Until I attended my first MLA convention in 2012, I always imagined that it would be a stressful, competitive, and overwhelming experience. Instead, I found it to be collegial and stimulating, and I’m happy to be participating more deeply in MLA 2013.
Admittedly, my first-time experience was probably atypical. I wasn’t interviewing for a coveted faculty position–not because I already had one, but because I was working at a grantmaking organization in New York City and had no intentions of pursuing a position in the professoriate. What may come as more of a surprise is that I wasn’t even presenting. I had missed the deadline to submit a proposal, and simply wanted a chance to dive back into the humanities after three years immersed in an organization that focused on science and technology. My employer was willing to cover part of the convention expenses as part of their training and development package, so I headed to Seattle with the hope that I’d be able to make the most of my time there.
I happily found that the convention exceeded my expectations. While the lack of interview or presentation pressure certainly ensured that the convention would be far less stressful for me than I had pictured it as a grad student, my enjoyment of it stemmed from something else: engagement. I had been quietly blogging in the months leading up to the convention, and I had also been using Twitter to follow a number of insightful and thought-provoking people. I slowly shifted from lurking and listening to participating in conversations about higher education and alternative academic careers, and by the time January rolled around, there were many people that I looked forward to meeting in person.
My positive experience won’t surprise anyone who has found social media to be a valuable professional tool. Indeed, many others have written about the ways that Twitter helps to make such a large gathering feel smaller and more meaningful. During the sessions, I participated in backchannel conversations that led to deeper and more extensive discussions long after the meeting’s end. I’m quite introverted and have never felt particularly comfortable chatting up strangers at conventions, so the ongoing virtual interactions eased me into networking in a way that I had never really experienced before.
This year, I’m happy to be returning to the convention with a much clearer sense of what to expect. In addition to the many panels I hope to attend, I’ll also be presenting at two sessions (one on photography and elegy, and another on graduate education reform). There are people I look forward to seeing again, others I hope to meet, and many more that I don’t know but may encounter in unanticipated and meaningful ways. By focusing on a few sessions, engaging in virtual and face-to-face conversations about them, and keeping some flexibility to allow for the unexpected, I hope that this year’s convention will be an even richer experience than the last.
