Stepping into Academia: My First Conference Experience

Scared, Excited, Grateful, and hopefully A First of Many!

I’ve finally sat down to gather my thoughts after what feels like the most exhilarating—and nerve-wracking—experience of my academic journey so far. In early May, I presented at the International Business Analytics Conference (IBAC) at SUNY Fredonia. It was my first academic conference ever, and I showed up feeling a tangled mix of emotions—scared, excited, deeply grateful, and hopeful that this will truly be a first of many such experiences.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could do it. The semester was wrapping up, other personal commitments were calling my attention, and the idea of preparing, traveling, and presenting felt overwhelming. Without someone behind me, I probably would have talked myself out of it. That someone was Dr. Gabby Resch, my supervisor. He encouraged me every step of the way—even though he couldn’t attend in person, he never let me feel alone. He checked in regularly, helped me fine-tune every detail, and quietly rooted for me. If it weren’t for his unwavering support, I might never have taken that leap. Presenting at my first conference literally wouldn’t have happened without him—and for that, I'm profoundly thankful.

The trip itself turned into an unexpected adventure. I crossed the border at Niagara feeling confident about the drive, but somewhere along the way, my GPS and I had a little… disagreement. I ended up going an hour and a half in the wrong direction before realizing it. By the time I got back on track and pulled into Fredonia, I had just about an hour before my presentation. No leisurely settling in, no quiet coffee to go over my notes—just a quick breath, a check in the mirror, and straight to the Williams Center to set up.

Standing in front of the audience, my nerves were still buzzing from the rush of getting there, but once I started, something shifted. I shared my work—Spatial Analysis Beyond Numbers, exploring Geographically Weighted Regression and MGWR in policy and research—and while I was proud of my delivery, I noticed there weren’t many questions afterward. At first, that felt a little disappointing. I worried that maybe I hadn’t connected with the audience. But later, in talking with one of the organizers, I learned that my topic was unusual for this conference and a bit more technical than what many attendees were used to. It wasn’t disinterest—it was simply new to them. That perspective turned the experience into something even more valuable: I had introduced fresh ideas to a new audience, and that in itself felt like an accomplishment.

Looking back, I’m especially moved by the gratitude I feel—not just for Gabby, but for the whole experience. I’m grateful for the opportunity, for the confidence I found in presenting my work, and for the proof that I can handle curveballs along the way. I left Fredonia buzzing with inspiration, hopeful that this was just the beginning of many more conferences, discussions, and collaborations in academia.

So here’s to that first step—scary, exciting, unexpected, and entirely worth it. If you’re eyeing your own first conference, my best advice: lean into the fear, and embrace the detours—both on the road and in life. You might be surprised at where you end up.