Volunteering/Working at the 2012 GAC?

[PeteDarwin]

Hey all, I'm just wondering what one can do in order to take part in the 2012 GAC whether working or volunteering. I'd just love a chance to give back a little and help out in any way I can at next year's GAC. Any info would be great :D

Pete

[davo]

Hiya, atm we are still working on the logistics of the volunteer setup and will be able to provide a way that those are interested can flag that with us in the future.

As you can imagine we have already had a huge response in regard this, and with the concept of fringe events we also promote that people look to working and supporting in that regard, as well as wait for further announcements.

We do appreciate the interest, there is a huge amount of it so far and have a dedicated committee member that will be organising volunteers as we get further down the track.

Stay tuned!

Dave

On Behalf,
2012 GAC Committee

[PeteDarwin]

Thanks a lot for that mate

[Perspective]

Count me in too!

[Darwinsbulldog]

And me!

[Praxis]

I've had my hand up to help since the last one finished :D

[Podblack]

I'm actually tweeting from the MCEC backstage where I got stuck after the last GAC, in the hope that if I just remain here, I'll be first in line for the next one!

...if it's held here again, that is. Please, bring food when you all arrive. I've been eating nothing but mints that Dawkins left behind. :(

[PeteDarwin]

Hahaha.

Does anyone know if the AFA itself require any volunteers in any way shape or form? I'd love to be more involved in things, assuming there's space for my involvement haha

[Praxis]

Does anyone know if the AFA itself require any volunteers in any way shape or form? I'd love to be more involved in things, assuming there's space for my involvement haha
Pete, so you don't spend a year making plaintive posts every few days along the "I want to help" line, I'm pretty sure the GAC committee will put out an announcement calling for volunteers when they're ready. There's no doubt rather a lot of other stuff they have to do in the meantime.

If you've signed up the newsletter, you'll get the news of when they want people to put their hands up to assist.

:)

Will we see you at the Melbourne End of the World party on 21 May by the way?

[PeteDarwin]

Pete, so you don't spend a year making plaintive posts every few days along the "I want to help" line, I'm pretty sure the GAC committee will put out an announcement calling for volunteers when they're ready. There's no doubt rather a lot of other stuff they have to do in the meantime.

If you've signed up the newsletter, you'll get the news of when they want people to put their hands up to assist.

:)

Will we see you at the Melbourne End of the World party on 21 May by the way?

No sweat Praxis. I'm fairly certain I'm on the newsletter and yeah hopefully I'll be making it to the Melbourne End of the World party just depends on work and study as always haha

[Bolero]

I iz VERY excited about the GAC!

I will be volunteering my butt off! Well, y'know, if they want me... :o

[PParth]

This is a bit of an old thread but I'd like to add as well that I would love to help out. I think it would a great for me to get involved seeing as that I'm a newbie here ;)

PParth

[djarm67]

I iz VERY excited about the GAC!

I will be volunteering my butt off! Well, y'know, if they want me... :o

I lold

[CivengMaster]

I'm also keen to join the army of volunteers at the GAC, it would be a great way to make friends and meet people since I'm not sure how many of my agnostic friends would want to join me there.

Would they be looking for people with any specific skills, or just looking for enthusiastic helpers?

[Worldslaziestbusker]

I am all for people volunteering for all the feel goodness factor and for the social camaraderie of involvement, but keep in mind that it can dent your ability to take full advantage of the presenters on offer. I attended all talks last year as a camera operator and was glad of the opportunity to contribute, but the demands of the role meant I didn't get a lot of time to socialise and the minutiae of the task meant that I didn't get to hear a lof of what was said until the DVD came out.
Leigh Raymond wrote an excellent account of her experience as a volunteer in 2010 for the AFA newsletter and I think it would a valuable addition to the thread if it could be reproduced here.

Sidebar: camera operators wear earphones and spend their day staring at a small screen, monitoring various parameters. If anyone talks to them it is usually to ask if they can step over some cabling, and the answer is always "No" for OH&S reasons, so the role is both isolating and makes you feel like a jerk. In spite of this, enough interesting conversations were had with strangers that the biggest buzz I got from the GAC 2010 was sharing space with upbeat people whose responses to anything I said did not need to be second guessed.
Black coffee, if you're in the mood to do a small kindness and are up for a chat.

[Podblack]

I am all for people volunteering for all the feel goodness factor and for the social camaraderie of involvement, but keep in mind that it can dent your ability to take full advantage of the presenters on offer. I attended all talks last year as a camera operator and was glad of the opportunity to contribute, but the demands of the role meant I didn't get a lot of time to socialise and the minutiae of the task meant that I didn't get to hear a lof of what was said until the DVD came out.
Leigh Raymond wrote an excellent account of her experience as a volunteer in 2010 for the AFA newsletter and I think it would a valuable addition to the thread if it could be reproduced here.

Sidebar: camera operators wear earphones and spend their day staring at a small screen, monitoring various parameters. If anyone talks to them it is usually to ask if they can step over some cabling, and the answer is always "No" for OH&S reasons, so the role is both isolating and makes you feel like a jerk. In spite of this, enough interesting conversations were had with strangers that the biggest buzz I got from the GAC 2010 was sharing space with upbeat people whose responses to anything I said did not need to be second guessed.
Black coffee, if you're in the mood to do a small kindness and are up for a chat.

Agreed. It's a job. I've vollyed at several conferences and it's a different experience - bit like backstage at the play rather than in the audience. Wear comfy shoes. Know that you'll miss things and accept it. Get to know your fellow volleys and be a team-player first and foremost and fanboi last. Bringing biscuits to Protium was a bit of an eye-opener in terms of how isolating it can be up in the soundbooth, doing the technical and being fully dedicated to the running. Very 'meta'.

Something I learned - I'll never use video in any powerpoint show of mine ever again!!! :/ :)

[Lord Blackadder]

So remember folks, if you're going to volunteer for the GAC, your number one priority is having a biscuit stash on hand for Protium. ;-)


Sent from my iPhone using magic technology thingy application thingy.

[Podblack]

So remember folks, if you're going to volunteer for the GAC, your number one priority is having a biscuit stash on hand for Protium. ;-)

OH MY NOT GOD THOSE BISCUITS WERE FANTASTIC!!! I loved morning teatime, I kept putting extras in my pocket and munching them later. :) I think I sneaked one back to my hotel room for a later snack too, actually.

[Antipotheosis]

I'm seriously considering volunteering. It depends on weather I can get the time off then from work to attend the event in the first place...

[CivengMaster]

Originally Posted by Podblack
be a team-player first and foremost and fanboi last

I'm not sure I could contain myself as this will be my first atheist convention and there are so many great atheists I want to hear.

Maybe next GAC I would be a more devoted volunteer. But I will check out the call for volunteers when it goes out and see if there is any roles which may suit me.

[Worldslaziestbusker]

Leigh Raymond wrote an excellent account of her experience as a volunteer in 2010 for the AFA newsletter and...

...here it is. Reproduced with permission of the author:

Brisbane, August 2009. Having just returned from two years of travel I was house-sitting for a friend in Indooroopilly. Broke, bored, spinning on her office chair and idly wondering if her cat really had gone missing this time, I decided to check Pharyngula, and discovered some exciting news. Atheist Convention. March. In Melbourne, which was exactly where I was planning to be at that time. With feverish speed I pointlessly checked my bank balance, and slumped. $8.53. No, wait. NEGATIVE $8.53. I sighed, then brightened, undeterred. I would volunteer. I contacted the AFA immediately and was rewarded with a delightful conversation with the secretary as to the relative merits of being called Lee or Leigh, along with the assurance that I was now officially on the list of volunteers.
“Yessssssssssss.” I said, punching the air with both fists and scaring the cat, who had returned bristling with leafy debris. I herded her into the kitchen by way of practice. Life was good.
Fast forward to the first volunteer meeting in January; I traipsed around the convention centre trying to look casual as I pushed futilely at locked doors. It was with relief that I spotted a fresh-faced but nervous looking group, a few of whom were clearly sporting the big red A on their shirts. I went forward and found out some of their names, which I promptly forgot. Briefed by the relentlessly charming Jason Ball, we wandered off in our different directions with plans to meet a month later.
Sometimes it’s good to look at things and wonder where they came from, and how it came to pass that they are in your possession. Those all-important lanyards that served as tickets during the Convention, for example. When the volunteers gathered some weeks later for a Saturday afternoon of “envelope-stuffing” we were in no way prepared for the highly technical process that was to follow. Boxes and boxes and boxes of tiny cards, plastic sleeves, colour-coded neck clips, envelopes and stickers awaited us, already immaculately ordered and numbered thanks to the ceaseless single-handed efforts of the formidable Tanya Smith. (Greater love hath no atheist than this, that she designeth a ticketing system in her Christmas break.) These had to be painstakingly counted and prepared and clipped together and sealed in envelopes and re-counted with trepidation lest some tiny mistake render the whole process a failure, necessitating a complete re-do.
By the end of a marathon session that lasted in excess of eight hours I think we’d all bonded. ”What on earth will atheists talk about?” religious types were asking at the time. Ha! We ripped through a concatenation of conversation topics with the shared delight of like-minded individuals. Admittedly after about seven hours there was a lull in which we were reduced to saying “...lanyard” occasionally, and snorting in hysterical laughter. By the way, did anyone encounter a dollar coin randomly included in their envelope? That was a brilliant idea concocted at about the 7 hour 12 minute mark. Maybe Margaret Coffey got it. Who knows.
The Friday of the convention I was enjoying a cuppa with my little brother (who’d flown in from Auckland to attend) on Southbank and who should walk past but PZ Myers himself.
“Oh hi P.Zed see you at the Convention!” I exclaimed, startling several seagulls.
“uh, yes...you will,” he replied, blinking in the Melbourne morning glare.
“That’s PZ Myers!” I hissed unnecessarily to my brother, who was covering his face in embarrassment. (Later in the Convention I got to be the 2 843rd person to ask poor Professor Myers when his book was coming out.)
Should I ever choose to attempt to do something with efficiency, I will model that efficiency on what I saw achieved by a mere handful of organisers at that Convention. You may have seen them in their black shirts walking the walk (swiftly on their way to sort out some newly arisen dilemma) and talking the talk (to the voices in their heads courtesy of their indispensible earpieces). They worked HARD. I have to admit that for me, the three days passed in a wondrous blur. I experienced moments of genuine trepidation seeing the huge crowds line up, squintingly searching for the relevant numbers on their print-outs. Then it was all numbers and numbers and questions and numbers and more numbers. (For those who felt like a bit of a dork for printing out the example page instead of your own confirmation number, you were by no means alone.) In between ducking into the hall to join the rapt audience in their appreciation of the words of all those fine minds, we were distributing tickets, working the merchandise table, policing microphones, moving boxes around.
Watching TED talks online doesn’t really prepare you for how different an experience it is to actually attend a massive event such as the GAC. Every single person involved would have been affected in a different way, and would have their own opinion as to the highlights of the weekend. For a few volunteers, these highlights include shenanigans involving rolling chairs, physics students, and acres of smooth convention centre floor in a momentarily empty foyer. For another, the chance to help out a fellow Spanish speaker with their registration. For still others, an opportunity to work with such an enthusiastic and committed group to bring atheism into the public eye. Although I suspect that more than one of the volunteers was disappointed that they didn’t get to pick Richard Dawkins up from the airport, we were unanimous in our agreement that we would volunteer again, as one put it, “in a heartbeat”.

So to those who would describe secular society as a fast-track to loneliness (for example, Archbishop Peter Jenson) I offer a vision of thirty vibrant, intelligent people crammed into the corner of a restaurant for a post-convention volunteer reunion dinner ─ a laughing group of newfound friends, disparate of background but united by a shared love of free thought. Watch as they raise their glasses: “...to the facts!”
To the facts.

[Lee]

...here it is. Reproduced with permission of the author:

Brisbane, August 2009. Having just returned from two years of travel I was house-sitting for a friend in Indooroopilly. Broke, bored, spinning on her office chair and idly wondering if her cat really had gone missing this time, I decided to check Pharyngula, and discovered some exciting news. Atheist Convention. March. In Melbourne, which was exactly where I was planning to be at that time. With feverish speed I pointlessly checked my bank balance, and slumped. $8.53. No, wait. NEGATIVE $8.53. I sighed, then brightened, undeterred. I would volunteer. I contacted the AFA immediately and was rewarded with a delightful conversation with the secretary as to the relative merits of being called Lee or Leigh, along with the assurance that I was now officially on the list of volunteers.
“Yessssssssssss.” I said, punching the air with both fists and scaring the cat, who had returned bristling with leafy debris. I herded her into the kitchen by way of practice. Life was good.
Fast forward to the first volunteer meeting in January; I traipsed around the convention centre trying to look casual as I pushed futilely at locked doors. It was with relief that I spotted a fresh-faced but nervous looking group, a few of whom were clearly sporting the big red A on their shirts. I went forward and found out some of their names, which I promptly forgot. Briefed by the relentlessly charming Jason Ball, we wandered off in our different directions with plans to meet a month later.
Sometimes it’s good to look at things and wonder where they came from, and how it came to pass that they are in your possession. Those all-important lanyards that served as tickets during the Convention, for example. When the volunteers gathered some weeks later for a Saturday afternoon of “envelope-stuffing” we were in no way prepared for the highly technical process that was to follow. Boxes and boxes and boxes of tiny cards, plastic sleeves, colour-coded neck clips, envelopes and stickers awaited us, already immaculately ordered and numbered thanks to the ceaseless single-handed efforts of the formidable Tanya Smith. (Greater love hath no atheist than this, that she designeth a ticketing system in her Christmas break.) These had to be painstakingly counted and prepared and clipped together and sealed in envelopes and re-counted with trepidation lest some tiny mistake render the whole process a failure, necessitating a complete re-do.
By the end of a marathon session that lasted in excess of eight hours I think we’d all bonded. ”What on earth will atheists talk about?” religious types were asking at the time. Ha! We ripped through a concatenation of conversation topics with the shared delight of like-minded individuals. Admittedly after about seven hours there was a lull in which we were reduced to saying “...lanyard” occasionally, and snorting in hysterical laughter. By the way, did anyone encounter a dollar coin randomly included in their envelope? That was a brilliant idea concocted at about the 7 hour 12 minute mark. Maybe Margaret Coffey got it. Who knows.
The Friday of the convention I was enjoying a cuppa with my little brother (who’d flown in from Auckland to attend) on Southbank and who should walk past but PZ Myers himself.
“Oh hi P.Zed see you at the Convention!” I exclaimed, startling several seagulls.
“uh, yes...you will,” he replied, blinking in the Melbourne morning glare.
“That’s PZ Myers!” I hissed unnecessarily to my brother, who was covering his face in embarrassment. (Later in the Convention I got to be the 2 843rd person to ask poor Professor Myers when his book was coming out.)
Should I ever choose to attempt to do something with efficiency, I will model that efficiency on what I saw achieved by a mere handful of organisers at that Convention. You may have seen them in their black shirts walking the walk (swiftly on their way to sort out some newly arisen dilemma) and talking the talk (to the voices in their heads courtesy of their indispensible earpieces). They worked HARD. I have to admit that for me, the three days passed in a wondrous blur. I experienced moments of genuine trepidation seeing the huge crowds line up, squintingly searching for the relevant numbers on their print-outs. Then it was all numbers and numbers and questions and numbers and more numbers. (For those who felt like a bit of a dork for printing out the example page instead of your own confirmation number, you were by no means alone.) In between ducking into the hall to join the rapt audience in their appreciation of the words of all those fine minds, we were distributing tickets, working the merchandise table, policing microphones, moving boxes around.
Watching TED talks online doesn’t really prepare you for how different an experience it is to actually attend a massive event such as the GAC. Every single person involved would have been affected in a different way, and would have their own opinion as to the highlights of the weekend. For a few volunteers, these highlights include shenanigans involving rolling chairs, physics students, and acres of smooth convention centre floor in a momentarily empty foyer. For another, the chance to help out a fellow Spanish speaker with their registration. For still others, an opportunity to work with such an enthusiastic and committed group to bring atheism into the public eye. Although I suspect that more than one of the volunteers was disappointed that they didn’t get to pick Richard Dawkins up from the airport, we were unanimous in our agreement that we would volunteer again, as one put it, “in a heartbeat”.

So to those who would describe secular society as a fast-track to loneliness (for example, Archbishop Peter Jenson) I offer a vision of thirty vibrant, intelligent people crammed into the corner of a restaurant for a post-convention volunteer reunion dinner ─ a laughing group of newfound friends, disparate of background but united by a shared love of free thought. Watch as they raise their glasses: “...to the facts!”
To the facts.

*sniff* It brought a tear to my eye reading it again. Leigh's article was called Lanyards ho! A Volunteer's journey. Ah memories. :)