What I Learned About Community at a Tech Conference And Why It Changed Everything

For the past six months, I've been carrying a weight I couldn't name. It settled in my chest like a fog, making every day of work feel muted and uncertain.

What I mistook for frustration over the challenges facing DEI work and social cause institutions was actually grief - the kind that comes when something you've tended like a garden becomes barren ground.

You know when you've spent years nurturing something you believed in? When you've poured yourself into building something that felt like it was working, helping, creating ripples of positive change? Yusef and I, along with our team, had cultivated Hyphens & Spaces into something that sustained our family and supported our community. Even if the change felt incremental, it was real and net positive in our small corner of the earth.

When the client conversations came to an abrupt halt and outreach efforts were met with silence, I found myself questioning whether what I had to offer was still valuable, whether there was still ground fertile enough for this work to take root again.

An Unexpected Gift

In early August, I was selected to speak at the Tessitura Conference as part of their Innovator Series. Kristen Olson, the Vice President of Learning Community at Tessitura, and also happens to be my former manager at a theater box office work-study position during college, invited me to this platform with a powerful lineup of speakers.

Standing in front of that audience, it felt empowering to connect with my voice again after months of retraction and silent reflection. Sharing the same kinds of insights I write about in these newsletters, I was among people who were eager, open to the message, and lovingly willing to hear what I had to share. It reminded me why I do this work - not just the intellectual why, but the soul-deep knowing that had gotten buried under months of uncertainty.

But here's what really stopped me in my tracks: I witnessed something truly special - a professional community that felt uniquely genuine and collaborative. It was like discovering a particularly vibrant oasis, where the sense of shared purpose and mutual support was both immediate and authentic.

See Samira Abdul-Karim’s full TLCC 2025 Innovator Series session.

I've been to conferences before–organizational events, retreats, and gatherings of professional associations. But this was different.

For context, Tessitura is a software nonprofit that provides CRM and other services to cultural institutions (think museums, theater houses, concert halls, etc.). Conference attendees were folks who manage this software in their institutions, as well as vendors serving these institutions, their organizational leaders, program staff, and others invested in the arts. These are organizations under tremendous strain right now - funding cuts, attacks on the arts, especially at the intersection of arts and social movements. The pressure is real.

Yet at this conference, I watched people from different aspects of the field come together and be fully themselves. Not the polished, professional versions we often bring to work events, but genuinely, authentically themselves.

Yes, people brought challenges from their institutions. There were disagreements and different approaches to similar problems. But what struck me was how everyone approached each other with curiosity. There was a real opportunity for learning, for networking, for being moved by personal stories. People were willing to be vulnerable and to let themselves be changed by what they heard.

And it wasn't just feel-good networking. This is a technology company, after all. There were serious technical training sessions, troubleshooting, problem-solving - the practical work that keeps these institutions running.

The Investment That Pays Itself Back

What was really powerful was witnessing the return on Tessitura's investment in community. With leaders like Kristen at the helm, they've built something that creates its own momentum.

This tech company has 80+ volunteers leading community conversations ongoingly, supporting each other with the technology, and thinking about innovative new applications. People were volunteering to work with this company, not because they had to, but because they wanted to be part of what was being built.

Now contrast this with how most major tech companies operate: they develop products in isolation, release them to the public, then scramble to fix problems after the damage is done. Think about all the issues with coded bias, algorithmic harm, and products that completely miss the mark on user needs.

But what if tech companies embraced this community-driven model instead? What if they created these organic, innovative incubators where diverse voices were actively involved from the ground up - not as an afterthought, but as co-creators? You'd have people from different backgrounds, industries, and perspectives constantly testing, refining, and reimagining applications.

This isn't just about better products - it's about building technology that actually serves people because those people helped shape it. You'd catch bias before it's coded in. You'd spot harmful applications before they scale. You'd discover use cases the original developers never imagined.

The result? You'd essentially have a continual feedback loop and collective investment in what you're building. Your audience wouldn't just be users - they'd be stakeholders who are genuinely invested in your success because they helped create it.

Beyond the Business Case

Setting aside the obvious business benefits, what moved me most was that they'd created something people were genuinely drawn to, passionate about, invested in. People cared.

Whether you work in ticketing, outreach, sales, marketing, or any other aspect of supporting cultural institutions, you're in this work because you care about the arts. You see the value, the importance of what these organizations do for our communities.

This is what allows what they've built to sustain. It's not just about the technology - it's about enabling something bigger than themselves.

I witnessed people who don't have to be artists to want to celebrate artwork. Just like you don't have to be a farmer to understand the value of food production and distribution.

What If We All Operated This Way?

This experience has me thinking: what if we brought this same mentality to all our workplaces?

What if instead of building products or services in isolation, we built them in genuine partnership with the communities they're meant to serve?

What if we created spaces where people could be fully themselves while doing meaningful work together?

What if we invested in community not as a marketing strategy, but as a fundamental way of operating?

The Tessitura community showed me what's possible when an organization genuinely cares about what they're doing and what that enables others to do. They've created something where the work itself becomes a celebration of shared values.

Moving Forward

I'm still processing what this experience means for Hyphens & Spaces, for the work we do, for how we show up in the world. But I know this: being reminded of what genuine community feels like has rekindled something in me that I didn't realize had dimmed.

We need more organizations that operate this way. We need more leaders who understand that investing in community isn't just good business - it's good humanity.

And we need more spaces where people can bring their whole selves to work that matters.

This Week's Reflection Questions:

• What would a genuine community look like in your workplace?

• How might your organization's work be enhanced by truly including the people it serves?

• Where do you feel most fully yourself while doing meaningful work?

With renewed energy,

Samira

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Thank you to Kristen Olson and the entire Tessitura community for reminding me what's possible when we build together.