It's a weird thing hosting webinars. And it's part of what I do.
For many people the idea of presenting on screen, on their own, to a wall of silence is their worst nightmare. For me, it's a chance to pretend I'm on television - something I long aspired to as a child and long before I understood just how bloody difficult it is to carve out a career in that space without money or connections. The chances of young working class people being able to access and take up creative careers in media have eroded over time to the extent where the sector acknowledges it has a very real problem - something that I'm glad to see being tackled by some of the organisations you'll find on my Common Good Network directory here: Creative Sector - The Common Good
But, as ever, I digress ;)
This post was prompted by my most recent hosting duties; a webinar for a tech firm that is beloved of developers. And whilst my talent lies not in coding or quantum computing, I absolutely have a knack for bringing the energy required to make people feel like they made the right choice in joining the session. I'll put your presenters at ease, give the audience a (virtually) good time, field Q&A and - vitally - keep things to time (there's a reason my initials are TK: as well as Toni Kent, they stand for Time Keeper). It was, by all accounts, a success. Attendees were happy, client was happy, the subject matter experts were happy too.
Job done then - right? Well, not quite. There was just a little something missing for me. Because, for all the effort and energy that goes in, and however happy the client is, there are times when something gets a little lost. Feels missing. Is missed. It's that of face-to-face human connection.
Think about it. If you're called upon to deliver a speech or a talk in person, regardless of how well it goes, you'll have someone you can bounce ideas off, or who'll buoy you up at the beginning and end. Someone who offers you a real-time and sincere reaction where you can read those non-verbal facial expressions. Who you can maybe go off with and have a cup of tea and a debrief. Who will help you to make that transition from high adrenaline to into the groove.
As someone who works almost exclusively from home and with a husband who does the same, I can tell you that when you've both got your own separate - and completely unrelated - work thing going on, banging on about the online webinar you've just hosted does nothing to enhance your relationship. We're there for each other for sure, but are of precious little use to each other in the highly specific and specialised sectors and roles that we work in. In my husband's sector, it's perfectly normal to swear like a trooper on a Teams call. In mine, we ration our big swears for calls with people that we really know, like and trust ;)
So what's a girl to do?
Well, firstly, I always book a space to present from. This causes a great deal of confusion when booking a meeting room - sometimes I'll arrive to find the space beautifully set up for four people or more, only to then sweep everything on the table aside to set up my rig. I may have to ask for lighting, an ethernet port or a 'do not disturb' sign and am conscious it may seem diva-esque when, to all appearances, I'm simply sitting on the end of a web cam (and I know how bad that sounds).
Aside from taking me away from the house and the temptation to put on a load of washing the minute I finish my call (or a delivery driver hammering at the door because there's a car on the driveway so surely someone's going to answer?), there's the huge benefit of bringing me into physical contact with PEOPLE. And not people I'm married to or have given birth to or who would like me to sign for something I didn't order. Just other people!
One of the myriad of problems that came with COVID was this idea that it's perfectly normal to work from home on your own. Well I'm here to tell you that it's not. Working from home dulls our ability to interact with others, negotiate with others, get shit done with others. To laugh and celebrate together. Work out complex problems and support one another. I am all for flexibility and inclusion but let's not pretend that we don't suffer when we're sat ruminating on our own priorities or problems. Or that digital poverty doesn't exist. Or poverty full stop. When you have young people expected to work from shared bedrooms or their parents' kitchen table; or vulnerable people placed at greater risk because now they never need to leave their house, full-time remote working is not a panacea. And it's absolutely not the way to induct our young people into the world of work.
When I hear stories of friend's kids who have been through soul-destroying online only recruitment processes, and then finally offered a job which is working from home, it makes my heart sink. How do we learn to become independent if we don't get out? How do we deal with the challenges and frustrations of being out in the world when we rarely set foot in it? How do we get to know our colleagues if we only ever see them as a tile on a screen?
I was delighted when our daughter secured her first job through the recruitment agency that offered me my first office job (go Reed!). To go into a branch and have someone match you up with a client they know well is still a thing. And it works. At a time when we're led to believe that the entire world is run by AI agents, it's still possible to go 'temp-to-perm' in an entry level role. There are still organisations that want to hire young people and train them up. It's been more than a year since our daughter started working at a financial services firm and she's thriving on being in an office environment and - crucially - getting out of the house. I envy her town centre 9-5 with its shops and ability to grab an M&S sandwich while you do the post run (do you remember that? A 9-5 where you don't take work home with you? BLISS!). I know you probably think this is some post from the '90s but I swear to all that's holy that it isn't - if, like me, you've worked for or work with massive corporations, it's easy to think that small service-led companies with entry level roles no longer exist.
To return to today, and the point of this post, I was reminded of that value of human interaction. I tried out a new venue - a hotel that was recommended to me through a business network - who very kindly allowed me to use their gym after my session. The benefits were instant: not only did I switch off my webcam and close my laptop without immediately being drawn into some kind of domestic situation, I had the chance to put on my running shoes (without being whined at by a dog) and get myself off for the kind of workout I hadn't enjoyed since I used to work in an office.
It felt like the perfect way to shake off the nervous energy and offered a prime example of how if we don't get ourselves out in the world we can forget things we used to take for granted - like if you're going to a gym for a workout and are planning to use the a shower afterwards, you really ought to remember to pack some clean knickers.....
Soundtrack: This is the modern world - The Jam. Now added to the Reasons to be Cheerful playlist on Spotify - check it out here:
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| Me, looking slightly mad, on a webinar - I love it! |
