I woke up this morning and immediately went back to finalizing my microtalk. Whether I had everything that I wanted to say on the tiny index card was more or less irrelevant now. All of my focus was now on memorizing, or at least familiarizing myself with each of my main points, so I wouldn’t end up tripping over my words on stage. I don’t remember how many additional rewrites I did that morning, but by the time I got to the convention center, I had started typing out my notes on my phone for more space and guidance with what I wanted to say. The bright side is that, in lieu of a recording, I now have a rough transcript of the microtalk for archival purposes.
I don’t fully remember what happened at breakfast this time around, just that I was still writing notes on cards and my phone. As the last keynote of the conference wrapped up, all the speakers for the Rapid Access Microtalks were called to the front. At that moment the anxiety began setting in, the nervous anticipation of “I’m really about to do this,” only growing as more people presented their microtalks and mine grew ever closer. Every talk, including the ones originally pitched as jokes, sounded very thorough and professional, with some even having accompanying graphics that looked to be prepared well ahead of time. It was almost as if each and every microtalk could be a full presentation in their own right, given more time to prepare. The successive nature of the microtalks made me sink back into my seat, I felt like an imposter with the topic and format of my talk bordering on a controversial rant, but I volunteered and got voted to do this, so enough people wanted to hear what I had to say. The anxiety was somewhat alleviated when one of the conference organizers gave a microtalk on imposter syndrome, which I had to give a shout-out to in my talk because it definitely boosted my confidence.
When it came time to actually give my microtalk, I could almost feel the silence of a thousand eyes all on me. I had to keep a timer on hand to make sure I said everything I wanted within the five minutes, because the time went by way faster than I expected. I started out nervously with a somewhat dry introduction of myself and my topic. Introductions have never been my strong suit. But once I started to unpack my arguments, the ball was rolling and momentum was on my side. I loosened up a bit with some humor, varied up my speech for emphasis, and tried to incorporate some audience involvement. I was so focused on the speech that I lost track of my place in the notes and my time I had spent on each point, so much so that when I next looked at my timer, I had less than a minute left and an entire section I had yet to touch on. So in an already hasty presentation fueled by my own anxiety, I had to speed through my final points and wrap up with an on-the-fly conclusion. I ended up going slightly over the allotted five minutes as I was about to be ushered off the stage to ensure the whole session ended on time. The signoff “Thank you” was probably the biggest relief of the month for me, releasing three days of bottled stress and frustration in the span of five minutes, followed immediately by the rushing wave of applause.
As the last microtalk wrapped up, it was time for lunch, so we all dispersed. I made my way back from the front of the room to meet up with the rest of SDSC, and I was intercepted by several researchers and mentors congratulating me on the speech, some I had already met, others I had just introduced myself to on stage. I was consistently told that the passion and frustration really came out through what I was saying, which I was trying to avoid for the sake of being professional, but I guess it was in enough moderation to captivate, rather than detract an audience. Also, being the only undergraduate student to go up on stage and speak where everyone else was an established researcher or seasoned professional, I apparently had a lot of guts to go up and give that speech, which I would have to agree with given how much pressure I put on myself to do this and to do it well.
After lunch with the rest of SDSC and my mentor, I went with him to one last talk on the potential impact of advancements in Artificial Intelligence (AI). Part of my reason for going was to entertain my skepticism regarding the place and utility of AI in our workflows. The talk acknowledged the commonly cited pros and cons of AI. The talk also called attention to concerns I don’t often see addressed in the mainstream media cycles discussing AI, from ethical concerns in the ability of AI to discriminate, whether intentionally or unintentionally, to equity and environmental concerns of the massive amount of energy private companies require to power AI, energy whose production puts significant strain on the environment.1 2 In spite of what I still see as a long list of drawbacks, the talk remained cautiously optimistic about the potential of AI.
Our flight home was later in the evening, and it wasn’t even 4 o’clock, but all of us from SDSC were ready to call it a wrap for the conference. So we headed to the airport, way earlier than we needed to. Because the airport was so empty, we made it to the gate in record time, which makes sense in retrospect that the airport wouldn’t be busy when it serves a city with a population just over half a million. Regardless, I now had the time to return to student mode and give my undivided attention to studying for my math midterm tomorrow. Thankfully, the class has been easygoing, so I felt confident about tomorrow, assuming I can get proper rest when I get home after the flight.
The flight was delayed into the night, so we split up to find dinner in the airport. We took off after the sun had set on the Sunport, so it was another bout of staring out the window into the pitch black desert again. This time however, instead of looking out with anticipation and anxiety of what’s to come, I took time to reflect on my time at the conference, what I learned from it and what I gained participating in it; leaving with the knowledge of what an RSE is or can be, an expanded view of potential careers as an RSE, a strong connection to an active community with several ways to get more involved, and a reassurance of the value of my voice to call attention and create change no matter my age or experience.
We landed back in San Diego, grabbed our bags, and waved goodbye as we left the airport bound for home. When I got back to my apartment, it felt like returning home from any other normal day at school. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago I was up on stage giving little more than an improvised speech two states away. The things you learn about your potential when you step out the box, out of line, and out of the shadows!
Again, I would like to extend my dearest thanks to the US RSE Association for preparing and organizing such a wonderful, event-filled conference, the countless hours spent during the conference to ensure everything ran smoothly, the generosity of the student program granting a rising generation of RSEs the opportunity to attend, and the receptiveness of the organizers to adapt to the needs of the RSE community and incorporate feedback for US-RSE’25 in Philadelphia.
And if you managed to scroll through all four entries, or not I can’t tell, thank you for giving it the time of day. As I step into my career journey at full speed, I hope to be back soon with more updates to this blog. But that’s all for now.