Leading Learning
The Untouchables
When reinventing your meeting, it’s tempting to scrap everything and start from scratch. But it’s important to recognize and preserve those elements your community holds dear.
"Remember, there are no sacred cows when it comes to the 2010 conference," said the convener of a conference-design think tank I recently facilitated. Everyone nodded in agreement. One participant drew laughs when he added, "Sacred cows make the best burgers, you know." A small plastic cow was tossed around the room to illustrate that anything could be sacrificed for a new idea.
No sacred cows. It's not an unusual brainstorming ground rule, and the intention is good. Though I've heard (and used) the expression countless times, on this day it left me a bit uncomfortable. After all, shouldn't some elements of your conference be sacred?
Religions or cultures that hold cows as sacred (such as Hinduism) see the animals as a symbol of things they deem valuable and worthy of protection. If no element of a conference is seen as worthy of permanent protection, are we really creating the strongest possible bond among members of the community, profession, or industry it attracts? While we should question blind allegiance to outdated functions or approaches, changing meaning-rich traditions and rituals should be considered with the utmost care.
I began my association career as a director of education, with the annual meeting as one of my primary responsibilities. For years, board members had complained about their isolated seating during the final banquet - a long row of tables on risers spanning almost the entire front of the room, which made it difficult for them to enjoy the dinner and interact with others.
So I simply got rid of the risers and head table, and placed board members at reserved rounds with their friends and family. Smug at the genius of my idea, I was caught completely off-guard by the board members' near mutiny. But it was too late to revert back to the original seating.
A lengthy debrief revealed what I had missed. By eliminating the head table, I had removed the object of board member complaints. But I also had unintentionally slaughtered something they implicitly revered: being seen and acknowledged in front of their professional community.
This recognition was sacred and worth preserving. So the following year, we nixed the traditional head table in favor of a receiving line for board members to personally welcome individuals as they entered the room. In addition, we featured a commemorative section honoring board members' accomplishments in the printed banquet program and in a running slide show.
Traditions and rituals bind people together because they bring shared values to life and allow people to engage in common activities over many years and generations. In our daily life, rituals can be sacred ceremonies that involve hundreds of people or simple, cherished individual habits. Rituals often open or close group gatherings since those times are particularly opportune for knitting together the spirit of community, reinforcing shared and sacred values, and celebrating the group's spirit.
If we see ourselves only as innovators and agents of change, then sacred cows are obstacles to eliminate. But if we also see ourselves as cultivators of community, we will thoughtfully preserve the elements of a profession and its community that are rightly held sacred.
Take Away
When considering what elements could be eliminated from your meeting and which ones should stay, ask the following:
- What values, traditions, and experiences does the profession or industry hold sacred?
- How is that reverence reflected in your conferences?
- What conference components might be seen as untouchable?
- Is that status merited because these elements reflect sacred values of the community, or is it a legacy that should be challenged?
- If no elements of your conference are sacred, what does that say about the overall spirit of community? What opportunities to introduce relevant rituals are worth pursuing?
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