The Greatest Story I Could Live
As I was docked in a LinkedIn post, I could see the speakers on stage talking about their work. They spoke about the impact that we all make in a few lives around us.
I was part of the email that our founder sent to the CFO — Kalicharrann, a night before. They both discussed the numbers.
I could anticipate the ethos in the entire experience, the audience stopping by our booth, our team explaining what we do and why it is so important for somebody in the world, and every ounce of energy that we had enthused in the product in last eight months.
The numbers suggested that it was immature to think of the participants giving any attention to me when in their hands. Regardless of whether they are scientists, motivated, or intellectual, they are trying to make a positive difference in something.
The participants had purchased tickets. For INR 3200.
They took a chance. Why not me?
They have nothing to sell. They have only to learn, to boast of, or they came here for the food.
Compared to that, I should be more excited about it, considering my stakes.
Why do people celebrate no fuel day? Or, a world hugs day, or an earth day. Because they care.
We all care.
I too. Should.
Not only because I am a brand but because the audience in my positioning orbit deserves a better effort by me.
“Have you heard of this company in Mohali?” It sounded crushing when I overheard two individuals talking about me.
Should I be on the radio — I questioned myself. I am not an Amazon or Facebook, so how will they know about me?
It is not about the conversions, it is also about the credibility. It was important to communicate what we do, and why.
I was set up in the booth for so many kinds of successes.
If the first step was to share what we do and why, the next goal was to understand — why the audience should care?
So if I indicated that the product is for shared project roadmaps, or car parking, or doctor appointments, why the audience should care?
I was relevant to many people’s needs and wants there — I invited visits to the booth — I saw discussions and curiosity.
If we will do it right after the conference, the people will come. Conversions. I might be remembered — I thought.
A gentleman who visited us at the sponsorship booth applied for an open position eight months after the conference. You talk about the ROI; it is much beyond the numbers in any spreadsheet.
The sunshine in the beautiful city, the greens around the wide and clean city roads, and the energy of doing something massive and positive.
In a way it was not too different from the mid-1940s in India where people could anticipate a change, they wanted it, they could sense it but not all of them were sure if they were prepared for it.
The goal of any conference is to help the sponsors leverage the time as much as possible. We ran a contest around. I was on a balloon, on a cardboard, and even on a cheek too.
I welcomed it, and I was welcomed. It was immersive for the story and not for the numbers.
I recalled Julian Baggini’s essay on Aeon, where Julian says — “We can temper our optimism with skepticism. If we play our cards right, the new world of enthusiastic intellectual exchange and creative openness can be — perhaps there is no better word for it — awesome.”
The spreadsheets made way for the story arcs for the time being.
I had to.
On our road to awesomeness.
I was sponsored.
Like a child.
The conference raised me from a child to an adult. I am that logo.
This is my ALT tag to comply with all the engines. A child to be raised by a conference. The call for sponsors are open for the Outcome 2020.
… to be continued
PS: In part two of the story, I will share what happened after the conference raised me to an adult. Let me grow up to be able to vote first. I am that logo on the Outcome conference sponsorship booth.
Photo credits: Unsplash