A couple of weeks ago, I was in Brighton attending one of the most enjoyable WordCamps I’ve ever been to: WordCamp Brighton. From vegan food and a focus on being fully inclusive, to an equal representation of male and female speakers on stage (yep, at a tech conference – no small feat) and a brilliant after party (with Hawaiian props) that will not be forgotten quickly.
With the formula for a good WordCamp meticulously planned by the organisers, it couldn’t have been easier to enjoy the event. Whether people were there to connect with one another, listen and learn or share their knowledge, there was a relaxed and inviting atmosphere throughout.
Mind Doodle was an event sponsor, so there were four of us from the team present and taking it in turns to deliver live demos at our stand, get to know other attendees, and basically spend lots of time chatting, which is always fun.
I enjoy meeting new people, and usually at a WordCamp, I also love to see a few talks and leave feeling inspired. This time, however, I’ve been relatively inward looking, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
That’s because I taught a workshop on Friday morning called ‘Finding the Words to Press’. I absolutely loved every second of it and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but in all honesty, beforehand, I wasn’t sure how it would go.
Although I’m a determined person who will put in the effort to complete any challenge I set myself, before the workshop, an inner voice asked, will anyone attend? Then if they do, why on earth did they want to? And most importantly, can I deliver a workshop that will live up to (or exceed) expectations?
So I’ve taken a few moments to write down exactly why those thoughts are total junk, however natural for a (fairly new) speaker to feel.
Will anyone attend?
The reality was that of course people wanted to attend (thankfully!). The organisers wouldn’t have chosen the workshop for their programme if it wasn’t relevant for the audience. Even with very niche subject areas, organisers and attendees look for variety and the opportunity to learn something new.
But with that said, it’s equally obvious that I would wonder whether I could end up standing in an empty room. This was my first workshop at a WordCamp and I’m still exploring public speaking, so some ‘fight or flight’ reactions are definitely bubbling underneath the surface.
The success of the session was in part due to the definite appetite for workshops at WordCamp Brighton, which I have also observed at other conferences I’ve attended this year. There’s something about the format of a workshop that speaks to people; it’s a more personal experience than sitting in an auditorium with 200 other people.
I had wondered if anyone would attend, but in the end, my workshop was over subscribed. We let as many extra people join as we could, but some had to be turned away because there was simply no more room for them. I’d love the chance to deliver the workshop for those who missed out this time around, and I’m already wondering about how I can continue to run the workshop at other events in the future.
Why did they want to?
People attend talks and workshops for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes the topic is their area of expertise and is genuinely interesting for them, or perhaps they want validation of their own personal and professional insights.
It could be that the subject is an area they need to improve on and attending the talk or workshop could be a part of their learning and development. Perhaps the subject relates to skills and tasks that their colleagues are responsible for and they want to know more.
Sometimes, it is as simple as the audience member randomly chooses a session to fill an hour or two.
Sometimes they really want to see you talk.
The point is, it doesn’t really matter why they chose to attend. If you deliver a workshop or talk, you’ll never have the exact audience you’re expecting.
Workshops are intimate, so you can tailor sections to be more relevant to attendees depending on their expertise, which is great. Talks in auditoriums are trickier because there is less personal feedback from your audience, but the range and depth of your talk content, together with empathy and an engaging delivery, allows you to connect with every person in your audience.
Can I deliver a workshop that the attendees are hoping for?
This was the most important thing to me. But in actual fact, I didn’t want to deliver a workshop that they were expecting. I wanted to provide a degree of familiarity that would offer some support (it can take a lot of confidence to attend a workshop, as well as deliver one) whilst breathing some fresh ideas into the room.
I was also concerned about creating a schedule that would (seemingly effortlessly) create dynamic movement between my explanations, reflective activities, group discussions, intimate chats, independent writing and peer reviewing.
My schedule of short, snappy tasks that built towards a bigger picture seemed to work perfectly and generated a buzz that grew throughout the workshop.
I think there was some luck involved, but I’m also pleased that I prepared the resources and timings in a way that meant I could adapt easily by observing the attendees and re-evaluating how much time they needed to finish certain sections.
I can also imagine extending the workshop into an entire day or as part of a writing retreat one day – we’ll see!
“The range and depth of your talk content, together with empathy and an engaging delivery, allows you to connect with every person in your audience.”
My biggest takeaway from the experience was that it’s totally normal to wonder if and why anybody would want to learn from you. But even if you’re teaching a room full of experts, your personal experience and insight will tell them something new.
Finally, I thought I’d share some of the comments online that made me smile, and give a another shout out to my lovely team members at Mind Doodle who gave me consistent support before and after the workshop! Find out from my colleagues about what made WordCamp Brighton special for them over on the Mind Doodle blog.
Thank you also to Tammie Lister, who took the photo that I’ve used as my featured image, along with some other great shots at WCBTN.
Tess Clare Lily 
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