So I’ve just got back from Cardiff, where the sun shone on a collective1 of science communicators, performers, public engagement professionals, and other specialists in the loose field we use for ‘gainful employment’. For those unfamiliar with BIG, it is the UK’s STEM Communicator Network, (originally called the ‘Hands-On Group’, then the ‘British Interactive Group’, who specialised in museum prop building.)
Every year, they hold an event.2 Personally, there is never a thought that queries ‘why should I go this year?’ I just seem to. And this was my sixth trip out to spend three days with these adorable freaks and geeks. For the last few I’ve kind of taken a back seat; letting it swirl around me and sometimes choosing my sessions on a whim, with an Earl Grey in one hand and the unread programme already lost.
So why do I go at all? Well, I think I’ve just worked it out, for now at least. Habitually, I adopted my usual approach, and in the haze of spending minimal time thinking what I wanted from the event, I noticed something. I knew plenty of people there; many on a first name basis, with hugs heartily embraced. I mean, PLENTY of people. But it didn’t end there; I let that thought roam into pastures new.
There were evidently a lot of delegates who were nervously testing the ground of their first, even second BIG event. I’d been there; a BIG event can be a trifle overwhelming. In fact, I remember little of what hit me the first time I attended… I believe it was Oxford.3 An evolutionary process that started that first time, was still morphing. I’d just denied it. Hence, with three days ahead, no agenda, and a soft, bouncy castle of friends around me, I stopped thinking of myself as a delegate.
I felt transmogrified.
I was meant to be ‘the bouncy castle’ to these strangers with bamboozled souls.
Monopolising the informality of the tea station, I launched many conversations with, ‘Your first time? What do you want out of this event?’ And you’d be unsurprised by the array of initially unsure answers, followed by a clearer vision after some careful probing. So it became my duty to link these wishes, with the right(ish) person or organisation. ‘Ooo, you need to speak to [Whoever McWhoface]; let me introduce you.’ Before I had that the chance to consider this diversion as altruism, I was kicked by the realisation that this activity wasn’t at my expense; I was REALLY loving it! But why?
It’s possibly been said that I’ve always done that, but I’m very certain that everybody gets to where they deserve, on their own merit, and thanks purely to the hard work and devotion they put into propelling their careers forward. Even though I’ve always nonchalantly brushed off these thanks, it’s with admitting that I too have written previously about the people that took chances on me. I understand the need to acknowledge and thank the giants whose shoulders we have looked up to. But where does this place ‘me’ now? I wasn’t ready to embrace the philosophy of this metamorphosis.
As if to make matters worse, I’m sitting there, watching my long term collaborator, Sarah Bearchell deservedly receive the Beetlestone Award for lasting legacy in science communication. Wendy Sadler introduces her, describing seeing the serene island of Sarah’s Cloud Factory show in the tempest of the Big Bang Fair; a moment I remember vividly as I was just as excited to glimpse Wendy watching us perform. Then Sarah speaks, referencing the first times she worked with several people, including myself. These are things I’ve never thought of as contributing to someone’s legacy. I was a little overcome by emotion, clearly obvious to my nearby peers. But, I guess I did a thing, and I couldn’t be more proud to be thought of.4
If people are naming me for something I can remember but may have neglected to acknowledge as being useful, I’ve clearly been around a long time. But how long is ‘long’? When is ‘too long’?Am I becoming part of the ‘old guard’? Possibly. Although looking at them currently, I have a long career ahead of me. These gentlemen are testament to how you can grow old and not grow up. A more inspiring group of adults kids you are unlikely to meet.5
Is this just my next stage of transmogrification? Write it on the box; turn the dial? What next? I’d thought it was an inevitably ‘relevance-related, enforced’ early retirement? Let’s be honest, I’m an older, white, cis male with middle-age spread, so society will continue to become increasingly prejudiced towards me, blind to my efforts to support as many diverse people as possible.6 While I had previously been contemplating my longevity in a field that embraces so much young talent, with my new altruistic task in hand, I was forced to consider that this was a universe I was never going to be allowed to leave. Maybe there can be no quiet, side-exit; a ‘slipping away’ to not being in this field I’m camped in.
I’d discussed this recently with Martin Khechara, and I don’t think we’d had arrived at this same conclusion. We’d accepted we would go with a whimper, rather than a bang. Now I’m not sure that’s possible, and my sci-comm fellows will be around to the heat death of the universe. We cannot ‘go gentle into that good night’; there is little choice but to continue to ‘rage against the dying of the light’. We’ve all checked into the Hotel California, bounced on the comfy beds, sampled the vino,7 and found the pool to be warm and inviting. We’ll not be checking out in a hurry, partly because we can’t, partly because we love it here! Besides which, we’re busy sharing our friends codes and inviting others to check in too.
- Still needs a better title for a collective. I’m thinking ‘a creche of science communicators’.
↩︎ - We don’t call it a conference; visitors quickly realise why. ↩︎
- People often struggle to believe my historically natural shyness and reluctance/inability to network. When I explain that I have literally zero control over these traits, or the (over-)compensatory mechanisms that cause me to become the crashing whirlwind, it merely explains a fraction of what I never intended to share. ↩︎
- Ironically, once I arrived home, I opened my socials to be presented with a Facebook ‘memory’ from nine years ago when I first worked professionally with Sarah at the CBeebies event in Weston-Super-Mare. ↩︎
- These are by NO means the only people who were around my age and older, and probably experiencing similar feelings. I can’t list them all, neither do I have photos of them, but they are a hugely diverse family. ↩︎
- I will not be drawn into discussions about this. People fitting this description have long abused privilege at the expense of others. I don’t feel I have done that, yet will always be awarded ‘nuls points’ in a diversity popularity contest, purely based on what other generations have done. ↩︎
- Speaking of vino, I’m meeting Caroline Gillett next week about rebooting socials for #BrumSciComm, and I’ve got to pick up a chat with Sam Pilkington on LinkedIn, as I haven’t seen her in an age, and we’ve just reconnected. ↩︎