June 17th, 5:20 a.m. My alarm blares marimba and I groggily grasp for the phone to silence the grating percussive beat. A chaotic clicking of every button on the iPhone, an accidental screenshot of the homescreen, and all is quiet once again. Sunlight peeks through as I drift back to sleep. Then it hits me. I shoot up in bed.
GreenFin24!
I stumble to the kitchen, grateful for the leftover coffee I’d thrown in the fridge the night before. Mason jar of watery black goodness in hand, I head back to my room and get ready for the day. The event’s dress code is “business professional,” a phrase that my work-from-home-writerly ass hasn’t encountered since that brief stint in business school sophomore year of college.
Today I am not a writer, but rather a part-time employee at the 2024 GreenFin conference, “The world’s premier sustainable investing and finance event.” Held at NYC’s Javits Center, it promises fruitful connections in finance and sustainability, insight on ESG investing, and access to products that accelerate a corporation’s climate strategy. Reader, I know what you’re thinking. What a perfect event for Emily! This makes complete sense.
It, of course, does not. That’s what makes it fun.
Backtracking a bit… list item #17. “Get a Part-Time Job at a Convention Center,” was an exciting premise. I consistently lose money doing 129 Ways, so an activity that could increase my bank account was enticing. Plus, convention centers offer endless opportunities for unique interactions. I would know.
During the summer of 2019, I spent a lot of time working in convention centers. Unemployed that June, I took a job as a “host” at the E3 Gaming Expo at the Los Angeles Convention Center, holding a giant cardboard arrow under the relentless California sun until I was medically evacuated for heat stroke. A few weeks later, I was back, this time blessedly indoors as a stand-in for Snapchat execs during their event’s tech rehearsal, cosplaying as founder Evan Spiegel. By July, I was gainfully employed as a Hollywood assistant, and once again found myself at a convention center for San Diego ComicCon. Not even a month into my dream job, the gig was a joyful weekend of costumes and a real taste of success.
A lot has changed since that fateful summer: E3 shut down in 2023, Snapchat now has a weird AI chatbot, and I no longer have that dream job. There’s been a pandemic, the planet’s gotten way too hot, I moved cities, JLo and Ben finally got married. I felt as if it had been a lifetime since I’d been in a convention center (in actuality, it was five years).
So stepping back into a vast hall of booths, banners, and businesspeople was a welcome, if not nostalgic, prospect. Plus, it’s rare that an item can actually be taken at face value. #17. “Get a Part-Time Job at a Convention Center” didn’t need updating or analysis. The reasoning was as straightforward now as it was in 1958: you meet people where you work, and conventions expose you to endless attendees.
The first step was identifying upcoming conferences in New York City. I started at the Javits Center website. The Javits Center, located at 655 W 34th St, is NYC’s major convention facility and the busiest in the United States. Like much of New York City’s architectural history, the center is marred by controversy, including a 1995 allegation that it was operated under Mafia control (@Tony Soprano). These days, however, Javits is more known as “The place I got my covid vaccine!,” which is what more than five New Yorkers exclaimed when I said I was going. (The location set the national record for most vaccinations in a single day at 14,000).
For June, my options were a fancy food conference, a wine convention, or the green finance event. Specialty Food Association didn’t respond to my email, Vinexposium didn’t match my availability, but GreenFin24 was promising.
GreenFin24 wasn’t hiring part-time staffers; they were offering volunteer positions. Applicants were asked to submit a brief essay on their ambitions and personal/professional information, with preference given to students. Luckily, a crisis of faith in early May led me to briefly quit writing in pursuit of a more pragmatic path: grad school. Mere weeks before applying to GreenFin, I had bought a GRE book, met with admissions at several major schools, and registered as a non-matriculated student in Graduate level statistics at SUNY Stony Brook. I was ready to toss everything out the window and get a Masters in Policy Administration. (For the record, this remains a possibility. Working in and writing about advocacy is a dream).
But for now, all that matters is this spiral meant I was not lying when I said I was a student at SUNY Stony Brook. I sent in the application and forgot about it. And then in early June…
Hilariously, volunteering at GreenFin would cost $50, but it seemed worth it. I paid the fee and requested time off from work. Soon, the day arrived, which brings me back to where I left off.
6:15 a.m. I am out the door, dressed in head-to-toe Zara. The irony of wearing fast-fashion to a sustainability conference is not lost on me. I pop into the bagel shop next to my apartment and order breakfast and a large coffee. With ten minutes to spare, I sit by the window, sipping my drink and eating my bagel, marveling at the rare quiet of the city waking up.
I jot down a list of people who may also be awake this early:
Doctors
Ex: my friend Lexi
Subway conductors
Those workout people who do more in a morning than most of us do a year
Ex: my friend Erin
The not-yet-gone-to-bed intern whose “night was like a movie”
Everyone inside of Bagel Point
I stop there, realizing the list is silly because it’s New York and people have things to do. Everyone who’s anyone is awake right now. I finish my bagel and head to the train.
7:00 a.m. I arrive at the Javits Center, joining a group of fellow volunteers, all in suits and clearly accustomed to such attire. I gulp, hoping no one can tell I'm an imposter. I am quickly greeted by an Aussie who we’ll call Poppy. Perkier than Elle Woods after three coffees, she seamlessly brings together a group of strangers, creating what would become our morning posse. There was Poppy, our de facto leader on the hunt for a new job, her friend Ella, an HR consultant transitioning to corporate strategy, and Lauren, a college grad so fresh you could still see the hope in her eyes.
Orientation was quick and painless, and then it was time to collect our badges, complete with our names and jobs. For me, that was… Student. Whoops. I contemplate creating an alter ego as a SUNY Stony Brook student. But at this point, the idea of grad school seemed far less enticing than it had a month ago, especially after realizing it might have just been a reaction to a break-up and not worth the massive debt and life disruption.
Luckily I was able to change my title to the more accurate, “Podcast Producer, Non-Profit.” (Recyclable) lanyard around my neck, I got to work.
8:00 a.m. to 9:00 a.m. My new crew and I man the check-in desk, greeting conference attendees as they grabbed their badges. In between interactions, we sipped coffee and got to know each other. Poppy, a conference veteran, had been working the sustainability convention circuit for months. Ambitious and graceful, she was there to make connections and maneuver into her desired job. Poppy was a power player in a volunteer’s vest.
9:15 a.m. The volunteer organizer informed us we’d be helping at the workshops instead of the check-in desk. (Promotion alert!). Ella and I were assigned to a three-hour training on “transition finance.” As we got to know each other, I wondered when I’d need to reveal that I wasn't actually a member of the Green Finance community but rather a writer using the experience for content.
I started to tell her but was interrupted by attendees needing their badges scanned. We focused on our job for the next ten minutes, then stood in the back as the session began.
The conference room’s drab fluorescent lighting and rapt audience gave me a pang of collegiate nostalgia. It was a joy to be in a room of eager learners, even though the presentation on transition finance was absolute gibberish to me. So, also kind of like college. I took notes.
Climate conference notes
Double materiality – a concept in sustainability reporting that considers both the impact a company has on the environment and society, and how those factors affect the company's financial performance
CSRD – The European Union's Corporate Sustainability Reporting Directive
ISSB standards – International Sustainability Standards Board provides an opportunity for companies' disclosures to be globally consistent and comparable across capital markets.
Cross jurisdictional quagmire (???)
Cool to be in a room of experts even if I don’t understand any of this
CTAP – climate transition action plan
It was interesting, but a lot. Just as I felt myself zoning out, the first session stopped. The leader announced it was time for the interactive hour, and volunteers should join. Oh, shit.
Our task was to create a climate transition plan (CTAP) for an energy company using the model we had just studied. My imposter syndrome was at threat level midnight as I sank into my seat at a nearby table, Ella by my side. We all introduced ourselves. It went something like this.
“I’m Carl and I work at Goldman Sachs.”
“I’m Megan with the Energy Department.”
“I’m Lee from Citi.”
“I’m Emily and don’t worry about it.”
Record scratch. Everyone turned to me.
“What?” Carl questioned. “What do you do?”
“It doesn’t matter. I would say don’t worry about it. I do a lot of things that are hard to explain.”
The perplexed group moved on, and I wiped my sweaty palms on my plaid pants. They couldn’t know I was a fraud! I needed them to believe I belonged.
As we got into the activity, I started to believe it too. Eventually, that is. For the first twenty minutes, I felt like Liz Lemon from that episode of 30 Rock where she goes to the GE Six Sigmas conference: out of my element, a weird writer among sharp corporate finance folks. But, like Liz, I managed to contribute actual ideas… and they were low-key good. We discussed the perks and pitfalls of transitioning a grid from coal to clean energy. How would it affect local communities? Who would educate them? What about lost jobs? How to get investor buy-in?
At the end of the hour, we presented our work. There weren’t grades but I feel like we got an A.
I also fessed up to my table, sharing why I was actually here. They looked at me like I had three heads, so I slinked to the back of the room for the final hour of the workshop.
Notes from the final hour
Just transition and environmental justice / human rights risks with climate transitions
Regenerative agriculture and employee livelihoods
Food waste and hunger — related to just transition and thinking about how the transition to clean energy will affect people (human rights)
Every major company needs to have a transition plan to clean energy
Concerns for transition: affordability, environment, community engagement, loss of jobs
The importance of data and metrics in a transition
The morning ended, and I walked out feeling smarter and more confident; the imposter syndrome had faded. It was thrilling to use my brain in a way I rarely do.
I recently went on a date where the guy said women think they're bad at math because they're told so, not because they are. This sentiment was echoed at GreenFin. I assumed I was bad at corporate planning and big-picture thinking because I’ve been told I'm just creative and therefore not apt at business. But why can’t a person be both? Artistic and analytical? Even if I prefer the creative side, it was nice to know my strategic mind works just as well.
12:00 p.m. Ella and I filled heaping plates of what has to be some of the best food I’ve had in weeks. Like, it could be served for a hefty price at a restaurant quality. However, attendees did pay $4,000 for this event, so maybe the food matched the cost. We headed out to the roof, which boasts an epic view of the Hudson.
Over lunch, Ella and I talked about relationships, career prospects, what we hope for our future, what we love about our present. I admitted feeling like a fish out of water. It was comforting to have a buddy for the day, someone to share the experience with.
12:45 p.m. Stomachs obscenely full, we wobbled over to the expo for the freebies. While chatting with people who asked what I did, I stuck with the vague, "Don't worry about it." They probably thought I was either a spy or just rude, but whatever. I got a free water bottle out of it.
Moving from booth to booth, I was struck by a sense of hope. The expo was brimming with representatives from different companies, all of whom had some version of the same goal: make sustainability mainstream and profitable. I’m not one that is all like rah rah capitalism, but I recognize that it runs our world. It was comforting to meet the folks in finance working to make our earth better instead of simply shareholders richer.
1:00 p.m. - 3:00 p.m. This feeling was further cemented at the two-hour keynote. I recorded it, hoping to hang on to nuggets of wisdom. But this essay is already long, so here are highlights:
Keynote notes
Business motto: “What’s gonna make the company rich, what’s going to make the company poor, all the rest is email” lmao
Political moment is making sustainable investing harder
Volatility of each clean tech movement and the fundamentals are becoming stronger
NY state common retirement fund (sustainable investments and climate solutions)
One of the best performing pension funds in the country
3:00 p.m. I bid adieu to Ella. We’d see each other again on Wednesday, for our second shift.
I never saw Ella again.
By the time Wednesday, June 19th arrived, I had crammed an entire week into just 36 hours. Between wrapping my shift on Monday and gearing up for Wednesday, I juggled a painting class Monday night (for #18: “Learn to Paint”) with my paid gigs: early morning freelance copywriting on Tuesday, feeding a stranger’s cat, my regular 9-5, and SAT tutoring that evening.
Exhaustion set in, and I was nearing burnout. I questioned the wisdom of pushing myself beyond sustainable limits, especially after attending a conference focused on sustainability. While I thoroughly enjoyed my first day and felt I gained valuable insights, I needed a break far more than I needed to return. So thus concluded my time at GreenFin24.
People don't always take the time to consider what it's like to actually work at a convention, or in any of the routine roles in the places we frequent. In the last few years, I've held a variety of part-time jobs: yoga studio receptionist, babysitter, assistant, greeter, production assistant, dog-sitter, tutor, and hostess. I've become adept at turning on the charm and ensuring the guests are blissfully unaware of what happens behind the scenes. They'll never know you hauled 30 sweaty yoga mats up a flight of stairs last night, crying in the steamy studio as you cleaned and hung each one. They'll never consider that you arrived two hours early to set up machines, unload chairs, and ensure the posters were placed and the name tags printed.
And so while exhausted by the hustle – of constantly being on and working less-than-glamorous gigs to scrape by – I’m also grateful for it. It's a privilege to have one job, let alone too many. I’m lucky that people have taken chances on me and that I have been trusted in such unique settings and roles.
It’s shaped my worldview. Someone once said that working in the service industry teaches you there are two kinds of people: those who understand the struggle and those who don't. Being in the trenches at a restaurant, catering to diners who are assholes about their chicken cobb or the creepy line cook who won’t stop asking you to “check a dish out in the kitchen,” gives a certain perspective that you wouldn’t otherwise have. Best of times, worst of times.
These jobs have introduced me to some of the most resilient, badass, hard-working people I’ve ever known. People with big dreams and hearts who are often overlooked. Gritty, tenacious, determined hustlers unafraid to get their hands dirty to achieve what they want.
At GreenFin, I was struck by a sense of comfort in familiar territory: the instant solidarity of the volunteers, the knowledge that we are in this together, on our feet for hours, smiling blankly, making small talk to pass the time. The lunch, the food that was so good it felt illegal, sitting outside on the roof deck talking about ambitions and dreams with a new friend. There was no pretense, just passion.
Of course, my experience is also couched into an immense amount of privilege. To have the time and energy to reflect on this endeavor is a gift, and one that not everyone has. Taking time off to volunteer at a sustainability convention was only possible because I had jobs – albeit, too many – which provided the flexibility and autonomy to do so. Even writing requires a certain socioeconomic advantage. It’s time-consuming, emotionally draining, and the payoff is rare.
I hope to get to the day when I can work one job instead of five, when writing is less of a pipe dream and more of a profitable endeavor. That said, I wouldn’t change anything about the present, and I’m not in a rush for the future to happen. It makes for a full life and a lot of stories.
When push comes to shove, I love everything part-time jobs have given me… except maybe the heatstroke.
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