I was in a group video call last Friday, and someone asked, "Is anyone else submitting a talk to North Bay Python at the last minute? The CFP closes tonight." North Bay Python (NBPy) is a regional Python programming language conference held in Petaluma, CA. I first learned about it when I met one of the organisers a few years ago. In terms of Python conferences, I have previously attended PyOhio and PyCon US. PyOhio started when I first began programming Python, after many years of Craig trying to convince me to go, and it has become an important part of my life. PyCon US started because my employer sent me there for several years, and continued for the same reason as PyOhio. As I joined the PyOhio organising team a couple of years ago, I became more exposed to the other US regional conferences in general. There are several, including NBPy. All of them are far enough away that attending would be expensive and nontrivial, to the point that I basically wrote off the possibility.
Last year, I submitted three talk proposals to PyCon US and all of them were declined. I was excited about all of them, but one of them was a real spark of my passions. I was less disappointed about the other two being turned down, but that one was a bit upsetting. Enough so that I chose not to submit anything to PyCon US this year. None of my submissions were Python-specific, but all of them were applicable to the Python community. The one I was most passionate about was directly aimed at the community, and open source communities in general.
So return to last Friday, when the nearly completed NBPy call for proposals was mentioned. Fully believing there was no chance of it being accepted, and knowing full well I couldn't afford to go even if it was, I submitted an updated version of the previous year's proposal. In my mind, acceptance, though unlikely, was really the worse of the two possibilities, because it meant very likely having to decide to decline the offer to speak. Not to mention, there are some current.... issues.... with planes that are resulting in, oh, I don't know, a LOT of problems, and they have me deeply afraid to fly. (I'm driving to PyCon US this year, so there was no currently planned reason for me to have to fly until 2026.)
On the very off chance that it was accepted, I did some very late night, half-asleep mobile searching for the cost of flights. It would turn out that at least half the numbers I found were completely wrong, and much of what I had researched was completely useless. Pro-tip: if you care about what you're researching, do it when you're more awake, and possibly on a desktop device if the mobile websites you're dealing with are terrible.
Four days later...
I woke up to an email containing the following text: "Congratulations! We’re delighted to accept your proposal,'The Source of Change: Bettering Online Open Source Communities Can Begin with You'." I somehow glossed right over the subject line beginning with "[ACTION REQUIRED]", though I'm fairly certain it wouldn't have registered until I read further into the email anyway. Welp.
So, now what? I am currently unemployed and absolutely not in a position to spend money on travelling. Add into that, I also woke up to an email informing me my request for a travel grant to PyCon US had been denied, which meant I would be handling the full cost of that conference this year. I was now facing the dilemma that I had both hoped and expected to avoid.
I had checked a box in my talk proposal indicating that I would need funding from the conference to be able to attend. In the acceptance email, there was a note about them reaching out separately to sort out financial assistance, and a caveat that they would do their best to accommodate within their limited budget. I know from experience how difficult it is for a regional conference to secure funding in general, much less enough funding to provide travel grants to folks. I verified the cost of the hotel, the cost of the least expensive flight, and the transportation between the airport and the hotel. It was pretty significant. Certainly it was entirely outside my budget. The deadline for accepting talks was March 7, but I know how much easier it is on organisers when folks respond more quickly. I couldn't accept without knowing that I could attend.
Asking for money is difficult and awkward. It means making yourself vulnerable to folks you hardly know, if you know them at all, admitting a very personal situation, and asking for something the need for which is often frowned upon in our society. I did it for PyCon, two years in a row, but that involved filling out a form and waiting for a response email from their system. The application process never involved direct interaction with someone. In the end, I interacted with someone directly for the transfer of funds, but somehow that wasn't quite as distressing as asking in the first place. I could have decided it wasn't worth it, or that I wasn't deserving of assistance, or that it wasn't going to happen anyway, or whatever I needed to tell myself to avoid dealing with it. I almost did. Ultimately I managed to convince myself to at least ask. I came to the conclusion that it was only right to give them the opportunity to help. On some level, the imagined likelihood of being turned down made it simpler. However, that didn't negate any of the rest of the anxiety inducing parts of it. Regardless, I had decided. I was doing this.
I obviously read the part of the email stating someone would reach out. But, I had no idea what their intended timeline was for doing so, and I wanted to respect the timeline for the folks handling talks. So, somehow, I built up the courage to email the organisers preemptively, and let them know about my situation. I explained that my ability to speak was essentially entirely contingent on whether funding was available, and that I would provide details as needed. I received a very quick response with an offer. Unfortunately, it was just over half of what I would actually need. They said if I needed more to let them know, and they would see what they could do. That said, it turns out it's easily as difficult to ask for more money. Once again, I decided it was worth giving them the opportunity. So I replied with the details I had regarding cost, including the useless info from my late-night research, which would cause a bit of confusion. A few emails later, the confusion was cleared up, and the most reasonable route of travel was determined. The phrase "this all seems reasonable" was included, which was pushing the conversation towards the distinct possibility of me having to make a decision. I sorted out a flight, and provided an exact total. I didn't have long to agonise over things, as I almost immediately received a response: they were able to cover my expenses.
There was no part of this situation that had gone as expected. I did not expect my talk to be accepted. On that terribly off chance, I certainly didn't expect them to be able to cover my travel and hotel costs. I absolutely did not expect to be facing the decision whether or not to attend the conference. But, here I was. I didn't spend much time thinking about it before accepting. How could I not after all of that?
Beyond that, as much as I didn't expect the talk to be accepted, the effort they put in to ensure I was able to present it said a lot about their desire for it to be a part of their conference. If it wasn't that big of a deal to them, why bend over backwards to make it happen. That piece was hard for me to ignore. I struggle with self-confidence and thinking much of myself or what I have to offer. My brain weasels are exceptionally loud when it comes to things like this. The lengths to which they went to ensure my ability to attend was a swift pool noodle to the face of those little jerks. I'm incredibly passionate about the topic I plan to present, and as much as public speaking terrifies me, I'm deeply grateful to the North Bay Python organisers for making this possible.
Submitting a talk to a conference can be a roller coaster. You send it off and get your hopes up, but you are always risking it being rejected. Depending on the conference, it can take years of submitting to give you a chance of being accepted. Even folks who are well known in the community spend ages submitting things and being declined repeatedly. This feeling isn't for everyone. But, the fact is, as little chance as you may have when you submit a talk, you have absolutely no chance if you don't. Being hopeful is important. That said, being realistic and exercising self-care is equally important. I decided this year that I wouldn't submit to PyCon US because I didn't have the space to deal with the rejection. This was the right move for me. Then I submitted to NBPy, and was surprised to find it had been accepted. In the end, you never know, and it won't happen if you don't try. However, always give yourself the grace to decide when it makes sense for you and when it doesn't.
This decision is doubly important, because, there's the possibility it won't stop there. What if your talk is accepted? Then you actually have to give it! What a disaster! Or maybe you're the type who loves talking in front of people. In which case, hooray! Otherwise, congratupologies to the rest of us. If you're like me, and this prospect is terrifying and anxiety inducing, I offer you a few things that have helped me manage to deal with it.
- Think about why you wanted to share the topic in the first place. For me, this is one of my passions, and I truly believe if what I have to share is heard and acted upon, real change can be made. It is incredibly important to me to do what I can to affect that change. I'm working very hard to keep that in mind as I move forward with this process.
- There are always people in your life that will support you in some way through this journey. I officially accepted my talk slot earlier today and have already had multiple friends and a complete stranger offer to help me in any way they can. At times, this support comes in the form of sitting down with you while you practice your talk, going through your slides with you, and providing feedback on the whole presentation. Other times, it comes in the form of reminding you that you've got this. Sometimes that's more than enough to get you past a mental block and moving again. Let folks who have the bandwidth to support you do so.
- You were chosen for a reason. There is a whole process to talk selection for conferences involving multiple people, at least two rounds of reviews, and both a common set and conference-specific set of criteria for scoring. Aside from whatever that particular conference has in mind, your talk was chosen because multiple people agreed it is excellent, a great fit for the conference, and is likely to interest attendees in wanting to see it. You have a great thing to share, and they want folks to hear it. Regardless of what you might think of yourself, this is an inescapable fact. It might only marginally help, but that's better than nothing. Lean into it.
Asking for financial assistance can be its own roller coaster. Always know that your needs are as valid as anyone else's, and don't assume that someone else needs it more than you do or that you don't deserve it. Further, if a conference is offering travel grants, they are offering them because they have the funding to do so, and because they want to ensure folks who might not otherwise be able to attend are able to do so. Never hesitate to ask. As with submitting a talk, there is always the risk of your request being declined. By the time this whole situation was over, I had a rejection and an acceptance happen in the same day. I felt terrible about the rejection, and excited about the acceptance. But, again, if you don't ask, you won't have given them the opportunity to try. The rejection says nothing about you, it's almost always due to budgetary constraints. Conference sponsors are scarce right now, and every conference in my sphere is struggling to secure funding. How they choose to use that funding, though, is up to them, and travel grants are often very important. Don't give up before at least asking. You might end up pleasantly surprised.
I realised as I was writing this that this whole situation happened in less than a week from start to finish. It feels like it was much longer, given the emotional levels involved. I'll admit, having so little time to obsess over the outcomes this time around was a positive thing, but it did mean a lot of intense emotions in a very short time. I don't suggest waiting until the last minute simply to shorten the amount of time you have to worry, but for what it's worth, if you do wait, you absolutely won't be alone. (Insider conference organiser info: a lot of people wait until the last minute to submit talks. That said, it adds stress to the organisers dealing with talks. So while I absolutely get it from a speaker perspective, from an organiser perspective, I don't recommend it.) I wanted to share this in hopes that someone else who is on the fence about pursuing giving a conference talk, for any of the reasons discussed above, might get the nudge they need to take the first step, and to not let the hurdles that arise stop them along the way.
You've got this!