The Barefoot Event Professor

Tag: life

  • Learning to Say “No”: You’re Allowed to Draw the Line.

    Learning to Say “No”: You’re Allowed to Draw the Line.

    It’s been a while, but I’m back and I’m pulling out my soapbox again.  This time it’s about customer service, so buckle up.

    We’ve all heard the phrase “the customer is always right” and we know it’s a load of crap. Sometimes the customer is so wrong we can’t even understand them; but we have been trained to accommodate them.  We suck it up, smile and do what they asked because we believe this is the way to make them happy.  Not an unreasonable thought, we are in the service industry.  Let’s examine this idea a little more.

    To be clear, I think this is a ridiculous expectation of service professionals.  It makes us feel demoralized when we are doing our best.  So where did this come from?  Of course I put on my research hat, I love an excuse to research, and dove into the origins.

    The phrase is most often attributed to Harry Selfridge in 1905 and Cesar Ritz in 1908, department store and hotel magnates, respectively. Back then, businesses operated under “caveat emptor” (buyer beware). Businesses made what they wanted and marketed it however they liked, misleading claims included, leaving customers to fend for themselves. Selfridge and Ritz’s phrase was revolutionary because it broke from that; it gave customers some power with the intention of improving the relationship.

    Sounds great, right?  So how did we get to a point where customers are taking advantage of the idea?  We got here because we moved from being customer centric to customer obedient.  Customer centric is based in market research and considers the entire target market and industry.  Customer obedient is based in satisfying individuals, without considering the impact on employees, service level, or profits.

    There are a lot of articles written on the idea of “the customer is always right”; most of which agree that it has gone too far.  The main problems with the current execution of this phrase is the creation of entitled customers, the potential impact on profits and the effect on employees.  We have all heard customers use the phrase, or variations of it, to get what they want.  There is an expectation that if something is wrong with the service, they will get something to offset it, usually free.  A great example of this is in restaurants, it is common for food to be comped when a service failure has occurred and when it isn’t customers get mad, usually posting negative reviews on social media. 

    Giving customers comped items can affect profit margins.  I’m not saying businesses should never comp things; I’m saying that businesses need to create a policy that outlines situations when this should happen and what can be offered.  A lot of times a genuine apology is enough to satisfy customers.

    The effect on employees is the most problematic issue, it can be demoralizing.  I’ve been in situations where the customer is complaining about, or asking for, something that is not warranted and had to give it to them.  Once I had an attendee show up at a conference that had not pre-paid.  I quoted the on-site registration fee and he got furious saying that I had to give him the early bird rate.  I explained that rate had closed a month prior and that he needed to pay the on-site fee.  He accused me of cheating him and demanded to see my boss, which is absolutely his right.  My boss came out and the attendee explained that he didn’t want to pay the on-site registration, instead he wanted the early bird fee.  My boss agreed, the attendee gave me a smug look, and I executed the transaction.  I was so mad at my boss for undercutting me, so I reminded myself it wasn’t my event and that I had done my job with the attendee.  I now needed to do my job with my boss.  I explained to him giving the attendee the lower rate was going to impact our profits because the fee was $200 lower.  He told me that wasn’t that bad, so I continued to explain the loss of the fee was significant because now I had to make changes to the event that were not covered in the original contract and would cost us money.  I also told him that by not backing me up he had given the impression that I didn’t have authority to make decisions and could be challenged.  He did apologize and going forward we had a very strict policy on registration fees.  I was lucky that I had a strong relationship with my boss and could have this conversation.  There are businesses that do not want to have the conversation.  For example, one of my first jobs was at McDonalds where “the customer is always right” was sacrosanct.  I had so many customers return food that had a “problem” and we were to apologize and give them a replacement right away.  That also frustrated me because customers would return burgers that had 1-2 bites left and get a new one.  It frustrated me because it was clear they were taking advantage of the policy.  Sometimes they would be polite, but more often they were rude, which is always difficult to deal with.  When employees must do something they know isn’t right, it becomes demoralizing.  This can lead to burnout, turnover, lower service quality, and more service failures; all of which is not good for business as it leads to higher personnel costs.

    Here’s the thing, we haven’t actually retired “the customer is always right”. We’ve just rebranded it. In a lot of workplaces now it shows up wearing a different outfit: “yes, and” instead of “no”.

    You can watch both versions collide in real time if you rewatch the Fyre Festival documentaries (and I know most of you have, and got as mad as I did). The vendors weren’t just being customer-obedient to Billy McFarland’s every demand, they were also operating inside a “yes, and” culture that never left room for anyone to say “this cannot be done”. One of my favourite parts is when the “event professionals” (I use the quotation marks because they clearly were not professionals) complained about not getting paid. My opinion is that some of them shouldn’t have been paid, they should have said “no, this cannot be done” instead.

    “Yes, and” comes from improv theatre, and on its own it’s a genuinely great idea. I LOVE this concept and have used it a lot in my classes and with myself to really explore ideas. I also think it can be used very effectively in the events industry; it can lead to wonderful ideas and solutions as well as collaboration amongst teams. Where I think we drop the ball is believing we can never say “no”. Sometimes an idea is a bad one, and shouldn’t be done. I see this most with risk management, there are times when the answer is “no”. We should offer the reason behind the decision and listen to ideas, but we should also be prepared to stand our ground. If you’re in a situation where someone is in danger, or where the ask is against compliance or law, you should say “no”.

    High-quality service and genuinely happy customers happen when boundaries are set, not when every demand is met. My boss and I could have avoided that whole registration mess with one clear “no” and a policy to back it up. The Fyre Festival vendors could have avoided a documentary’s worth of humiliation with the same word. Employees and customers both do better when they know what to expect.

    So learn to say “no”. Your team, your service quality, and honestly your own sanity will thank you. Okay, I’m getting off my soapbox. Thank you for listening.

  • 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.