So a couple of weeks ago, Jeremy calls me and says, “Would you be interested in attending this conference? Let me know by the end of today, because early registration is ending.”
Normally, I’m not really a conference kind of girl…
(And trust me, there are conference girls. Guys, too. They’re like those kids at summer camp who know everything, like how to get into the canteen after hours, and where the counselors go skinny-dipping.)
…but when I checked out the lineup of presenters for Q Los Angeles 2013, it was an easy “yes.”
I want to tell you all about it. But to do a recap on Q, like the one I wrote for Storyline last February, is a tricky proposition.
Q is a 3-day meeting of minds, great and small, like and different. It’s structured like the well-googled TED talks: a dizzying array of speakers, one after another, present on any topic you can imagine, in varying increments of time. It has the intellectual and spiritual effect of dancing in a crowded club under a strobe light. At first, you’re feeding off the constant energy and unrelenting stimulation. By the end, all you want is a drink of water and a blankie. (Hence the two-week lag on reporting back.)
Day One is exhilarating, after fielding all the personalities and information, you feel ready for a big meal and a fine sleep. Day Two…well, let’s just say that the prospect of Los Angeles traffic wasn’t the only reason I hesitated to get out of bed. Day Three was only a half day, and by then, a sort of seasoned resignation that gets you there, and the feeling that things are coming together exalts your focus in a last-day-of-Lent kind of way.
Since most of the presenters are limited to nine minutes (and some only got three!), their talks are hardly comprehensive on the subject they choose. More what they do is provide a string of pithy, provocative thoughts on their subject. You leave each 3-hour block with synapses popping, mostly due to ideas of your own, in response to the presentation.
Which is a good thing, don’t you agree?
Except that it results in more notes than a David Foster Wallace novel.
What I figure on doing is parlaying those thoughts into Converge posts for the next few weeks. Feel free to talk back to them–that’s the whole point. Q is intended mainly as a starter of discussion across denominational and cultural lines.In fact, the connections fostered over those three days were the best part of the conference, IMHO. I got to hang out with the radiant Joy Eggerichs (whom you’ll meet in Issue #12) and her posse of friends from around the country.
Besides passing out a lot of business cards and collecting even more, I enjoyed some serious, spirited conversations about sexuality legislation, the dark side of modesty, and the strange longevity of crap relationships.
Plus, there are the random people you meet between sessions, end up falling into intense, heartfelt conversation with. I talked with a consultant guy from Scotland, a youth pastor chick from my hometown, and a guy who plays Johnny Cash in a touring musical theatre production, and had a heady discourse on the perils of parenting with a businessman from I forget where, with our bare feet up on a bar table. (It was for a TOMs promotion…oh, never mind.)
Yeah, so anyway…
The next Q in is Nashville, Tenn. I know–it’s far. That makes me feel weird about saying “You should all go!” But here’s the thing: you know how TED does those branch conferences called TEDx, where it’s smaller and specific to a given region? Q does the same thing, or at least, they’ve done one. Some guy in Denver, Co. called up Gabe Lyons (who runs Q) and asked if he could put on a mini Q in his hometown, and apparently it went over like gangbusters.
Think about that, Vancouver. Or wherever you’re reading this from. If you want to get your community a little outside that box we all love to hate, Q is a great technique. The production is slick, the tone is civil, the atmosphere rife with current buzzwords (“storytelling!” “authenticity!”), but at its heart is a lot of Christian types who are trying to listen to each other.
Also, there’s a killer swag bag.
First up: we all listen as Gabe Lyons interviews the dude who started the KONY 2012 phenom, and ended by losing his…well, his clothes, for a start. Stay tuned.
