Chris, I don’t have any answers too and share many of the frustrations you express here. This came up again yesterday in a twitter conversation with Leigh Blackall who had pointed to a post that strongly criticizes the entire OER movement. What frustrated me about that post is that it didn’t feel like it left me *any* room to engage it. But to me, that’s one of the learnings from all of this – that it’s important to remain open, recognize and respect these critiques, try to engage them and learn and change where possible, but also be able to sit with the feelings they bring up and not necessarily just ‘resolve’ them, make them go away. I’m not very good at that – I seem to want to resolve things. I’m working on that, and I appreciate these as opportunities to practice.

As an aside, it appeared to me that this may be the start of this movement moving into the mainstream and I suspect that will attract a more diverse crowd in the coming years.

I was able to more easily fall into conversations with people I’d never met only b/c of the social network effects. I read your blog and follow you on Twitter so there is a much more natural opening for me to engage with you. I felt that way with a handful of people, but I never felt like I was really in. I guess I need to deal with the fact that has nearly everything to do with me — I’ve watched and read nearly all the people I stressed about meeting and talking to admit on their blogs just how intimated they were meeting everyone else. I guess in short we aren’t impostors, we’re just people working to find where we fit. Maybe no different than when we were kids negotiating new friendships and relationships. I think in a lot of ways forcing myself to first go and then to try and work myself into conversations was a lot about growing. I didn’t go expecting to feel so uncomfortable, but did feel that way in a lot of situations. What I’ve had to reflect on is that I was in a different country, a new city, a new culture, a new community, and around people who I wanted to make an impression on. All in all, I’m really pleased with how it all went down. I grew socially and intellectually. Its not everyday that I can say that about an academic conference.

Ok, time for me to get off the couch. Great post and great conversation starter!

The topic you address – inclusiveness and gender equity – is different from the highly socialized soft isolation that close-knit peers exhibit in their interactions with each other. Gender equity and inclusion is something that you’ve achieved to a good degree with OpenEd09. The isolation that comes from trying to crack a tightly-connected peer group (such as Jen is referring to) with their own layer of inside jokes and terminology reminds me too much of high school. I don’t think you as a conference organizer can reasonably be expected to address this. That’s something for the broader field to work on. How? I haven’t a clue…I just know it’s important and it’s a mindset shift. Social isolation won’t be solved by having a certain % of female presenters or attendees.

In terms of inclusiveness, you did better with OpenEd than almost any conference I’ve seen in the edtech field. Your speaker list was diverse in both culture and gender. Take a bow for that!

Now, about that impostor syndrome, Chris…you’ve referenced this before. And it resonates with me. I am waiting for the conference where I am finished presenting and someone declares “this man is an idiot” and the entire audience simultaneously agrees. Like you, I don’t like large social gatherings. I would gladly meet with a small group to discuss a topic over dinner or even for an evening. But, add 6-10 people into a room, throw in a few beverages, and suddenly the interaction becomes one of social negotiation, public displays, positioning, reputation creation, etc. Unless forced to, I’ll always skip these interactions and spend the evening in my hotel room doing email. The social preening (I don’t know what else to call it) is too taxing an activity to warrant effort for me.

My only complaint with you Chris is that you don’t write enough. You offer brilliant insights into complex subject areas. And you lead with an good blend of cognition and emotion.

George

What if we could replay our entrance into a group, conference etc, with a mind/heart that says “I am loved/respected” as a given. Whether it is true or not. Just have that attitude.

What might change?

What I loved about this edu-blog-guys network that I first encountered at Northern Voice was you/they (and Chris, my experience is that you are part of this) all gave off this amazing vibe of love, interest in others, etc. But in the intervening time, your love for each other has grown, been reified by your inside language, and by your reputation and standing in the “world” (whatever that is). In other words, we feel your love of each other and start ignoring your love of us. (I suspect this is our own crazy minds doing this to ourselves. I know I do it! ) My thought is that this allows us to live into our own imposter syndrome.

If we switch the conversation in our own heads to “I am loved” as default (sort of like that trick of some teachers who tell their students on day one everyone starts with an A), what might happen?

Again, I suspect we have to believe this first before we can believe that others really DO love us. Odd human beings. Sheesh!