Anyone Else Tired of Conferences?

I’m not anti-gathering. But we need to radically reimagine how we do it.

I remember being so excited to attend my first conference, Making and Unmaking Mass Incarceration (MUMI). I was 25, bright-eyed, hyper-passionate, and ready to help dismantle all the systems of oppression I learned about in undergrad with my first “big girl job” at the Arcus Center for Social Justice Leadership. The MUMI Conference, held at the University of Mississippi, was an abolitionist gathering that brought together scholars, students, activists, and systems-impacted people to examine the history of mass incarceration and the future of prison abolition.

To this day, it remains one of the best conferences I’ve ever attended. Every session and presentation felt organized and engaging, with grassroots organizers, educators, artists, and systems-impacted individuals leading the conversations. It’s where I discovered one of my now-favorite authors, Kiese Laymon. It’s where I had the honor of meeting Albert Woodfox and learning about how he spent over four decades in solitary confinement. It’s where I learned about Amani Sawari, who produced the Right2Vote Report, a national newsletter that kept incarcerated people in over 30 states informed on voting rights legislation.

Photos from the Making and Unmaking Mass Incarceration (MUMI) Conference in 2019. Left photo: Myself and Albert Woodfox. Middle photo: One of the sessions from MUMI. Right photo: Myself standing in front of the step-and-repeat.

It’s also where my interest in creating rehabilitation opportunities through education for people who are incarcerated first took root, recognizing education as a pathway to (re)gaining autonomy. I didn’t just leave with inspiration. I left with tools, connections, and concrete ways to make my own unique impact.

This led to opportunities like creating a prison education program about the power of media and the importance of storytelling, teaching Storytelling for Social Justice for Georgetown University’s Prisons and Justice Initiative, and volunteering as a reader/editor for the USC Dornsife Prison Education Project’s Readers’ Circle Summer Editing Workshop (to name a few).

But over the years, the bar MUMI set has rarely been met.

As I continue working in the nonprofit sector and attending more conferences, the newness has started to wear off. The originality has faded. So many of them have begun to feel redundant with the same themes, the same “trailblazing” speakers, and the same “transformative” plenaries with recycled buzzwords and workshops from years prior. I’m not learning anything new.

Instead, they feel like corporate retreats with luxury hotels, overpriced steak dinners, and parties disguised as “networking” happy hours—not spaces for actual organizing or strategy building (and maybe that’s what the networking time is for, but it’s hard to focus when you’re on your third glass of free wine).

So when I saw a LinkedIn post recently that read, “So many f**king conferences. I’m done with it. So much good talk. But does it lead to anything meaningful?”—I found myself nodding in agreement.

So many of these spaces feel less like incubators for catalyzing change and more like rituals of flaunting status and gatekeeping. They’re expensive and inaccessible, too often prioritize making money, and care more about appearance than impact.

The problems I’ve experienced?

• The same speakers rotate across events, sharing repackaged ideas that sound good but rarely push us forward.

• The content (while sometimes energizing) doesn’t often translate into action. Inspiration without implementation is just a dopamine hit.

• Conferences rarely create the space for honest dialogue, and those most impacted by injustice are still excluded or tokenized.

• Most have become content dumps, cramming every second with panels, breakout sessions, and networking mixers, leaving little space for actual connection or reflection.

The point is to leave feeling energized, but I often feel fatigued and burned out. After 2-3 days of information overload, I walk away with a notebook full of quotes, questions, and eureka moments that usually sit untouched. There’s rarely a tangible call to action. There’s no clear “what now.” There’s just a momentary high that fades the minute I’m back at my desk with 50+ missed emails I need to respond to.

As Dr. Renée Lertzman said in a recent post, many convenings miss the mark because they prioritize programming over presence. We’re handed packed schedules, big-name speakers, and a glossy stage design; however, there’s not enough space to reflect, digest, or simply be with one another.

What we need are spaces that nourish. Spaces that can hold tension and complexity without rushing to resolution. Spaces that allow for slowness, for pause, for the kind of deep relationship-building that doesn’t fit neatly into a breakout session.

I’m not anti-gathering. Quite the opposite. I believe in the potential of coming together. But I think we need to radically reimagine how we do it.

Let’s stop treating conferences as the end goal. As a sector, we must stop measuring success by panel attendance or how “packed the room was.” What good is a packed room if nothing gets done after the room empties?

If you’re planning a conference, ask:

• What will be different in our work because of this gathering?

• Who isn’t in the room that should be, and why?

• How are we creating conditions for follow-through, not just a feel-good moment?

• How will this gathering translate to helping the people and communities we claim to serve?

We need gatherings that are intimate, iterative, and rooted in practice, not just talk. Spaces where vulnerability is welcome, where not knowing is part of the process, and where reimagining bold solutions isn’t just a panel topic but something we’re actively practicing in real time. I want to be in rooms where people aren’t just talking about change but co-creating it, confronting discomfort, and unapologetically challenging the status quo.

MUMI exhibited these attributes. If we’re serious about dismantling oppressive systems, we can’t keep replicating them in how we convene. We can’t claim to center equity and liberation while hoarding knowledge, gatekeeping access, or packing our agendas so tight that no one has time to breathe, let alone connect.

I ask you: What gathering(s) have you been to that felt different? Ones that felt grounded, honest, and a little uncomfortable in the best way? A space that allowed you to show up as your full self, not just your title or talking points?

If you have any, I want to hear about them. Because those are the spaces shaping the future I want to be part of.

---