If you have read the about page of this site and carefully inspected all of the fun facts scattered throughout, you might have noticed that I really like the movie Ratatouille. Depending on the day, I’d call it the best Pixar movie ever made (but I do #EmbraceDebate, so shoot me a note if you think otherwise even though you are objectively wrong). I love the setting and the characters and the storyline, but more than anything, I love the villain.
An imposing figure throughout the film, Anton Ego is finally humanized during the climax of the film as Remy cooks up the film’s name-sake to impress the food critic. The dish takes the critic back to his childhood and his mom’s cooking, he devours the rest, discounts Remy’s vermin ancestry and stands by quality. His final review, a review he has to know will cause him to be stripped of his title and the fame and respect he had accumulated over the years, lauds the phrase that has lived on from the movie “anyone can cook” and what it truly means.
Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.
This monologue, and this phrase specifically, has always struck a chord with me. More often than not, we limit our thinkings of quality and greatness to the traditional giants and successes of whatever field we are in or discussing. Because of bias, preference or who knows what else, we usually need some other kind of experience to break that line of thinking and open up the realm of greatness and quality to anyone from anywhere.
You probably know where this is going.
I recently had such an experience.
I just got back from the Themed Entertainment Association’s (TEA) annual Summit Conference. First, yes there is an official group of people who get together to talk about them parks, water parks, museums, games, experiences, cruise ships or other cool things people dream up. Second, yes it is as fun and cool as it sounds. As I was saying, the Summit is a weekend conference at Disneyland (remember when I said we were fun?) with the major highlight being the Oscars of the TEA, the THEAs, and its little brother of a highlight being the Case Study Day where THEA recipients take turns giving presentations, essentially, on why they won awards.
As a first-time attendee of the conference, I did not know what to really expect out of the Case Study Day, especially considering most of the people lined up to give talks were not associated with the traditional giants of the industry (your Disneys, your Universals, etc.). I would not say I was quite at “if I don’t love it, I don’t swallow” Anton Ego level of apprehension before the first few talks, but I was interested to see how these smaller firms and studios compared to the best (especially given the irony that this whole shin-dig was at Disneyland).
Anyway, like Anton Ego, after one bite I was sold. I sat in a ballroom for ten hours listening to people I have never heard of talk about things I had never seen in places I had never been.
And it was awesome.
Listening to these small studios seemingly “Money-ball” the industry developing creative solutions out of necessity of time, budget or reputation (or lack thereof) was inspiring. They all battled the odds set against them in defense of their new ideas and concepts that could turn the industry on its head. They turned national parks into collaborative, technological experiences. They made giant, rotating water slides. They built a real house of Legos. They turned a motorcycle dealership into an interactive playground. They got rid of lines. They did so much, and in a lot of cases, with really little at the beginning.
As someone who is looking for a job (!), it was inspiring to see the caliber of work being done everywhere and this, subsequently, has pushed me to think further and more broadly about my own potential professional path. In an industry that is always changing, pushing boundaries and looking for the new new thing, looking beyond the traditional paths may not be the worst idea in the world.
My industry preconceptions would not have been challenged or broken in this way without a trip to Summit. And trust me, I will be returning next year, hungry for more.