Charlotte Convention Center
The Charlotte Convention Center bore a welcome sign for the 2020/2024 General Conference. (Photo Courtesy of Jesi Lipp)
It’s been over a week since General Conference, so I guess I should make that final wrap-up post I said I was going to make. This wrap-up post comes in four parts: People, Monitoring, Parliamentary Procedure, and Other Things. For my science fiction convention friends, especially the socially-justice minded ones, I really recommend reading the Monitoring section. For my Business Meeting friends, please note that I’m probably not interested in turning the comments on this post into a “hash out how to fix the WSFS BM post” convo.
FRIENDS
The best part of General Conference is doing the work of the church. The second best part, and the part that makes the best part manageable when it isn’t quite as awesome as this year, is the people. Friends who I met at GC, friends who I met in person for the first time after only being boxes on a Zoom screen for weeks or months or years, friends who I’ve known forever - I cannot possibly begin to list all the amazing people that I got to meet and connect and spend time with. I am going to do the thing I hate and call out a few specific names. If you’re not on this list, it doesn’t mean I love you any less, it just means that I do have to go back to work in a week and cannot spend the entire time I have off just typing people’s names.
Stephanie Ahlschwede and Lisa Maupin and Zach Anderson, who I had lovely dinners with multiple times including on a night when I really really needed to be with my people. The absolute best part of becoming the Great Plains Conference is the number of wonderful Nebraskans (including Scott Brewer, of course!) who I now get to count among my friends. And Steph especially - I’ve said before that the greatest joy of being on the delegation has been getting to know you and now count you as one of my closest friends. And the rest of the Great Plains delegation, especially my awesome roomie Cheryl Jefferson Bell (we barely saw each other because with the *early* agenda meetings she had to be at, she was asleep by the time I got in most nights), David Livingston - it’s hard to believe that when we were elected he was still my pastor!, and Mark Holland - I got a lot of play about of the “my mom was Mark’s youth director” bit.
The ENTIRE Queer Delegate Caucus, with whom I got to share so many beautiful moments, more than I think any of us imagined. Helen Ryde, for their leadership (the Steering Committee may have officially been ten equals, but Helen was the one driving the bus and making sure we kept our shit together); the entire Steering Committee, who I have had the joy of becoming friends with over the past year and half, and especially Effie McAvoy who I just adore and is the best and most fiercest defender of names and pronouns; Austin Adkinson and Becca Girrell and Sean Delmore (and Sully!), all of whom I got to spend many evenings hanging out with (later than was probably advisable); the amazing, phenomenal, badass Shandon Klein, my SCJ friend and sister; and also Adam Philley, the other Original SCJ QDC member who I wish I had gotten to see more, but I got to hug during the celebration that mattered most.
All the various General Secretaries and agency staff that I got to meet (or already knew) as part of serving on Independent Commissions, especially the folks who sent me marked up copies and emails of amendments to make my job as secretary easier. Tara Davis Barnes and Jeremy Smith whose table I joined several times at Public House. The staff of Public House! Eric Swanson and the rest of the Air Table Warriors, aka Team Spreadsheets. The incomparable Molly Vetter and the other Removal Wranglers. The other half of the parliamentarian dream team, Ian Carlos Urriola And Carter Ellis, who I think I only talked about Hub Argentine business with maybe twice the entire two weeks, which considering I’m the Board treasurer, is a huge accomplishment for both of us.
MONITORING
I want to name the amazing work done by the GCORR and GCSRW monitors. These volunteers and staff from the General Commission on Religion and Race and the General Commission on the Status and Role of Women observe the proceedings of the body each day, both in plenary sessions and legislative committees. They track who is in leadership, who is speaking from the stage and who is speaking from the floor, what language is being used, what voices are being heard and not being heard. They then prepare reports that are in the daily publications as well as one of the first reports given each day. This work is not just done at General Conference - monitors observe the Jurisdictional Conferences, as well as Annual Conferences (not every year, I think? I think it’s a rotating cycle).
The work that the monitors do is so vital. They call out when certain voices are dominating the conversation. For example, in the plenary sessions, the people moving to call the question and end debate were almost always white, and additionally mostly men (is that because they made up a disproportionate share of those wanting to end debate, or because they were the option picked from the speaker pool? We don’t know, either could be true). In committee work, our monitors observed cultural differences between the American/British and African delegates, especially in terms of cultural perception of the importance of time, and their reports enabled our group to do better work. Their observations went both ways - the Americans became conscious of not using phrases like “out of respect for time” or “due to what time it is” that had the unintended effect of shutting down debate, and African delegates understood the importance of returning from breaks in a more timely manner so that we could begin our work again.
The monitors may not have the power to force us to take action upon what they are seeing, but the act of naming is powerful in and of itself. During our legislative committee work, the only reason I was able to deal with the amount of misgendering I was getting is because our monitors daily checked in with me and named that, and asked how I wanted it handled in their report that they gave to the committee. I ended up asking them to not make a thing about it in every report - it was clear that we were dealing with folks who are apologetic when it’s pointed out to them, but that doesn’t translate into them actually getting it correct consistently moving forward, and so I also wasn’t putting effort into correcting it each time it happened. As I said to the monitors at the time “I’m going to be exhausted either way, it’s just choosing which kind of exhausted I am.”
The ministry of monitoring is one that I think is hard to understand the importance of until you see it first hand. And while I’ve been present at conferences with monitoring before, General Conference takes it to a whole other level, and I cannot stress enough how vital it is. I heard through the grapevine that as the days progressed and it became clear the time pressure we were under, the General Secretaries for GCORR and GCSRW were being encouraged to make their reports as brief as possible (and they were already only scheduled for five minutes!). And that’s a shame, because those were probably the most important reports being given each day.
Because of the commitment to Holy Conferencing that we have as Christians and Wesleyans, and because the monitoring is being done by our general agencies, this service and their reports bear weight and are taken seriously. I know that trying to implement something similar at science fiction conventions would be difficult (ignoring the cost in people points, which would make it untenable to begin with) because reports would largely be viewed as just statistics, rather than deliberate calls to action. But I do also wonder what it would look like to have that sort of intentional observation and reporting in every panel room and event (yes, including the Business Meeting), and how it might drive us to do better.
PARLIAMENTARY PROCEDURE
Ok, first of all. Y’all. You cannot be going to the microphone and trying to accomplish parliamentary maneuvers without talking to anyone else first. And by “you,” I mean everyone, but I also mean “straight white dudes” because they were the instigator of 100% of the worst of the parliamentary situations we found ourselves in. Even if – *especially* if – you’re sure you know what you’re doing! I know what I’m doing, and every single time you saw me at the mic? It was after running it by several people first, to confirm that it was necessary and would be helpful. And if I’m performing some sort of complicated maneuver, I’m running the actual procedure past folks like Ian as well to make sure I’m doing it correctly. We have the experts among us. Even if you think you are one of those experts, please loop others in on your plan so that it has more eyes than just yours on it. None of us are perfect; we are all improved by working in consultation with others.
Also, y’all, it is unfair what we do to bishops by asking them to preside at General Conference. And at the other conferences. Most of the parliamentary snarls we found ourselves in could have been eased or prevented by having an expert presiding officer (yes, we had a totally awesome Professional Registered Parliamentarian, but that is not the same thing as having that kind of person actually presiding). But we don’t have enough bishops who are top-level presiding officers, so bishops who just aren’t equipped for the level of nonsense we can get ourselves into are also among those presiding. And I know it makes them nervous - it’s not fair to them and it’s not fair to the body.
And this is not, let’s be clear, an argument to do away with RONR and parliamentary procedure. Because when Bard or Palmer or Easterling or Harvey were presiding, we did just fine, *even when* things got sticky. I know people look at the parliamentary slog that can happen with a group like this and see it as a condemnation of the system. But if you think that a different ruleset would solve that problem, I would be very curious to know how - you would still be dealing with trying to shepherd a body where the vast majority do not know the rules and most of the presiders aren’t expert level. And if you think that getting rid of the rules all together is the solution, that’s just bonkers.
General Conference, I think, is actually a very good example of why we need parliamentary procedure. Nearly every time we got in conundrum, it was because we *weren’t* following the rules. And yes, there were slogs. The item on term limits for bishops got deep in the weeds. But not because of the procedure, because of the content. Because it’s an issue that matters, and is complex, and that people have feelings about. The rules are what made that discussion manageable at all!
(But also, yes, recognizing a speaker in the pool who wants to call the question should function as calling the question, it’s absurd to say “I recognize [name] for a motion to end debate” and then have to wait for them to get the microphone and list their name and details and then actually call the question. Let’s improve that process for next time.)
OTHER THINGS
Some things can be managed by the team planning an event, like the schedule and the pre-event communications with attendees and whether the posterboards with table numbers are going to be helpful or a hassle. Some things are not, like how good the convention center wifi is and whether the convention center was honest with the event planners about how not-good it is.
The translators and interpreters who work General Conference, who are pretty much all volunteers, deserve so much credit and kudos. And we have *got* to do a better job of helping them do their work. Not just speaking slowly and trying to avoid idioms, but also things like, if we haven’t had time to get text for an amendment translated, at least giving the interpreters the English text to make it easier to interpret. Also, if your’e going to have assigned seats for every delegation, why on earth would you only distribute the English publications at the tables? And if you’re going to claim that we are committed to making sure things are translated and interpreted, then *do that.* Don’t assume that no non-English-speaking committee officers are going to be elected, and so only have English copies of the 20-page instructions. Don’t only have English lyrics and liturgies on the screen. We have to do better.
Final thoughts: I think I picked a good General Conference to be my first one. I’m glad I got to be a delegate to a General Conference that really felt like the church being the church, instead of one marked by harm and toxicity. We have done good work, and come so far, and also we are no where near where we need to be and still have much to do. I look forward to continuing to do that work with y’all.
Jesi Lipp (they/them) was a delegate to the 2020/2024 General Conference from the Great Plains Annual Conference, where they serve as parliamentarian. This post is republished with permission from their Facebook page. Pleae contact the author via Facebook for permission to republish this content elsewhere.