2. Whenever I try to write a con report, I go into stereotypical sullen teenager mode, which I did not do as a teenager. Where'd you go? Out. Who'd you see there? People. What'd you do? I dunno. Talk. About what? Stuff. I don't know why this happens. Possibly because I have some cocooning impulses after a convention. "Okay, enough monkeys now," I think to myself.
3. All of my friends and cordial acquaintances are heroes of the revolution. Some heroes are more revolutionary than others. The vertigo did interfere with my con experience -- for example, I'm pretty sure I would have wandered over to some of the music if I hadn't been trying to calculate all movement in my head -- "and if I go there, will there be someone who knows me and can give me an arm to fetch me back again?" sort of thing. It wasn't that anyone was anything less than willing to give me an arm, or fetch me a chair, or get me a granola bar, or make a spot for me behind their dealer's room table, or or or or. It was that I didn't really want to make anybody reorganize their con around my whims. I was conscious of it a fair bit. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure I got more time with some of the aforementioned heroes of the revolution than I would have if I'd been more wandery, and that was definitely a good thing. Allowed for conversations to develop at their own pace.
4. The panel that was called "Hard SF’s Relationship with Public Education" spent a fair amount of time on public school science and math curricula. I didn't tell even a quarter of my "how awful science and math education are as witnessed by a former physics tutor" stories. I would have been interested in having the time to talk a bit more about hard (or at least hard-ish) SF, but Kelly's teaching stories are well worth listening to in their own right, and I'll bet she's an awesome algebra and chem teacher. I've been asked to talk to kids at Career Day at a local private high school in April, and I'll be interested in seeing if I can tell whether some of the problems that came up are constant or whether things are better there.
5. The panel that was called "Geek, Be Not Ashamed" touched on several good points. My main qualm about it was that there was a teenage girl with extremely closed body language in the back row, and I worried that the panel that would do her good was not the panel the rest of the room was interested in hearing. If you're going through a really awful high school, the things that will help you later in your life are not the things that will help you in high school; polite and slightly reticent dignity gets you absolutely nowhere in a bad high school. (On the other hand, maintaining a polite and slightly reticent dignity with people who dislike you can be its own reward.) But doing the panel for one audience member to the exclusion of the rest is a really bad idea, I think.
I have plenty of ideas about geek social fallacies and geek social strengths, some of which came up on the panel and others did not, but