This post was inspired by people at #ICRMC26 asking me whether I was enjoying the conference. That question always makes me hesitate, which I think worries the questioner. The answer is not an unqualified ‘yes’, because it’s a lot of work and by the time we get there each year I’m usually very low on spoons. But it’s certainly not ‘no’.

I guess I have a unique perspective on the International Creative Research Methods Conference. It’s one of my passion projects which I hope will form part of my legacy. (The others are the Journal of Creative Research Methods and the Independent Research Ethics Committee.) I knew the creative research methods community needed a place to gather and exchange ideas, and I have been – and am – very glad to be able to help make that happen.

For me, as for the organising team, the conference is a constant priority. We are currently collecting feedback from #ICRMC26 and considering the lessons from that feedback and how we might implement them at #ICRMC27. The call for proposals for #ICRMC27 will go out in a couple of weeks. There are always jobs to be done, all year round, and we meet together regularly throughout the year to ensure everything is on track.

The organising team are amazing and I couldn’t do this without them. We are all so, so lucky to have such a great group of dedicated people supporting the conference.

People are sometimes surprised to hear that I don’t go to any of the presentations apart from the keynotes. This does not imply a lack of interest! The programme is always fascinating, and in the first year I did go to one presentation on the Monday afternoon, but I couldn’t take it in because there was already too much in my head. I realised then that my role is to host the conference, talk to as many people as possible, and help with any jobs that need doing along the way. So that’s what I do, and I have downtime when the sessions are running, or longer chats with people who are also taking a break.

Aspects of the conference I enjoy include seeing people connecting with each other in the breaks, meeting other creative researchers, and working with the excellent staff at our lovely venue The Studio. I love how equitable it is, how free of egos and competition. I appreciated the young delegate who looked at me sternly one lunchtime and demanded to know whether I had eaten (I had, earlier than everyone else so I could spend more time meeting people). I am grateful for the quiet room where I can go to recharge. The conference is a job of work, for me and the other members of the organising team, but it is work we all love.

This year, in the feedback, people have talked of me as a pioneer, a changemaker, and a legend. These are lovely compliments but I think they are overstating the case. Yes, I am enacting some leadership around creative research methods at present, but I’m far from the only person doing that; many conference delegates are too. And you know what I learned this year? Because of the squeeze on university funding, some delegates booked annual leave and paid for their own tickets to make sure they could get to the conference. That is evidence of the community’s commitment to creative research methods, and in my view this is what we should be recognising and celebrating.

I’m glad to be able to contribute to the development and strengthening of the creative research methods community which is a terrific group of people doing amazing work. But the conference wouldn’t happen without all of us, as it has no external funding and only a little sponsorship, so we depend on ticket sales. Every single ticket bought, or bursary funded, helps the conference to exist. As one delegate commented when I pointed this out, ‘It takes a village.’ (I have forgotten who said this to me, so if it was you or you know who it was, please tell me in the comments so I can give appropriate credit.)

Also, the change we are making is not made by any one individual. We are creating change collectively; we are all pioneers. Yes, my contribution is important at present, but it’s not all down to me. If I couldn’t come one year for some reason, the conference would still happen, and it would still be excellent. People miss regular conference-goers: this year people missed Dawn Mannay, Kate Carruthers Thomas, and the Lawnmowers, and last year people missed Jess Mannion and Charlotte Marshall. So if I wasn’t there, people would miss me, too – but, as they say, the show would go on.