Tag: career

  • When Not Everyone Speaks “Event”:  Lessons in Patience and Perspective

    When Not Everyone Speaks “Event”: Lessons in Patience and Perspective

    It’s been a while since I’ve posted. The beginning of the semester is always busy, but this year has been more so than others. I’ve taken on a new position, Faculty Lead, and one of my responsibilities is a new course titled “First Year Experience”. This course is for all the first-time Freshmen in the School of Business, there are 202 of them. It is the brainchild of my esteemed colleague Kristine Kelley, and is aimed at helping Freshmen acclimatize to the College environment. The course runs one hour a week for 15 weeks and covers topics like professionalism, time management, self-awareness and mindfulness.

    Why am I telling you about this course? The course is set up like 14 weekly events, which is my wheelhouse. It has been quite a learning experience for me in that it’s been quite some time since I worked with non-event professionals or students. I waiver between wanting to handhold my colleagues through the process, like I would with students, or expecting them to know what needs to be done. Neither of these approaches is productive, leading to frustration on my part and likely on my colleagues as well.

    As any event professional worth their salt, I am constantly evaluating the course and my approach.  So, what have I learned so far?  First creating an event for 200+ people that focuses on creating a community as well as helping them navigate their first year is difficult.  Endicott College prides itself on having small classes, which I love, but it means we are severely limited on the spaces we can use for this number of students.  The spaces we can use are either set up in theater-style, making interaction difficult, or very open, making it loud and difficult to hear.  Second, how do we keep 200+ 18-year-olds engaged for 50 minutes with a limited staff (16 people)?  The key component of this class is not to lecture at the students, instead we want to have an interactive experience.  Third, how do we provide content that is meaningful in an interactive way and assess them?  We need to be able to assess how effective the content is without giving them another paper to write.  Specifically, we want to give them something that encourages reflection and awareness.  At the moment I don’t have an answer to these questions, I would love to hear opinions.

    Personally, I have learned that I need to be clearer in my communication and expectations.  I also need to learn not to get frustrated when people question my decisions.  I have spent the better part of my life justifying my career choice as being substantive, which explains part of my frustration when working with non-event people.  In my class I harp on being open-minded and not taking offence to a client who micro-manages; it’s clear I need to heed my own advice.

    As the title states, I need to remind myself we are all on the same team even though we have different perspectives.  The hard part for me, I can hear my family laughing already, is patience.  It was pointed out to me long ago that I have no patience, instead I have discipline.  It’s time to start using it.

  • Dear Media:  Event Professionals Deserve Better

    Dear Media:  Event Professionals Deserve Better

    Now that I’ve gotten off my soapbox about Astroworld and risk management, I thought I would offer a rant on how others perceive the events industry.  This has been a constant source of aggravation in my adult life, and I know I’m not the only one.  Early in my career when I told people I was an event planner, I would get one of two responses: “what is that”; or, “that must be fun”.  I thought when I got my PhD it would change, and it did a little.  Now I get “you can get a degree in that”. 

    I’ve thought a lot about why people either don’t know about the industry or don’t understand it.  There are several reasons, but I think they can be boiled down to two primary reasons.  The first is that people who are familiar with events being a career it’s because they have known someone who has been involved in planning events.  This is usually through their job, where someone is responsible for planning events.  So, they know it is a job, but have no understanding of what goes into it.  I believe that is due to the fact that when they arrive at an event, they see the end result only.  They don’t see the months/years of work that goes into it.  Event professionals are experts at making things look flawless, even when things go wrong.

    The second reason is the way the events industry are portrayed in the media. The Netflix documentary Trainwreck. The Astroworld Tragedy, is the latest in a long history of the events industry being portrayed negatively.   When I say “media” I don’t just mean documentaries, but also news outlets and popular media (sitcoms).  Most news outlets today focus on sensational stories, the phrase “if it bleeds, it leads” is well earned.  This means that news stories focus on things like Astroworld, Woodstock 99, the Las Vegas shootings, and many more.  It is common when something bad at an event for media within the industry to reach out for my comments.  It is extremely uncommon for other news outlets to do the same.  The interview that I did with NewsNation Prime was the first time this happened.  When I watch coverage of these types of stories, I never see an event professional as someone that was included.  This leads to incorrect conclusions.  For example, there was a shooting at a Garlic Festival in California shortly after the Route 91 shooting in Las Vegas.  A man cut through a chain link fence to enter at the back of the festival and opened fire.  On-duty police, who were at the event, responded within a minute and ended the violence within 2 minutes.  This was horrific, but is it reasonable to plan for someone to cut through a fence?  I can confidently say it is not reasonable; which was my response to the question “what did organizers do wrong?”.  If someone is determined to do evil, they will find a way.  It is clear to me organizers had a strong plan in place based on the response time; this is a good thing.  This is not an isolated incident, when you look at any reporting of tragedies at events, there are a lot of judgments based on having the whole story.

    If the media isn’t portraying the events industry negatively, they are making fun of it.  Think about shows like Friends, or The Big Bang Theory, there are numerous references to being a “party planner”.  It is always in a dismissive way, suggesting that it is a joke, not a real job.  The movie The Wedding Planner put events on the map; I had so many students state that movie as the reason they wanted to be in events.  You have heard the sayings “any publicity is good publicity”, and “there’s no such thing as bad press”.  I wholeheartedly disagree with these statements because if the portrayal is wrong, which is the case, it’s even harder to correct people.

    I understand many people, including myself, “fell” into the industry.  That doesn’t mean we haven’t spent our careers learning our craft.  Anyone who is an event professional has spent hours in education through associations or courses, conversations with each other, and learning from their mistakes through deep evaluation.  Even when an event is successful these professionals will strive to find ways to be better.  I wish the media would focus on this side of the industry.

  • Passion and Profession: My Life in Event Management

    Passion and Profession: My Life in Event Management

    I’ve always been an event professional—long before I even knew it was a profession. I was the one who organized everything: school dances, parties, sports tournaments—if something needed organizing, I stepped in. I loved the challenge and thrived on the recognition that came with a job well done. Growing up in a traditional, old-fashioned family, my ambitions were often dismissed and ridiculed. I was constantly told I should want something “normal,” and any deviation from that was met with criticism. I’m sharing this because it helps explain why I’ve spent the last 30 years studying, working in, and advocating for the events industry.

    My professional journey began in 1994 at the University of Guelph, where I worked part-time as a secretary for an environmental computer science professor. One day, after returning from a conference, he told me he’d agreed—along with two European colleagues—to host an international conference. They needed someone to manage it. I had no experience, but the promise of a trip to Whistler, British Columbia, for me and my family was enough to get me to say “yes.”

    Over the next eight months, I undertook all the aspects of planning a conference—from negotiating hotel contracts and managing registrations to creating schedules and coordinating transportation. All this with just a desktop computer, dial-up internet, and a fax machine. I felt grossly unqualified and made plenty of mistakes, like booking hotel rooms for attendees who left early meaning the organization had to pay. But I discovered something even more valuable: I loved the work.

    From 1994 to 2010, I worked as an international conference manager, traveling to Australia, New Zealand, Austria, Italy, the U.S., and Switzerland, among others. I “fell” into a career I hadn’t known existed, and being a natural researcher, I began digging into the field. I found associations, and educational opportunities that deepened my understanding and expanded my network. Although I lived in a small town and couldn’t attend regular association meetings, I went to annual conferences where I finally found a community that understood me. These professionals didn’t just speak my language—they lived it and accepted me.

    Those experiences inspired me to formalize my training. I earned a Special Event Coordinator certification from the Ontario government, completed an Event Management certificate through George Washington University, and eventually enrolled in their Master of Tourism Administration (MTA) program. Going back to school as a single parent with a full-time, travel-heavy job was no small feat. But I loved what I was learning and earned my degree in 2007.

    After graduating, I worked as a teaching assistant in the MTA program and attended an alumni event where a professor encouraged me to pursue a PhD. A week later, I had submitted my application to the University of Waterloo’s Recreation and Leisure Studies program—at his insistence. I was at a crossroads: continue as an event professional and possibly start my own company; or pivot toward education. As much as I respect entrepreneurs, I never had the desire to be one. Teaching allowed me to combine my love of events with my passion for research and mentoring. I completed my PhD in 2.5 years—1.5 years faster than average in Canada.

    When I joined the faculty at Endicott College, I found the perfect fit. I could teach, research, and still plan events. I developed a risk management process for events, traveled to speak about it, and eventually published a book. I also deepened my involvement with industry associations and grew my global network.

    Today, I continue to study the events industry not just because it’s my profession, but because it’s my passion. It has shaped my life, challenged me, inspired me—and given me a place where I finally feel I belong.

    I know there are many more people out there with a similar experience and would love to hear your story. Maybe we can encourage others to become more active.

  • Rethinking Work-Life Balance: A Generational Perspective

    Rethinking Work-Life Balance: A Generational Perspective

    Over the past year, I’ve had numerous conversations with students about work-life balance. While it’s far from a new topic, the recent surge in curiosity has been a bit puzzling. As a geek, I decided to dig a little deeper into why this topic seems to matter more than ever.

    I’m part of the generational bridge between Baby Boomers and Gen X. That in-between space might explain why I view work-life balance differently than many of today’s students. I was raised with the belief that work was what you did to pay the bills. There was a very clear separation between your professional responsibilities and your personal life. Most jobs were nine-to-five, and no one expected you to take your work home. That’s not to say we didn’t care about doing a good job—but our jobs didn’t define us. Work was what we did, not who we were.

    As society evolved, so did I—especially when it came to the expectations placed on women. I grew up in a time when the standard path for a woman was to get married and focus on her family. Careers weren’t really part of the plan. In fact, my generation was one of the first to be actively encouraged to pursue post-secondary education. We didn’t have many female role models in leadership, and the underlying message was clear: family came first.

    I followed that path and got married. But when it became apparent that my husband couldn’t financially support us, I had to find a job that would allow us to get ahead.  After bouncing around a few jobs, I became an international conference planner—and found something unexpected: I loved working. It wasn’t just a necessity; it became a source of identity and fulfillment. I was fortunate to encounter strong, inspiring female mentors who taught me that wanting more than the traditional role of wife and mother wasn’t just okay—it was powerful. I realized that I spent far too many hours working to not enjoy and find meaning in what I did.

    So, how does this all relate to work-life balance? For me, the concept was not a consideration. I didn’t just have a job—I had a passion. I loved the challenges, the growth, the community, and the opportunity to make a difference. That passion led me to dive deeper into the events industry. I joined professional associations, earned two certificates, and eventually completed both a Master’s and Doctorate.

    When you Google “work-life balance,” you’ll find countless definitions. Most can be distilled down to one core idea: separating the stress of work from the things that matter most to you. But what happens when work is one of those things that matter most? When your career isn’t a burden, but a source of joy?

    This brings me to what I see in younger generations today. They’ve been raised to follow their passion, to seek careers that are meaningful and fulfilling. And yet, we’re still telling them: “Do what you love—but not more than 40 hours a week.” That’s a confusing and, frankly, contradictory message.

    If you truly love what you do—and ideally, we all should—then maybe work-life balance shouldn’t be about separation at all. Maybe it’s time to rethink the whole idea.  What if balance isn’t about dividing your time evenly between work and life? What if it’s about alignment—ensuring that how you spend your time reflects your values, your passions, and your goals?  For some, that might mean clear boundaries and rigid schedules. For others, it might mean embracing the blur between work and life because both bring purpose and joy. There’s no one-size-fits-all answer.

    And maybe that’s the point.