A Day in the Life of a Conference Organizer

12:07am Presenter Wrangler shows me a text saying that one of our presenters has to cancel for personal reasons. Panic! Relax! Laugh! Step onto patio and talk to other presenter who was going to present on customer service. Ask him if he would be willing to do his investigations presentation in addition to his customer service one. He agrees.

12:20 Return to Settlers of Catan game with fresh cup of hot chocolate. Tell Presenter Wrangler he can stop panicking. Other players look at us quizzically. We explain that we had to replace a presenter.

12:34 Hand off my seat in Settlers marathon to a newly arrived judge and set about cleaning up the mess in my kitchen. Lobster, bison steaks, elote, grilled squash and zucchini, and rice pilaf with wild mushrooms left quite a mess. Gotta love judge cooking!

12:42 Another presenter joins me in the kitchen to go over his presentation. Try to pay attention while loading dishwasher. Make mental notes to require presenters to submit final versions of presentations a month before the conference. Laugh at my own mental note and know that no matter how early they submit them, there will always be last minute changes.

1:08 Soft knock at front door. Open it to receive a huge hug from a soggy presenter arriving late in the rain. So excited to see him. So exhausted from finishing the nametags and signage, cooking dinner, and putting my kids to bed.

1:26 Finally headed to bed! Seven other conference attendees/presenters, 3 kids, 3 cats, and 1 husband/presenter all in bed. Bags, boxes, crates packed and ready to go.

6:48 Noises from upstairs. Darn kids! Tiptoe into kitchen to start coffee. Go upstairs to tell kids to get dressed quietly and not wake judges.

7:00 Alarm Goes Off. Run to bedroom to silence it. See husband sleeping peacefully.

7:04 Quick shower while mentally inventorying everything I packed last night: judge bag, laptop, blue tape, signage, nametags, whiteboard and markers, printer, scotch tape, shoes that a judge left at my house months ago, venue and catering contracts, gum, door prizes, acrylic stands, my shirt,  . . .

7:25 Throw on pants, shoes, undershirt. Run to kitchen to make husband's coffee drink. Start more coffee. Look out window and note gloomy rain continues.

7:31 Put on makeup, earrings. Style hair. Put on regional polo.

7:35 Point out fruit and yogurt to hungry judges.

7:38 Argue with children that they must wear clothing. Try to convince 3 year old that 3 shirts does not equal a complete outfit.

7:42 Help children with breakfast. Administer antibiotics to 3 year old for ear infection. Give pill to 5 year old with bladder condition. Remind children that eating cereal requires a bowl. Children ask why they cannot just eat it off the table.

8:03 Load car with help from judges. Grumble about gloomy rain and wet stuff. Conference staff and some presenters head to venue. (The rest will follow later.)

8:07 Set off! Enjoy the few moments alone in my car to organize my thoughts and prepare for the day. Try not to hydroplane on wet roads. Make mental note that no time of year is 'safe' to host an event in Texas that does not have potential for heatstroke deaths, blizzards, or flash floods.

8:27 Arrive at venue. Wonder why 2 police cars are parked at the entrance. Encounter a conference staff member arriving and unloading his stuff.

8:29 Park car under covered loading area between 2 police cars. Ask a presenter I walking past to help me unload my car. Grab a luggage cart and start piling stuff on it. Send friend to drive it into conference area.

8:35 Greet Hotel Manager. He tells me that Catering Manager is going to be late if she arrives at all due to weather. Secretly hope we have food for lunch.

8:40 Walk into conference area with Hotel Manager to see that prefunction space looks great. While the registration table is not the horseshoe I requested, it will work. The coffee, tea, and water station is set, stocked, and ready. Request an additional table to use for several other needs since the registration area is small. Hotel Manager agrees.

8:43 Step into the ballroom to see that only 2/3 of the room is set. The hotel has pulled an airwall and set only part of the space that we agreed to in the contract. Panic! Ask Hotel Manager. He says that our number is small enough to all fit in the smaller space. I agree that it is, but that we had planned 3 tracks of content and planned to use all 3 sections for our afternoon breakout sessions. Secretly grumble that just because you can shove more people in a small space, it doesn't mean that you should! Look into the 3rd section and see that is is set classroom style and will still work for the afternoon. Tell Hotel Manager that it will be perfect just like it is and do not ask if we can use it, but simply tell him that we will. Remind him of the slight change to the time we will need the airwall pulled in the first rooms and ask for some table skirting for the prefunction table before we part ways.

8:52 Verify that my staff is mostly present and seem to be doing setup things.

8:53 Flip my laptop open to send updated attendee list to staff member doing check in. Grumble that I forgot to get the internet password from the hotel.

8:57 Get a call from a staff member who is at Starbucks and wants to bring me hot chocolate. Remember that I have the best conference staff ever.

9:01 Get a text from an attendee apologizing for not being able to attend.

9:05 See that my staff members have opened the registration table. Right on time. I love these guys!

9:12 Field a request from the Streaming Manager that he needs help with getting the internet set up. Set off to find Hotel Manager and ask him to help.

9:26 Move my stuff to the newly set up table in the prefunction area that will act as my 'show office' as well as a distribution point for regional judge polos in the morning, and a pick up station for Rules Lawyer promos during the lunch break.

9:31 Pull out signage and begin setting it up: drop-ins for the breakout rooms, notes in acrylic stands labeling the pickup table and registrations, and of course the "In Bolas's Clutches" signs for the restroom doors. Our RC suggested the idea and it was too funny not to do it.

9:57 I've greeted about a million people, trying to make a personal connection with each one showing appreciation that they chose to attend, answering questions, directing traffic. We realize that we have fielded a large number of rain related delays due to flash flooding and decide to delay the conference 10 minutes to allow as many people as possible to arrive before we begin. While I generally prefer to respect people's time and start on time, the severity of the weather and the tighter than planned room would lead to a large number of people trying to enter late and would cause a lot of disruption.

9:59 Streaming Manager hands me a microphone pack. Struggle to attach the belt clip and finally manage to arrange the microphone on my lapel in such a way that it doesn’t cause the front of my shirt to look lopsided.

10:02 Check the room. It's filling up. Wish for the extra space, but decide that the smaller space allows better viewing for powerpoints at the front of the room.

10:05 Confirm that everything is ready. Confirm that RC is ready for keynote.

10:10 Get the thumbs up from Streaming Manager, flip on my microphone, and greet the attendees. Open by thanking everyone for attending, especially with traveling in the rain. Mention that we have decided to do announcements and door prizes after the first speaker and conclude by handing it off to our RC for his keynote.

10:12 Drink water. Check in at registration. Check in with Presenter Wrangler.

10:15 Verify with the judge who coordinated the shirt order that things are ready for his shirt distribution plan.

10:22 Meet with Hotel Manager and finally arrived Catering Manager to sign final contracts and payments. Remind them about lunch and 2 special food needs (GF and vegan).

10:34 Realize that breakfast and a hot chocolate are waiting for me in my 'office.' Have no idea what wonderful humans did this, but appreciate them a ton. Mental note: best staff ever!

10:41 Resume greeter duties connecting with judges and helping them get seated with as little disruption as possible. Even catch a few snippets of the keynote.

11:00 Realize that Keynote is going to go long. Mentally try to calculate how long based on my proofreading of the slides and how much I know is left. Groan.

11:10 No sign of stopping despite my cueing.

11:15 Less subtle nudge.

11:21 Finally done.

11:22 Take the microphone, thank RC, ask conference staff to come forward for door prize distribution.

11:24 Staffer draws names out of a Whataburger bag and we hand out a variety of playmats, t-shirts, judge swag, and regional swag.

11:35 Ask the entire conference staff to step forward and I ask a local judge/artist to come up as well. They present the staff with the amazing custom playmats I had them design as a staff gift.

11:40 Introduce the speaker for our general session and hand it over to him.

11:42 Drink more hot chocolate.

11:57 Sit down with TO for regionals to go over plans for that event.

12:20 Escape never ending conversation to check on lunch. Relief there is food. Panic at how little food there is.

12:25 Find out that Catering Manager has left. Grumble.

12:27 Find the single hotel employee in charge of setting up our food. He does not speak English. Switch to Spanish and learn that he has only set out about ⅓ of the food and will be replenishing it as people eat. Suggest he set out more. Secretly think about how much judges eat. Worry about food. He has no idea what I am talking about when I mention the meals for folks with dietary needs. Convince him to make me some salads.

12:30 Duck into the ballroom just as the presentation is moving to the last part. Good!

12:37 Get 1 salad. Hand deliver it to vegan so he will have lunch.

12:45 Presentation wraps up. Make announcements about lunch including the group photo afterwards. Attendees beeline for the food table. Fear for the life of that 1 poor guy trying to replenish the food.

12:47 Watch attendees load plates with gigantic sandwiches, potato salad, chips, pickles, and cookies. Remember that I haven’t eaten breakfast yet.

12:52 Socialize with attendees welcoming those who I missed earlier. Answer questions about the event, the region, the weather,  . . .

1:20 See that there is not enough food. I knew it wasn’t going to be enough when I saw it earlier!

1:37 Locate Hotel Manager and demand more food. He grudgingly complies and the one server delivers additional sandwich makings.

1:33 Ask the photographer where we should do group photo. Agree on outside since rain has started to clear.

1:45 Make announcement about group photo outside. Since attendees were eating at the banquet tables from the morning sessions, this outdoor break lets us reset the room into 2 smaller rooms for our afternoon breakouts.

1:47 Hotel staff pulls airwall right on time. Relief!

1:55 Run outside to jump into group picture with other staff members.

1:56 Shoo everyone back inside for afternoon breakout sessions.

2:00 Sigh with relief as breakouts start on time. Contemplate sitting down for a minute. Decide to check on lunch leftovers. Grumble. No cookies left.

2:37 See a judge unconscious in a chair in the lobby. Panic! Verify that he is asleep, not dead. Remember that he drove a carload of folks who came in from far away. Decide that he needs the sleep.

2:50 Check all 3 breakouts to ensure end times. Am pleasantly surprised.

2:54 Am asked by a judge if we can talk. Agree to chat with him during next session.

3:01 Next breakouts started on time.

3:04 Sit down with judge who wants to talk. Discuss his concern and strategies to work on his issue. Come up with a concrete plan for him moving forward. Agree on follow-up steps.

3:32 Slip into a room to listen to part of a presentation. Feel the tension in the room and know that things are not going well. Stay a listen a bit. See that the presenter has lost control of his audience. Note that some judges in the audience seem perplexed, annoyed, or lost. Mental note: Look over this presenter’s evaluations and work with him before he presents again.

3:39 Prepare for afternoon break as presentations end. Verify that RC is set to hand out Rules Lawyers during break. Remind hotel staff to refresh beverage station.

4:02 Accept feedback on conference from eager attendee.

4:07 More greeter duties. Talk to lots of judges about lots of stuff.

4:15 Relief when break ends and judges all go to next breakout session.

Insert cheesy montage of judges, breakouts, and paperwork.

5:47 Check with conference staff. Presenter Wrangler and staffer have set up check-out table to distribute folis. Remember my staff is the best.

6:05 Pop in to each breakout room to make quick announcement about checking out and receiving foils. Manage to catch each one as it ends.

6:14 Thank attendees as they leave. Follow up on earlier questions and make plans for future events.

6:32 Relieved that most have left. Staff breaking down rooms.

6:34 Pack up signage.

6:37 Start loading car with printer, whiteboard, nametag holders to reuse, etc.

6:48 Verify that rooms are spotless and staff is done.

6:50 Finalize staff dinner location and send Presenter Wrangler to get a table.

6:54 Locate Hotel Manager to say goodbye. He tells me surreptitiously that some of my judges spent the afternoon drinking at the bar. Sigh. Hope it was during lunch break. Hope they weren’t driving home.

7:12 Hop into my car. Wonderful silence. Head to staff dinner.

7:28 Arrive at restaurant to find three times expected number of humans. Turns out some of my staff were traveling in full cars. Sigh at yet another loud, crowded space.

7:30 Relax and enjoy the company, the food, and the satisfaction of a conference well done.

Commitment-phobic

I’m disappointed, but not surprised. I’m sad, hurt, a little angry, but not surprised. Not really. I should have known it was coming.

When six months ago he conspiratorially suggested to me, “Maybe you’ll head judge the next one for me” I believed him. So getting the phone call from the out of region head judge asking if he could crash at my house came as a bit of a shock to me. The head judge he selected is better than me. He’ll do an awesome job. He’s my friend. I’m happy that he’ll be in town. The head judge even said that it felt weird to ‘apply against a friend.’ Wow. I’m honored that he calls me friend. We spent some time chatting about the event and I’m still excited to work it as a floor judge. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, . . . not really.

When I applied to the out of region event, ate the massive travel costs associated with mis-booking my flights, drove through the night, and showed up to work on time despite the difficulties, telling myself, ‘I am a professional.’ I arrived only to be asked to work an extended shift. I worked my buns off that weekend and loved every minute of it. While speaking to the judge manager he commented on his surprise that I applied. I replied, “You asked me to.” He didn’t remember. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, . . . not really.

When he told me last year that next year he hopes to ‘give the whole thing to [me],’ I got excited. The plans percolating in my mind quickly cooled when someone else ran the show and the staff didn’t include me. I went as a player, and had a great time. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, . . . not really.

When I asked him two years ago to write me an L3 Rec, he told me that those take time and a lot of work, but that he would put me on his list. I eagerly agreed. I’ve worked his events, talked with him about everything, trusted his advice, and taken risks believing him to be in my corner. He’s implied numerous times that the end goal is my L3. So when I told him this month that I was planning to formally request the Rec around the end of the year, it stung when he said he would prefer not to write it. His reasons made sense and I believe his choice to be legitimately in my best interests. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, . . . not really.

When he told me he planned to pass RC to me, I felt a surge of adrenaline I can’t explain. An odd feeling of legitimacy, like someone saying that the work I’m doing has value and truly matters. I never aspired to be an RC, but it does seem to be a good fit. From people I barely know to mentors with whom I work closely I get asked about it. I have always answered that I believe our current RC is doing a fine job and that I trust him completely. So only a month after that revelation when he stated that he’s decided to consider another path of succession for RC, it felt like a dagger to my soul. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, . . . not really.

Despite each disappointment, I’ve kept working hard, kept pushing, kept grinding, and ignored the hurt, the loss, and the sadness. Tuned out the doubters, the gatekeepers, and the ones who would use me for their own gain. Instead I kept believing that I could work harder, do more, and be better. Kept believing in the next opportunity. Maybe naive, but I still believe.

You see, at this point in my judge career I know how it goes:

Something inside you breaks.

It's just not worth it anymore. No matter what you do, you just can't get a foothold in this community. Most of your successes are met with scrutiny and doubt. You've been judging Magic for two years and still regularly get asked if you are a new judge. You complete your tasks just fine on your own but the men at the event insist on giving you unsolicited tips – assuming that you need them. An uncomfortable amount of other judges still react awkwardly to working with you. When you started working sanctioned events, you rationalized it all away by saying, “It's just because I'm new.” But you're not new anymore. And the same shit keeps happening no matter how much you try to blend in and be accepted as a real judge.

You still love judging Magic. But after all this time, the small interactions have taken their toll and you finally conclude, “Maybe judging Magic tournaments isn't for me.”

I’m not there yet, but I know that someday I will be.

Impact

As she walked up to me I vaguely recognized her, but couldn't place her exactly. She said, "I just want to thank you for helping me find a team at that GP." Ahh, my memory jogged, she was the player whose teammates had missed their flight and she almost didn't get to play in a team GP. There had been another player who was there without a team as well, we'll call him Rick (not his real name). Rick had asked me all day about finding a team, but as the registration lead there was really not much I could do. When she showed up that afternoon, I had introduced the two of them. They had been able to find a third and compete in the event. Later that weekend she had dropped by registration to thank me and tell me that they had almost made day 2. I felt a sense of satisfaction at being able to unite two players and turn their disappointment into a fun weekend.

Now, almost a year later, halfway across the country this woman had sought me out again. She continued, "That weekend really changed my life. I appreciate your help." As a Magic judge I'm always excited to help players out and make sure they have great experiences, but this praise seemed over the top. Then Rick walked up and thanked me as well. As they walked away hand in hand, she smiled over her shoulder and said, "We've been dating for six months."

Recognition

I received my first ever recognition at a CFBE Grand Prix this weekend. It was such a humbling and exciting experience. But in order to truly understand the weight of what this recognition means to me, let's flash back a bit before I explain the recognition.

In June of 2017 at the judge conference at Grand Prix Las Vegas, I participated in an investigations workshop. At the time I had never done an actual investigation and excitement churned within me. I entered into it feeling confident and eager to show off my skills. Boy was I wrong! My scenario turned out to be a deck check where I found issues with both decks and had to speak with both players. Now, I am notoriously bad at deck checks so after laboriously checking 2 decks, I was mentally exhausted, stressed from being put on the spot, and confused because I had no idea what to do next. I picked a player and started asking questions. After spending far too long on a roundabout mess of queries and responses I still had no idea what to do, so I moved on to the other player to repeat this nonsense. I reached incorrect conclusions in both cases and wasted a ton of time. Afterwards one of the actors from the scenario, an L3 I had never met before, said to me, "You were pretty terrible." He was right; and the worst part was that I had no idea how to get better.

In September I worked Grand Prix Washington DC. My team lead, Khan Le Thien, and I chatted about investigations and he offered to send me some materials he uses to help judges improve their investigation skills. He suggested practicing on some test cases and looking for the critical information needed to make a decision. That conversation changed the way I approached investigations. I stopped trying to simply gather information in a vague generic sense. I started focusing on the critical pieces to make a decision. First I had to gather enough information to understand the situation. Khanh suggested describing the scenario in as few words as possible, which taught me to try and examine a situation and boil it down to its critical elements. Then I had to ask myself what comprise the important decision points (such as if a player is cheating or if I want to perform a backup), and what information I needed to make those decision. Next, I attempted to elicit the information from the players. Sometimes looking at a lifepad or asking a spectator helped, but usually I had to create lines of questioning that would yield the information necessary. Learning to investigate efficiently and not ask unnecessary questions came next. Finally, I had to get comfortable making and delivering a decision.

Using Khan's system, I studied and theorycrafted a lot. In practice, I investigated a few minor incidents, but nothing ever really felt like a 'real' investigation. I also attended a couple more investigations workshops where I got the scenarios impressively wrong. While I had a lot of new ideas, they just didn't seem to ‘click’ for me during an actual investigation. Something, I can’t even say what, still eluded me.

In March of this year, while Head Judging a PPTQ, I was faced with a situation in which I believed that a player lied to me. An odd thing happened, as I listened to my floor judge relay his explanation of the scenario, my brain laid out a path to follow. A 'checklist' of things to find out that pointed to clear conclusions. I spoke with the player, opponent, and spectators and reached a decision. While it wasn't my first disqualification, it was the first time that I as a HJ had to pull the trigger myself on a cheating disqualification.

I want to be very clear here. Disqualifications should never be taken lightly. They never leave you. While judges sometimes try to make light of them, I believe it's just to offset their gravity. I strongly believe that I made the right call. But it still weighs on me, and I have the player's name written in my judge notebook because I will always remember the responsibility that comes with judging and will never take it lightly.

So this weekend at Grand Prix Dallas-Fort Worth I took a call on Saturday in the main event regarding communication and a life total discrepancy. After speaking with both players, I reached out to Joe Klopchic to confirm a ruling. I expressed a concern to him and he suggested a line of questioning for me to investigate. He sat at the table and I took the player a few steps away to chat. After I delivered my ruling, HJ Carlos Ho handled the appeal. This complicated call actually led us to confirm with another burgundy and resulted an a 15 minute time extension (which luckily went unused). After the call ended, Carlos and I discussed my prior concern and my investigation. He seemed surprised that I had considered that angle, but appreciated my thoroughness.

Sunday evening, after working 3 days on the floor of the GP, I attended an investigations workshop hosted by the Investigations Workshop Project. This project sets up scenarios for judges to practice investigations and provides coaching and feedback allowing the investigating judge to get in some realistic practice as well as receive feedback from their peers. (As a sidenote, I appreciate these folks being willing to stay late on the last day of a long weekend to help judges get better.) Having done one of theirs previously, the opportunity came as a surprise and makes me even more appreciative.

What happened next can only be described as unbelievable. I observed the first two scenarios, and both times the correct line of questioning just popped into my head. Like Magic! I so clearly saw what to ask and why to ask it. I learned some neat tricks watching the other participants and loved seeing the reveals of what actually happened in each scenario. But for me, I just could not believe that it seemed so natural (even easy!).

Then came my turn . . . . That terror feeling started to creep into the pit of my stomach as I awaited the call. When it came I faced a not particularly helpful 'player' with a story that didn't seem quite right. I questioned him and his opponent and again the path just revealed itself in front of me. I fell into a comfortable zone in 'judge mode' as I asked my questions. While I didn't feel 100% sure, I make a choice and delivered a ruling, hoping that it was the right one. During the reveal, I realized that I had exactly nailed it! While I had lingered a bit too long and asked some unnecessary questions, I did in fact get it right! The folks running the situation later told me that this one presents more difficulty than most and that most people who have done it don't reach the intended resolution.

I floated out of the room on cloud nine. After several embarrassingly bad investigations workshops, I finally got one right!! But more importantly, I had seen the situations for all three on a deeper level and hadn't just gotten a correct answer but had understood the whole context and implications. I wasn't just taking a shot in the dark based on a pile of facts. I was soliciting details and curating a theory to offer an explanation on which I could base a critical decision.

Ironically, I also received an e-mail from the Player Investigation Committee affirming the disqualification from March. While the message itself wasn't a big deal, the timing (literally during the workshop) seemed fitting.

As I entered the judge party, I noted the actor who had previously called me terrible at investigating. How perfect that he should be present on the day that my investigation skills finally manifested as slightly more functional than before.

So back to the CFBE recognitions . . . . Head Judge Carlos Ho chose to recognize me for the investigation on Saturday. As I stood up to accept my award, I saw the actor grinning wildly and insisting that he had nothing to do with the recognition. I saw the folks from the workshop smiling and nodding. I saw my friends and coworkers applauding. I saw a mentor's face filled with pride. I felt Carlos embrace me. There in that moment, in that room, I knew that I had taken a tiny step forward as a judge. A hard fought step that I could never have taken without the support of the friends and family in my judge community.

Thank you to each and every person who has joined me on this journey. This recognition is for you, a little bit of return on the investment that you have made in me.

Competence

I had a strange feeling today. A feeling that’s new to me at the end of a long weekend on a big event. I felt competent. Not ‘I barely survived another weekend.’ Not ‘At least no one noticed how many calls I punted.’ Not ‘Thank goodness for my team lead who saved my rear on that call.’ I articulated it at the judge party by saying, “Wow, I don’t think I punted a call all weekend.”

Feeling competent encompasses a lot more than getting calls right and not making mistakes, but I’ll get to that in a minute. First, I’d like to take a moment to celebrate my correctness. Rules have presented a challenge for me. I’ve struggled to understand the concepts that make the game work and grappled with the complex terminology used to convey precise details about each situation. Over the last few months I’ve put a lot of extra effort into this area and with the assistance of mentor Nate Hurley, I’m finally starting to see results.

It came on subtly at first. When I started out as a brand new judge, I’d answer a judge call hoping for a bathroom time extension request or Oracle text of a card whose name I could spell. Trepidation filled me each time a player raised their hand. Slowly, over the months and years, I’ve felt a change. I’d take a call, and the answer would slide unbidden into my thoughts. I didn’t trust myself, and would rush to confer with a colleague only to be surprised that my inkling was correct. Over the past few months that feeling has evolved. Now a player’s call triggers excitement and an opportunity to provide assistance. I listen to the situation with a deeper understanding of which factors matter and know what questions to ask. The answer flows from my brain like a natural phenomenon. I know what I can handle and when to ask for help. I welcome chances to learn along with the players when situations get complicated or interesting.

I feel it in my mannerisms at the table. I go through a standard greeting setting the tone for the call while taking a look at the board state. I understand the player’s need and ask the opponent’s input if relevant. I consider if there is an infraction and assess the appropriate penalty, remembering to consider upgrades and downgrades. I apply fixes after a clear explanation to the players. I don’t forget to note time extensions and check for understanding before moving on. (Thanks Mikhail Chernov for helping me understand and master my steps to taking a judge call.)

What felt remarkable to me this weekend was the fact that each call felt routine. I knew my steps and executed them confidently. While doing so I was able to focus on the heart of the call and clearly understand the issue or problem facing the players. I’ve been working on my technique for a while, but marrying it with comfort with the rules as well felt new. It freed my mind to consider cheating more carefully, to seek better questions to ask, and to stay alert for potential pitfalls along the way.

I approached each call with the skills and the knowledge to handle it, and that gave me the confidence to enjoy the work more than ever before. That does not mean that I didn’t confer with my colleagues! In fact, I found myself doing so quite often, but with a different tone than before. I was no longer seeking rescue, but confirmation. I was suggesting the fix and saying, "Does that sound right?" I was discussing corners of policy rather than struggling to follow the discussion.

In an interesting twist, many times I was consulted by other judges. Sometimes a quick drive by ‘this works this way, right?’ and sometimes a more complex request to join them at the table. Being seen by my colleagues as a person they can turn to for help is one of the highest honors I have ever received as a judge.

Outwardly I appeared the same, but inside, I could feel the difference. I could feel the competence.

Advice

This recently appeared on the Judge of the Week blog in an article featuring exemplar recipients, but I'm sharing it here as a part of my personal journey as well. 

What are some of the best pieces of judging advice you have been given?

When I became a new judge, lots of people offered suggestions and ideas. The best of those tidbits came from my judge mentor Josh McCurley who recommended, "Whatever shoes you wear every day, buy them in black and make them your judge shoes." Well, I have a pair of Clarks that are blue and grey and super comfortable. I wear them with jeans for everyday things like walking, taking my kids to various parks and activities, and pretty much any other time that I need to wear shoes. So I called the Clarks store and was excited to find out that they came in solid black and they had a pair in my size in stock. I picked them up as I was headed out of town for GP Albuquerque and my first day as a certified judge. I have worn those shoes literally every single day that I have judged. And Josh was right, they are super comfortable on my feet, and I am super comfortable in them.

However, Josh's advice extends beyond just shoes. Whoever you are every day, be that person when you're wearing judge blacks. I'm a homemaker. I spend my days managing 5 preschoolers - juggling laundry, bills, PTA meetings, and dance classes while trying to cook dinner and find a child's missing shoe. I'm a certified educator with a background in retail and I've done social media and marketing for a nonprofit. As a judge, that means I'm good at management and logistics with an eye for customer service. Unlike many judges I'm not a programmer or an accountant, and learning the detailed intricacies of the rules of Magic poses more difficulty for me. The important thing to me is understanding who I am and my own personal strengths and weaknesses, both as a judge and as a person. If knowledge is power, then knowing yourself gives you the power to leverage your unique talents into being the most effective judge.