Thousands of educators gathered to exchange ideas, explore innovation, and celebrate the possibilities of professional learning. The exhibit halls were enormous, the schedules were packed, and the energy was unmistakable. With of all that into consideration, as I arrived at a major education conference this past summer, I felt strangely alone.

I was attending as a featured speaker, panelist, and session interviewer. My feelings with anticipation as eager to reconnect with colleagues, contribute ideas, and experience the sense of belonging that had made previous conferences meaningful. Instead, I found myself searching for something remarkably simple. I wanted warmth, acknowledgment, and genuine human connection. Amid the noise and activity, I felt lost.

Nearly five months later, that feeling remains with me. The thoughts of the experience have lingered with me as I ruminate on how the experience could have been more meaningful. Perhaps it has lingered because the experience revealed something about the changing landscape of professional learning and something about how I have changed along the way.

When Bigger Doesn’t Mean Better

Throughout my career, I have attended conferences that renewed my spirit and strengthened my commitment to education. Just the previous summer, I experienced a gathering filled with warmth, meaningful conversations, and a genuine sense of community. I returned home feeling energized by the people and ideas I encountered.

This summer was different. Although I reconnected with friends and met some wonderful people, the conference itself felt impersonal and disconnected. Despite my involvement in the program, I struggled to find a sense of belonging within the larger experience.

I attended alone, which may have contributed to those feelings. Still, I wonder why anyone should feel isolated at a gathering devoted to learning and connection. I wasn’t seeking special treatment because of my role or professional recognition. I simply wanted to feel welcomed and valued, just as we hope every student and educator feels in our schools.

That experience left me questioning whether our largest professional gatherings have become so focused on their production that they sometimes overlook the people they were created to serve. It appears that any focus on human-centeredness is lost and that major conferences are more attuned to profit, sponsors, and high profile keynotes.

Finding Connection Beyond the Conference

Interestingly, my most meaningful experiences happened outside the official conference sessions. These are the experiences that were not on the agenda. These are the experiences in which an intentional connections was made where I felt invited, included, and seen.

One of those moments came through the Long Table, a communal dinner organized by Julia Bialeski that brought together kindred spirits for conversation and connection. Sitting around that table reminded me how powerful it can be when people gather without elaborate presentations or expectations. We shared stories, listened to one another, and experienced the simple joy of being present.

The spontaneous hallway conversations offered similar moments of connection. Even a visit to a local record store brought an unexpected sense of discovery and joy. Those experiences reminded me that inspiration and meaningful learning often emerge through genuine encounters rather than carefully orchestrated programs.

When I reflect on the conference today, I cannot identify a particular session that transformed my thinking. I remember the people, the conversations, and the moments when I felt seen. Those memories have stayed with me far longer than anything presented on a stage.

Rethinking the Conference Machine

I understand that large conferences require considerable resources, corporate partnerships, and careful planning. I respect the work involved in bringing thousands of educators together. However, I wonder whether we have become too comfortable repeating familiar structures without questioning whether they continue to meet the needs of the people attending.

Educators invest significant time, money, and energy in these experiences. Some make personal financial sacrifices simply to participate. They deserve more than elaborate exhibit halls, promotional giveaways, and another packed schedule of presentations. They deserve opportunities for meaningful growth, authentic relationships, and sustained collaboration.

I have shared ideas with professional organizations about creating more intentional experiences, sometimes receiving little response. That silence has made me wonder how organizations that champion innovation can become more willing to reconsider their own approaches.

Perhaps we need fewer conversations about the importance of belonging and more intentional efforts to create it. Corporate sponsors and professional associations have tremendous opportunities to invest in genuine partnerships that extend beyond a conference weekend. Imagine gatherings where shared meals, smaller conversations, and collaborative experiences receive the same attention as keynote presentations and exhibition spaces.

As someone who finds meaning in music, I think about the difference between a massive production and a small group of musicians creating something beautiful together. The most memorable music does not always come from the largest stage. Sometimes it emerges when people listen carefully, make room for one another, and discover something meaningful through collaboration. Professional learning can work the same way.

Creating Spaces Where People Matter

This experience also reflects a personal realization. I am becoming more intentional about the spaces I enter and the communities where I invest my energy. I want to be where people are seen, heard, and valued. I want to contribute to environments where belonging is experienced rather than merely discussed.

That desire is part of what continues to inspire my writing and podcasting. I believe meaningful communities can emerge through smaller gatherings, grassroots conversations, and authentic relationships. Perhaps the next evolution of professional learning will begin around a dinner table, through a podcast conversation, or among a few educators willing to imagine something different.

I remain hopeful that larger organizations can embrace this shift as well. Their resources and influence could help create more welcoming and meaningful experiences if they are willing to listen, reconsider familiar practices, and invite educators into the process.

The landscape has shifted, and so have we. Our approaches to professional learning must evolve with us. We must lean in and be willing to take intentional steps into building experiences for belonging, connections, and mattering.

I still believe deeply in the power of bringing people together. I believe there is room for something more personal, more intentional, and more human. Big doesn’t always mean better, and meaningful doesn’t have to mean massive.

As I continue writing, podcasting, and exploring ways to connect with others, I hope these reflections contribute to a larger conversation about what we might create together. I would love to hear about your experiences at professional conferences and the moments that have made you feel genuinely connected. What ideas might help us create spaces where every educator feels welcomed and valued?

Perhaps the next meaningful change in professional learning will begin with a simple conversation and an invitation to pull up another chair. Perhaps, it will be a simple gathering at a table literally breaking bread together. It might even be a quick side trip with others to a local record store away from the convention center.

Belonging should never be something we have to search for after the sessions end. It should be the reason we gather in the first place.