Like many college students, I was told when I was young that conferences were a great place to network, to learn what is going on in my field, and to stay abreast of the newest, coolest things coming out.  Away from school, away from our professional environment and peers, we jokingly said that conferences were really just an excuse to get out of town and go drinking with old friends.  But still I went.

Over the following years I have performed, judged, competed, attended, and crashed conferences.  I’d like to think that I have an open and inquisitive mind, but so many of those conferences only had one or two presentations I wanted to see.  Not that I didn’t want to learn new things, but so many of the presentations looked like fluff, or had nothing to do with me.  Recently, I have found myself disappointed in the offerings, and not attending any of the presentations.  I go, shake hands, see a performance (if it’s a music conference), and explore the town.

I did my undergraduate degree in music; I initially wanted to be a high school band director, but somewhere along the way decided I’d rather not do that, but couldn’t bear the idea of not making music.  I switched to a degree in performance, and hit the practice room, mentally set to win an audition.  I was all about professionalism, all about getting prepared for the “real world,” and all about running on the tread mill faster than anyone around me.

One of the things I see happening in the conference world has me concerned. It’s the same thing I see in academia; we (the teachers) are selling a world (to the students) that doesn’t exist.  So many conference talks are about how to “get a job.”  The definition of “job” is orchestra, military band, or college teaching.  And the “get” means to win by audition.   The message sold at so many conferences is summarized thus: you will win by practicing harder than anyone else.

Did anyone notice there was only one full time college tuba-teaching job in the country this year?  Where was that info at the conference?  My friend Andy has transitioned from grad school in music to employment in the music industry, so he was asked to sit on a panel at a conference; a panel about jobs.  He mentioned to me later that the other three panel members seemed to be missing the point that there just aren’t any jobs only playing the tuba.

I recently read an article by Tom Loughlin where he decried the same flaw in the academic conference world of theatre.  One of my favorite lines is:

[The] emphasis is 97% on “how to succeed in the theatre business by trying a little harder.” It’s self-perpetuating, narcissistic, and almost cult-like.

I’ve marveled at this cult before.  In part because I am not a member, and in part because they seem to be missing the point. Most conferences seem to espouse an idea: the more you specialize, the more employable you will be.

The point is, education isn’t about getting a job; it’s about learning something you can apply to your life.  It might help you get a job, but colleges are not vocational training institutions.  And more than that, the things you learn in college aren’t just about music, or just about biology.  Another article I read addressed this idea very well: students have a lot going for them beyond the one little box of their degree title.  Basically, specialization doesn’t equal employment, and specialization doesn’t equal happiness.

I recently interviewed a very well-respected and successful arts leader here in town and the topic of conferences came up.  She admitted that she doesn’t go to any conferences anymore and explained why: after a few years of hitting all the major conferences she kept hearing the same things over and over.  She wasn’t getting much out of it, but she also noticed a pattern.  The people who were there were all trying to climb the ladder, not really trying to learn anything.  She liked the rung she was on, so she stopped going eventually.  I asked her about books and professional development, and again she sighed.  Her response was that at the end of a day she was happy with her work, but she wanted to go home to see her husband.  I smiled at that.  She explained further that she kept up with news and opportunities, but she was more than her job.

I know that conferences are limited to their own subject matter, but we as teachers and conference-goers should be careful not to buy into the idea that increasing specialization is the only path to employment.  And we need to drop the idea that gaining employment as a specialist is the only path to happiness and fulfillment.