Virtual conferences and me

My first-ever virtual conference took place September 17 to 19. It was for one of my professional organizations, American Copy Editors Society (ACES). It was huge, with over 500 attendees, I believe.

Yet it felt so small, because, like all the other participants, I attended in my home—in my case, in the little office I set up in the smaller bedroom of my condo. And I was by myself the whole time, save for the people on my laptop screen.

Now that I have attended a virtual conference, I can say that there are advantages and disadvantages compared to an in-person conference.

First, it really doesn’t matter what you wear. I wore classy T-shirts, but not the fancy blouses I wore to the in-person EFA conference two years ago. I also wore sweatpants. Nobody could see them. Now, I am a person who works well and efficiently in sweats and T-shirts. Not everybody does, and if you find yourself feeling lazy in such attire, then dress to impress, even if you are only impressing your laptop.

Second, there are much fewer expenses. No airfare and no hotel room. Only the registration fee (which isn’t exactly cheap, but less expensive than the same fee at an in-person conference).

The biggest disadvantage of a virtual conference, however, is that networking is much more difficult—and a large part of the reason people go to conferences is to network, right? VCON 25 had a feature after each day of sessions in which people would enter a “welcome room” and then go into a chat room, where you could see an avatar for each person, hear their voice, and have a conversation. Not a zillionth as much fun as meeting people at a welcome reception in a hotel.

And although the sessions were wonderfully informative for the most part—so much so that I downloaded the slide decks from four of them—let’s face it: it’s tiresome to sit on your chair for hours viewing webinar after webinar or listening to a keynote speech. Especially when your chair is not ergonomic, like mine isn’t.

All in all, I have to say that a virtual conference is all the information of an in-person conference with none of the fun. I don’t think I will do this again.

The boundaries that editors must put up

Two weeks ago, I blogged about work-health balance for everybody. This post is somewhat related to that topic. I’m going to discuss the boundaries that editors must put up regarding their time.

Note that I specifically said boundaries, not walls. There’s a big difference between the two. Walls do not let anything in or out. Nothing can cross them. If there are walls between you and your clients, you are not interacting with them at all. This would, of course, defeat the whole purpose of your editing business.

Boundaries, however, are at least somewhat permeable. When you have boundaries between yourself and your clients, you are interacting with them. The interaction, however, needs to be healthy. That’s why the boundaries are there.

As an editor, you first and foremost need to establish boundaries regarding your time. This means that you have hours when you work and hours when you don’t, and you need to communicate this to your clients in some way, especially if a client is on the needy side. If a client calls you at 8:00 pm wanting to ask questions or discuss an issue, and you shut down your computer at 5:00 pm, don’t give in. Politely explain that your working hours are between 8:00 am and 5:00 pm (or whenever), and that you would be happy to discuss things with them in the morning (if at all possible, give a specific time).

Establishing boundaries regarding your time also includes your breaks during the day. It is best not to answer phone calls from clients during your lunch break, as I learned about five years ago. A client called me while I was heating up some food, and when I explained that I was fixing my lunch, they said, “Is it a hot lunch? I really need to talk to you.”

It is important to note that working late to make a deadline is a whole other animal and is not, repeat, not a violation of one’s time boundaries. I have burned the 10:00 pm oil on more than one project (but thankfully, not too many) and I am not ashamed of it at all. Sometimes this is required, even though the work was planned carefully.

What kinds of boundaries do you normally set regarding communicating with clients?

What I wish they knew

I worked in scientific research laboratories for eight years. It wasn’t easy, given that I have cerebral palsy (CP).

Now, I would like to clarify that my case of CP is not severe—meaning that I do not use a wheelchair or other assistive device, and I am able to speak. However, it does affect my gait and fine motor coordination.

Many (but thankfully not all) of my lab coworkers did not understand what it was like to do experiments and procedures with such a disability. I wish they had known the following back then:

  • It takes me longer to do certain procedures. Not all procedures, but certain ones. I had to work deliberately to load a DNA sequencing gel (boy, is that ever a throwback) so my samples would not disappear into the buffer, or to split cultures of cells (among some other procedures about which I won’t go into detail). I have actually had a boss gripe at me, “What’s taking so long?” more than once. And a professor I once had for a class in cell culture was concerned that I was often the last student to finish working at the end of the lab period.
  • Working with CP is often very frustrating, and so I often grunt when I accidentally tear, drop, or break something because I cannot satisfactorily control my hands. “Stop grunting!” someone will often say. Well, at least I don’t swear.
  • Again, because working with CP is frustrating, I cry once in a while. Some folks may think this is very unprofessional. I think it’s very cleansing. I can’t help if I feel distraught.  However, I don’t let it all out until I have had a chance to go to the restroom.

Like many disabilities, CP is one of those where one says, “If you don’t have it, you don’t get it.”

What are your thoughts?

The balancing act

We hear a lot of talk about work-life balance, and “life” in this case includes our health. After all, we must work in order to earn money for food and healthcare in order to stay healthy, but we need to stay in good health in order to do quality work for our employers.

I have to admit that there have been times in my life when I did not have a good work-health balance, and I learned a lot from those times. Please allow me to share some lessons I acquired over the years.

  • Go to the doctor when you need to. If you feel really sick, call in sick. If your employer requires a note from the doctor, don’t feel intimidated about asking for one. If you go to work while sick, you will definitely not do your best work.
    • Eat lunch. Even if you don’t feel hungry during your designated lunch break, eat something. Your body will thank you later. Don’t take a two-hour lunch, but eat something. (No, I have never taken a two-hour lunch, but I have made the mistake of not eating. I did not do quality work later when I was hungry and weak.)
    • If you have a diagnosed medical condition, don’t skip or put off maintenance doctor appointments because you are afraid of missing work. (You may need to consult the next person up in the chain of command if your supervisor gives you a hard time about this.) After all, if you have been diagnosed with cancer or thyroid disease or anything that won’t be solved in one visit, you won’t be doing yourself or anyone else any favors if you ignore it.
    • Remember that mental health is health, too. Yes, there exists a lot of stigma about going to a therapist or taking psychotropic medication, but when your mental health is good, your work output will be good, too—at least, it has a much higher probability of being good.

    What are your thoughts on the work-health balance?

    Please be kind to your editor.

    Please respect your editor—especially your editor with a disability.

    Many people don’t picture editors as having disabilities. After all, “an editor is supposed to know about writing better than I do.”

    But many disabilities are invisible, and an editor can have a disability which is either invisible or more visible.

    An editor can be blind. I personally have never known a blind editor, but I know a legally blind attorney. This person’s profession requires a lot of reading and writing. She has done a fabulous job as an attorney using accommodations, such as someone reading her documents out loud and a computer program which enlarges all of the font on her screen. I can certainly picture such accommodations helping an editor who is visually impaired.

    An editor can struggle with a disease that requires many medical visits, such as cancer that requires chemotherapy or a kidney problem that requires dialysis. This editor does their very best to meet your deadline, but they may possibly have to renegotiate if their treatments cause them to become sick or weak.

    An editor may also get pregnant (not a disability, but a condition nonetheless) and have to go on maternity leave, even if she is self-employed; she will need time to get adjusted to a new member of her family. Even after she returns to work, don’t be surprised if you hear squalling in the background during the next Zoom call with her.

    An editor may have a learning disability. Please don’t write them off. A better term for such a condition is “learning difference.” This editor can learn just as well as you can. They just have to do it in a different way—one which was probably not available to them in school. They can edit just as well as other editors, but they need to do it in a different way. When they were a child, they most likely dealt with ridicule from their teachers and peers while their parents swam through the ordeal of getting them a 504 plan. Not fun for anyone.

    Please be kind to your editor.