The conference hall buzzed with quiet anticipation. It was a small, single-track event, just a few days long, but the air carried that familiar sense of formality that can make even the most seasoned attendees hesitate to speak up. As a student volunteer at the reception, I had a unique vantage point — and a mission: to turn these tentative interactions into moments of connection and creativity through the F.I.S.H.framework.
Days before the conference officially began, I roamed the venue, imagining the flow of attendees. I noted quiet corners and wide-open spaces, anticipating where people might gather if encouraged. When the first attendees arrived, I donned the volunteer t-shirt that marked me as approachable, a bridge between strangers and conversation. With a lighthearted smile, I offered the invitation that would become the spark for countless interactions:
“Hi, my name is Joe. Would you like to draw a fish?”
At first, some paused, hesitant, questioning the idea:
“Is this for a study?”
Others wondered aloud if drawing a lobster or something else would still count. I reassured them, emphasizing freedom over instruction. Any creature, any style, any amount of colour — the only goal was to enjoy the process. And slowly, walls began to drop. Laughter broke out. Conversations unfolded over pencils and paper. A simple prompt became a shared stage for creativity, curiosity, and connection.
Watching the attendees, I saw patterns emerge. Students were eager, sketching boldly, smiling as they compared their creations with others. Senior professionals were more reserved initially, but by the end of the day, even the most hesitant were dipping pens into paper, joining the playful challenge. Some infused their sketches with HCI elements, cleverly tying their work back to the conference themes. Others surrendered entirely to aesthetic exploration, layering colors and textures into intricate designs. Those with prior artistic experience naturally poured more detail into their drawings, while beginners produced simpler, yet equally meaningful, works. Every sketch told a story, reflecting individual confidence, experience, and personality.
The magic truly unfolded in the informal moments. During dinner sessions and casual breaks, the conference transformed. Laughter echoed through the room. Conversations sparked over shared sketches. Personal connections formed outside the rigidity of scheduled sessions. The F.I.S.H. activity, small in scale but big in effect, revealed that creativity and play could dissolve social barriers, turning formal interactions into genuine human connection.
This experience left me with more than sketches; it left questions and possibilities:
How could the strategies that thrived in this intimate setting adapt to the sprawling complexity of a larger, multi-track conference?
Could the same spark of curiosity and connection scale without losing its warmth and playfulness?
The answers would shape the next chapter of F.I.S.H., and the journey was just beginning.
Human Computer Fish 