The author at her first ACS conference.

In my earlier years, I wanted to be a doctor. I thought that was the only career where I could make a mark on the world: by literally saving lives. Later, through life’s twists and turns, I developed new passions — first for chemistry, and then for chemistry education. I was educated in my home country of Egypt; eventually, through a partnership facilitated by my college, I began my teaching career in the United Arab Emirates. Though my career aspirations changed, my passion for having an influence on the world has remained steady.

When I became a teacher, I quickly realized that teaching students is not the organized and direct process that I had envisioned. I began trying out new ideas and “thinking outside the box” in an attempt to better motivate my students to think for themselves and to build their appreciation and enthusiasm for how chemistry can explain the world. I employed action research to test out how various ideas, strategies, and tools that I’d encountered might influence my students’ thinking and attitudes. Over time, I realized that teaching would become my way of making a mark on the world and that, to make that mark, I’d need to get out of my comfort zone and learn what others were doing in the wider world of chemistry education.

Seeking global perspectives

About two years ago, I started to feel a bit isolated in my education research pursuits. I’ve always been curious about other countries, and began to think I was missing out on important educational perspectives by staying in the safety of my own school environment. My curiosity led me to the Internet, where I found many websites that offered a variety of opportunities to expand my horizons and grow in my field. In fact, there were so many options for professional development, research sharing, and international speaking engagements, it was a little overwhelming — and as a result, I never moved forward on any.

That’s how I found my way to the American Chemical Society, where I started reading published research, learning about new ideas in chemistry education, and signing up for emails and newsletters about virtual and in-person conferences. Even better, I soon learned that ACS also had a division specifically for high school teachers, the American Association of Chemistry Teachers. I immediately joined and began reading articles written by fellow teachers, and also looking for ways to participate and contribute. As more emails and newsletters arrived, a desire was building in me to find a way into that wider world of education and science that I was continually reading about.

In the autumn of 2024, I was working on some action research that I was really excited about. I had arranged access for my students to a virtual reality platform and was using it to study the effects it might have on my students’ molecular visualization capabilities. At this point, I had been receiving emails about various US conferences for over a year, and each time I read them my inner fear told me, I can’t travel… I can’t leave my work… it would be a huge problem.

But one day, after yet another call for abstracts arrived in my email inbox, rather than immediately thinking of reasons why I couldn’t do it, my thoughts went instead to my research project. My research did address a real problem in chemistry education. This problem was certainly not limited to my own small part of the world. I was using a modern, innovative technique to address it. I remember thinking, maybe I can do this!

The call for abstracts was for the ACS Spring Meeting in San Diego, and I had always wanted to travel to the United States! The deadline for submission was over a month away. In a moment of spontaneity, I wrote up an abstract for my research project and submitted it immediately, before I could let the fear and doubt talk me out of it. I wasn’t sure whether my research was appropriate for the conference or whether it was of interest to anyone besides myself, so those few months of waiting to find out whether my abstract would be accepted or rejected made me anxious, indeed!

A sense of growing anticipation

Having become a global member of ACS (that is, a member residing outside the US), I knew I’d need to obtain a visa, find and book flights and hotels, and plan for all the other details of international travel – if my abstract was accepted. Though my uncertainty kept me from starting to plan right away, I was fortunate to receive notice of my acceptance with about three months left before I’d have to begin my travel. I quickly applied for a visa, registered for an emergency application appointment, and began making all the other arrangements (Figure 1). The process wasn’t smooth, but eventually everything did work out.

In the months leading up to the conference, I had constructed a particular image in my mind of how my dream of sharing my ideas with researchers outside of my country would look and feel. I anticipated many of the positive aspects, but I soon discovered I was going to experience something even more exceptional: an academic and welcoming atmosphere where I could do something that would make me proud to be in this field.

My conference experience

The conference was well organized from start to finish. Each type of event was scheduled in a space conducive to the nature of the event. There were many people available to assist attendees with picking up badges, receiving their attendee gifts, and finding the right exhibit halls, meetings, and presentation rooms. I saw chemists from around the world participating, socializing, and demonstrating a serious commitment to their research while also being friendly and approachable. Rather than feeling like an outsider, as I had imagined, I soon felt like part of a vibrant global community of dedicated scientists and educators.

My research had been accepted through the ACS Education Division as part of Sci-Mix, which is a combination poster session and social event, highlighting research from each ACS division. Upon arriving for the set-up before the session, I found that the posters had been arranged by division, so it was easy to meet presenters whose research also focused on chemistry education.

At first, I worried about the originality of my project when I noticed a neighboring poster with components that seemed similar to my own. However, some discussion assured me that, though we did have some of the same variables, our approaches were quite distinct from each other. When the official session began, I spent an hour explaining my ideas to passing attendees and then took time to wander to other sections and interact with presenters doing a wide range of research. The presenters I met were from many different countries and universities, and their ideas greatly helped me to expand and extend my own ideas for improving chemistry education.

As I took in the various types of sessions, I noticed that most of the presenters exhibited strong communication skills, and I saw many excellent and varied presentation styles: some focused on the core idea and results, while others explained how their ideas originated and what they achieved. Some used images and charts to demonstrate concepts, and others delivered their ideas convincingly through conversation. I saw presentations about testing for future academic readiness and others about analyzing university curricula. To me, the most intriguing presentation was one about the use of 3D printing to create science lab tools, including how the tools work and how to repair them if they get damaged. Most presenters also handed out business cards with their contact information, an idea I plan to employ at my next conference.

It didn’t take me long to recognize the benefits of in-person, rather than virtual, attendance at a conference like this. As I attended different parts of the conference, I felt like I had been set free, and my mind started engaging at a higher level in considering a variety of chemistry education challenges. Instead of blindly searching for problems to solve, or hastily trying to solve problems as they emerged, I found myself thinking more deeply about big ideas — like how to enhance technology usage, and how doing so could improve other things I had not even been considering. Each presentation I watched sparked several related ideas that I might want to explore in the future.

Of course, it is possible to learn about research through published works and by attending conference sessions online without the necessity of travel or attendance. However, hearing the verbal explanations provided directly by researchers, as well as engaging in discussions that may lead to new solutions or to the identification of novel problems, are benefits one can only experience by being physically present. Such an environment stimulates creativity and development for all present. Just as food cannot be tasted through a picture, the essence of this type of conference cannot be entirely experienced through a screen. Attending in person makes a difference!

Parting message

Attending and presenting at this conference represented a turning point for me in how I view my future educational research pursuits. Though my presentation represented only a small part of my time at the conference, it was what brought me to this place and made me feel like part of a community. This experience has inspired me and fueled my passion for becoming an agent of educational change. The opportunity to engage with chemists and chemistry education experts, to learn about their perspectives, and to grow in my own scientific communication abilities has given me the confidence to continue seeking similar opportunities in the future.

To be responsible for an idea shared with the world requires more than just knowledge; it demands courage and strong science communication skills. Do you have the courage to share your ideas? I hope my story may encourage you to break through your barriers, take a risk, and experience the invigoration of presenting your ideas to an audience beyond your classroom. You won’t regret it.