In this blog, I offer an autoethnographical account of what it means for TV scholars to take part in the conference continuum, which I argue is both familiar and strange in every iteration. Whether you are an ardent follower of certain large-scale conferences, or a serial “dipper in” to a plethora of small-scale events, you might not realise how to “find your fit” – when you turn up, dust off your boots, and reach for the microphone or traverse the catwalk.

“Picture it” (thank you Sofia of The Golden Girls), it’s March 2006, a young UK academic (OK he was 46, but I had only just passed my PhD) takes the brave leap to attend an international conference, NEMLA, hosted by Temple University in Philadelphia, USA. After a kerfuffle where I had booked the wrong Marriott hotel (how could I have booked the one at the airport!), all is sorted, and I am settling into the first full day of the conference. I hear about an LGBTQ+ social meet up in the evening, and I timidly ensconce myself in a conference room within a sea of unknown queer academics. I join a table, attempting to socialise, mixing with around four or five attendees. The conversation goes well, and seems aimable, gradually however, over the course of about 10 minutes, all these potential new friends inexplicably migrate to the other side of the room to the buffet table.  I am left isolated, apparently abandoned. I consider leaving the event, to lick my wounds. However, I decide to saunter slowly down to the other end of the room and join the others (again), lean over the vol-au-vents and attempt to re-socialise, musing the idea that we all need a proper evening meal. Flash forward one hour, and practically everyone in this room is now enroute (me included) walking through the snowy streets of Philadelphia to a proper downtown restaurant, later having a cordial time that will never be forgotten.

Attending conferences is the life blood of the academic research world, but often it is a subjective experience, that depends on your perception of fitting in with the other delegates. At conferences we keep ourselves up to date, we make connections, we build alliances, and potentially have a good time. We may choose conferences based on the conference theme, on who’s attending, or the merit of the location.

As TV scholars there are many conferences to choose from, including this year CST’s own slow conference. Overall though, I have mostly attended: Console-ing Passions, MeCCSA, NEMLA, PCA, SCMS and Screen. But as a TV scholar, who is increasingly experimenting with interdisciplinary approaches, it’s great to wander off-piste, and be adventurous. For example earlier this year I attended ASEN and Media Frictions respectively in Edinburgh (UK) and Jönköping (Sweden). Although in the former I felt a bit like an imposter (as I am not an expert in nationalism), and in the latter I felt that I had returned home allowing me to connect with so many esteemed colleagues, both experiences were equally inspiring, allowing me to recharge my batteries.

At conferences you meet new colleagues or publishers, and you develop projects together. For example, I was drawn to Margaret Cooper’s paper at PCA San Francisco (2008), approached her after she spoke, and we theorised what became LGBT Identity and Online New Media. Likewise when I met Gillian Leslie at the Edinburgh University Press stand at Screen (2012), her supportiveness and interest stimulated me to develop my book Straight Girls and Queer Guys. Likewise meeting CST’s own Kim Akass at CP Bloomington only this year, while sharing great TV and academic world conversations, led me to develop this blog!

I have a special place in my heart for Screen as it was there that I presented my first academic paper, in 2004, and it’s such a welcoming experience for new and old academics alike, allied with its seminal journal. I also have a fondness for Console-ing Passions, as this was the first ever conference that I attended, hosted by The University of Bristol in 2001, when I was an MA student there at the time, and also, I had the fortune to co-host CP at Bournemouth University in 2018.

This year at CP Bloomington, the opening plenary was a piece of performance art by Beatrice Capote. This must be one of the most memorable plenaries ever, alongside the Ageing and Social Change conference at the University of California, Berkeley in 2011, where an attendee sang and played a guitar for his presentation ‘A Tree is Like a Brain’, in the style of Lou Reed, in framing issues of dementia. Beatrice however got us to participate in the performance and reflect on what we had experienced as academics. Later in my conference posse we theorised the difference between resilience and persistence, as if framing our struggle to gain promotion, find acceptance, and deliver the best quality research, at the same time relishing the positive conference experience, where there is communion, empathy and generosity.

Also, sometimes the feedback can provide a deeper learning experience.  I remember one conference panel (to be nameless), where the chair (also presenting) indicated that our approaches were diametrically opposed, and I felt reduced by it. However, through the process of reflection, I better understood the context and the value of diverse perspectives, within the conference experience.

Here are ten musings, garnered over the years:

  1. If you are a panel chair, make sure you research who the panel are, nobody wants to introduce themselves, this is a special event.
  2. Do you really need that video clip, I abandoned these years ago, they inevitably take up too much time (or go wrong), and surely you are the attraction.
  3. Stick to the time provided (usually 15 or 20 minutes), you are only stealing time from others.
  4. You may be lucky and get a full house, but don’t be depressed if it’s a no show. This was a great opportunity to share your work, even if it’s just with the panel.
  5. Don’t be a panel hopper, it’s “not cool” to just drop in for your favourite speaker.
  6. Please don’t abandon a presentation if you decide it’s not up to scratch, they may be warming up, and if they are students, do you really want to destroy their self-esteem?
  7. Don’t be upset when your conference mate can’t attend your paper, even after you attended theirs. Afterall, the conference offers a fleeting moment of new research interactions, that should be taken advantage of.
  8. Don’t ask complicated questions that are ill conceived, you might be grandstanding – the spotlight is not on you.
  9. Enjoy your conference posse, but don’t be exclusive, you are here to make new friends.
  10. Most of all – be yourself, don’t be afraid if you make mistakes, or trip up, we all do.

Attending your favourite conference presenting your conventional work, can be like slipping on an old pair of walking boots, your travel is comfortable, you are well balanced and on track. Sometimes though, taking a risk in attending an unfamiliar conference or trying a new approach at your regular conference, can feel like trying to walk in a new pair of expensive high heels, you might appear glorious, but you might be overreaching, and you might be off balance. That said risk taking is at the heart of the academic experience. Remember that moment when Carrie from Sex and the City falls on the runway, after wearing impossible shoes, Carrie Bradshaw’s resilience demonstrates comfort in the self. Despite having impossibly beautiful clothes (and shoes), there is a willingness to accept what happens and recover in that moment – as Carrie affirms (to a back track of “Got to be Real by Cheryl Lynn”): “You get right back up and keep on walking”.

When is the next conference? … Are there any direct flights? … Who else is attending?  … Surely, I can fit everything into one bag, to save the airline costs?  Now where are the Manolo Blahniks.

 

Dr Christopher Pullen is Associate Professor in Media and Inclusivity at Bournemouth University.  He is widely published in the areas of sexuality, media representation and performance, including the books Straight Girls and Queer Guys: The Hetero Media Gaze in Film and Television (Edinburgh University Press 2016), Heroism, Celebrity and Therapy in Nurse Jackie (Routledge 2018) and Pedro Zamora, Sexuality and AIDS Education: The Autobiographical Self, Activism and The Real World (Cambria Press 2018).  He completed a recent British Academy funded project which focused on the experiences of LGBT refugees in the UK who engage with NGO help services, presenting evidence to the UK government Women and Equalities Select Committee.  His current research focusses on HIV/AIDS folk art and digital memorial, engaging with autoethnography, and the dynamics of social and cultural space.