The year was 2017.

Along with my fellow program co-lead, I had been planning a big in-person event where the magic of our certification program would happen: social learning coming together with hands-on application.

It would take place in London, right in the middle of winter.

We had spent months planning: building out the agenda and content, recruiting (overpriced) guest speakers, designing interactive workshops, and getting stakeholder buy-in.

I wasn’t involved in picking the venue, which was some sort of rustic warehouse. So when I walked in the day before to oversee setup, I had a big sinking feeling in my stomach.

It’s. so. cold.

Taking a peek at the freezing cold empty space the day before

The team onsite assured us that the problem would be fixed tomorrow when heating would be turned on. Phew, crisis averted.

So day 1 of the event starts. And, as you may have guessed, the crisis has not been averted.

A crowd of very cold people.

Because EVERYONE was freezing in the space. And they didn’t hesitate it to (rightfully!) repeat to us throughout the day.

It felt like our months of prep work had gone down the drain for one small detail that was overlooked. While a colleague of ours had visited the space earlier in the fall, the temperatures weren’t as low and nothing seemed off.

A lovely sign with real-time user feedback!

But by the end of the two-day event, the cold had taken over the experience and dampened people’s moods. It was all everyone would talk about — not the content, the workshops, the learnings, nor the connections made in the space…

What can you draw from this?

You might be tempted to shrug this off as a rookie mistake in event planning. But things like this actually happen all the time in learning and community experiences.

We’re often told that details don’t matter: “Focus on the big picture.” But in fact, some details do matter. Even the smallest things can completely change how people feel and live an experience.

And, sometimes, it has nothing to do with your content or activities.

In our case, it was an unexpected special guest: the cold. In your case, it might the subtle ways you welcome people into and out of the space. Or the isolation a deaf person or non-native English speakers feels when there are no closed captions or real-time transcripts.

So, next time you’re designing a program, course, or community gathering, ask yourself: what small detail could derail the whole experience? And who may be disproportionately affected?

With care,

Sandra Camacho
aka Sandra By Design (She/Her)

Values-Led Learning Designer, Community Strategist, and Design Educator

Interested in working together? Check out my services or book a discovery call.