting, and sliding the badge into the badge holder with ease.

I tried to imitate her as best I could. I fumbled at times. A few people had the same name—what are the chances?! When asked about CME credit, I froze. “Um, CME credit. Yes.” My colleague stepped right in and carried on with the attendee about continuing education. Aside from these few instances, I found myself enjoying the chaos. The attendees were polite, happy, kind, and eager to get to know me. Once I found my stride, the remainder of my time at the meeting went well. (I’m sure if you asked the Director of Meetings, she likely recorded many opportunities for improvement.) But for a novice like me, I thought it went swimmingly.

A few weeks after the meeting concluded, one of the association’s members visited our office. He shared a sensitive story about his sister, who experienced schizophrenia. He described her life, including her challenges and victories. He said his sister is why he does what he does, and he emphasized that the work we did for the association not only directly helped members but also helped the people that the members serve.

And then it clicked. This is why association and event staff exist—for our sisters, our sons and daughters, our best friends, and our mothers.

Earlier this year, my dad experienced three code blues over the course of his sixty-day hospital stay. We thought we lost him, not once but three times. He suffered the “largest ulcer” the tenured gastroenterologist had seen in his 28-year career, which resulted in the internal bleeding that almost killed him. He then found himself infected with MRSA after a diagnosis from the infectious disease specialist. His experience involved emergency nurses, surgeons, specialists, case managers, veteran affairs, and every medical-related professional in between.

While sitting in the hospital waiting room, I ran through his list of complications, and the names of various organizations began popping up in my head, many of which I’ve worked with over the past decade. I was thankful for those organizations and their meetings where their members come together to share their knowledge and experiences. And it clicked: this is why I do what I do. This is why we greet attendees with a smile, a hello, and a tote bag. This is why we ensure attendees have a comfortable experience with private spaces, new experiences, or food that fits their dietary needs. This is why we keep our badge boxes perfectly organized—for our fathers, too.