Right Talk. Wrong Stage.
The immense and avoidable disappointment of giving a TEDx talk
*Note: While I reference other speakers at my TEDx event in this essay, I only speak on behalf of myself. While I am aware of and have processed the disappointment and let down with a few other people in the group, I cannot speak to it being universal for everybody. I also can’t speak to my experience being universal to all TEDx events, which are independently organized.
It’s been difficult not to wonder if I wasted three whole months of my life preparing for “nothing,” since I gave my TEDx talk in LA on Dec 2.
I put nothing in quotes because the experience was not nothing in a literal sense. I say that more in an ROI sense, as my talk may not end up being posted, which, you know, is the entire reason anyone gives a TEDx talk. To get their message on TED’s platform of 40 million subscribers. They know this. We know this. And that is why, as a dear friend of mine put it, “the corporatization of thought” dominates the experience.
If someone were to ask me if I recommend doing it, I would say sure if you’re comfortable conforming to mainstream environments and don’t mind adhering to strict guidelines for giving the talk, from the content to the delivery. I would also make an extra caveat to anyone holding an identity that tends to require a performed level of palatability or code-switching in corporate or academic spaces.
THINGS I WISH SOMEONE WOULD HAVE TOLD ME BEFOREHAND
Get a thorough rundown of what the rehearsal day entails, who the speaker coach is, and how they run the day.
Make sure anything you’ve communicated with the organizer about your talk prior to this day is also communicated with the speaker coach before you get going. (Extra emphasis for neurodivergent people or anyone who has trouble memorizing and will need to have an aid on stage with you like notecards.)
I also recommend looking up the speaker coach and feeling them out. I can’t promise this will eliminate the possibility of any surprising or derailing clashes of values or personalities the day or two before you go on stage. Still, it will help reduce the likelihood if you’re aware beforehand.
Additional note to the points above: I’ve received some messages since posting this essay about the range of experiences people have with organizers and speaker coaches. There are more variables in how things are executed than I am able to speak to since I only had one experience. Some teams are more resourced and [are able to be] highly involved in helping speakers develop their talks before the event. If that’s the case, you may interact with your speaker coach before rehearsal day.
If you’re a person for whom standing still does not come naturally, or you tend to “overly” gesticulate when you speak, practice this before rehearsal day so you don’t incur the added pressure a day or two before the event of someone telling you that you can’t talk or move on stage the way you naturally would.
Remember that the organizing team is all volunteers who likely have FT jobs and other responsibilities. Do not assume they will be able to have your back. It’s a lot for just a handful of people to coordinate, and things are likely to get dropped in the process.
Read this TEDx content guidelines document that is meant for the organizers WORD FOR WORD, including every additional thing they link to in it, just in case your organizer or speaking coach isn’t on top of their role or doesn’t, for whatever reason, point out that anything in your talk is likely to get flagged after they read your script beforehand and listen to your talk during rehearsal. Do not just skim it like I did, and do not just rely on this cute little Illustrated Speaker Guide they provide.
I know practically no one reads terms and conditions and the like word for word, but if you’re going to invest the time, energy, attention, and any financial resources in TEDx, it’s worth it. Not being meticulous about reading all the fine print was my biggest personal failing.
It’s also worth mentioning that the “exposure” factor isn’t what it used to be. Many TEDx talks never break 1,000 views these days, and many that do reach into the tens or hundreds of thousands get there because the speakers themselves pay to promote them. This is among the many things I’ve learned about the smoke and mirrors of TEDx events after the fact.
Whether or not my talk ever sees the light of day or YouTube (it’s currently still “under review,” aka in TED purgatory, as I’ve come to affectionately refer to it, and will say more about in a moment), I will always cherish the experience of connecting with many of the speakers and witnessing their talks.
It was a joy to introduce many of my SoCal loved ones to each other at the event and have dinner together after. The real-time feedback on my talk from people in the audience let me know that my Big Idea, that sacredness is medicine we all need, didn’t just land—people were moved. I even got an immediate invite to speak at another TEDx event by an organizer who was in the audience. My response was, “Thank you so much, but I never want to do this again.”
My girl Weeze, Founder of According to Weeze and the Assafa Collective, and I prepared together, giving each other feedback on our talks and practicing weekly the month before the event. This was a really special and meaningful thing in our friendship on so many levels. I loved learning more about one of my dearest friends through her talk, which was about the history and liberation, not just of her indigenous Algerian ancestors but her own family. I also loved meeting her mom, cousin, and best friend, who attended the event to support her. Watch Weeze’s talk here.
It was the gift that keeps on giving to get to finally drop in with Tamela Gordon, whom I’d met in passing at an event in NYC in 2018. Tami is the author of the upcoming book Hood Wellness: Tales of Communal Care from People Who Drowned on Dry Land (June 2024). She lives, breathes, and embodies the ethic of community care more than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s also brilliant, with a razor-sharp socio-cultural and relational analysis. Not to mention, her sense of humor, infused with a Black Latina New Yorker vibe, is medicine for my soul. Watch Tami’s talk here.
I wept tears of indigenous joy and loss that I didn’t know the Taíno part of me—whose language has been long dead, needed to weep when Amelia Butler*, founder of Learn Māori Abroad, an indigenous Māori woman began speaking her language during her talk on rehearsal day and ended it with a Haka. Then she hugged me while I cried some more afterward, which still makes me weep when I think about it. I didn’t know I needed that indigenous connection and I didn’t know my ancestors needed it, too.
Note: People have worked and continue working to revitalize the Taíno language, an initiative that began in 2009, led by cacique Jorge Baracutay Estevez. A dictionary called Hiwatahia: Hekexi Taino Language Dictionary exists today.
I got to be mystified by the stunning Neha Misra*, (one of the most gentle, creative, and magical humans I’ve ever met), Migratory Eco-Artist, Poet, and Climate Justice Advocate who spoke about the power of art.
I wept some more when Tina Strawn, author of Are We Free Yet? The Black Queer Guide To Divorcing America spoke about Blaxit. Watch Tina’s talk here.
I was also moved by Meenadchi’s talk* about communication in friendship, something we all need.
*speakers whose talks I haven’t linked haven’t gone live yet.
Lastly, I got to wear the sparkly number you see in the picture at the top of the page, which was a friggin’ delight ✨.
So again, the overall experience wasn’t nothing. It also wasn’t anywhere close to the promise of what it would be, and not because my talk got flagged. I knew I made some choices that would likely get me flagged. I also made those choices BECAUSE I thought “flagged” just meant it would end up with this note on it that I’d seen on other talks:
NOTE FROM TED: This talk only represents the speaker's personal views and understanding of healing which lacks legitimate scientific support. While some viewers may find this talk helpful as a complementary approach, please do not look to this talk for health advice. We've flagged this talk because it falls outside the content guidelines TED gives TEDx organizers.
No one explained the review process, and it wasn’t in any of the provided guideline materials. No one mentioned that it can take up to six months for some talks to get posted once they are flagged. I found this out from another event’s speaker coach, Eunice Brownlee when I posted a note on Substack about my talk still being “under review” almost three months post-event. (Extra shoutout to Eunice. We’ve had a few follow-up chats since then that have really helped me process a few more lingering details related to the inequities across TEDx events for both speakers and organizers). It was also not communicated that talks could be flat-out rejected and never posted.
As a neurodivergent person who often misses details, I checked with some fellow speakers to make sure it wasn’t just me missing this information once it came to light, and they confirmed they had no idea either.
What we were told is that videos are usually posted within two or three weeks.
The lack of transparency, among other things, has been an ongoing drag and a drain on a handful of us for three months after the event. Considering the preparation began three months before, to invest half a year+ into giving an 11-minute talk—for free, while also having to pay for travel and lodging and take days off from work, the word extractive only begins to describe the experience.
Those of you who know me know it’s not my style to blame others when there is responsibility for me to take, so let me say, it is 100% on me for not doing more diligence beforehand about how TEDx events are actually executed. It honestly never occurred to me that I might have to. I stopped doing things for “exposure” years ago. The TEDx event I spoke at seemed worth the exception. Ya girl misread TF out of that.
WHY IT WAS SO DAMN DISAPPOINTING
I can’t speak for other events, but for this one, everything that made it such a disappointing experience was entirely avoidable. It could have been amazing if the organizer team had the capacity, awareness, or praxis to communicate and run it in a way that matched the liberatory values they presented it under. To give them some compassion, the model is just as extractive for organizers as it is for speakers. As I mentioned above, running these things is a lot for just a handful of people who aren’t getting paid and, in some cases, are coming out of pocket. Unfortunately, no amount of passion or belief in the speakers and their messages guarantees a well-executed and facilitated experience.
Weeze, whose field of expertise is liberation and decolonization work, put it best as we processed together afterward, “They created a perception of liberation without the integrity or accountability of having done the work.”
So, now we find ourselves at the part of the story that has caused me to hold off on writing this post for three months. Processing the deep disappointment of how the event and the rehearsal went was A LOT. Especially the parts no one gave us a heads-up about. Then, about six weeks later, there was more to process after an equally disappointing conversation with the main event organizer about things that were handled poorly leading up to, during, and after the event.
As another speaker put it, “At least the snacks were good.”
While I’m not a person who sweeps things under the rug or doesn’t speak up when shit is not ok, I also don’t need or want to spend any more energy getting into the nitty gritty of every single way the organizer team failed us, specifically as a line up of Black, Brown, and Indigenous speakers, because if I did, the rest of this post would read like either a hit piece or a dissertation on “impact vs. intent.”
I’m not here to do either as neither supports the point of this essay.
What I’ve mentioned above is sufficient for the intention of this essay—to illuminate the potential pitfalls when participating in TEDx events and help anyone avoid the mistakes I made, so if you do participate, you’ll be better informed than I or my colleagues were, and hopefully have a better experience than we did.
It also feels important because aside from how distressing, life-disrupting, and in one speaker’s case—re-traumatizing the experience was for some of us, I have since learned that this is a pretty common occurrence with TEDx events. And it remains common because it’s not really talked about. The glamorized details of giving TEDx talks are the only thing most of us ever really hear about.
My friend, Naomi Hattaway, author of Leaving Well for the Organization: A Navigation Guide for Workplace Transitions, checked in on me after the event. When I told her I was going to need some major recovery time, this is where the conversation went (she’s gray, I’m blue):
I learned many expensive lessons participating in this experience that I will not repeat. Especially about my part in putting myself in rooms that really aren’t meant for me.
Here’s the script of my talk if you’d like to read it. It isn’t exactly what I said on the day of, but it’s pretty close.
I love this Elizabeth! I share your Wild Dream and I hope others will get to see your talk in hope that others will share it, too.
🔥👏🔥