The Trade Show Experience with Vestibular Disability and Sensory Processing Challenges

It’s mid-January 2024 and I am in New York City for the NRF 2024 Retail Big Show. This event is hosted annually at the Jacob Javitz Center and is a conference focused on retail technology and e-commerce.

This location holds nostalgic memories for me! I have frequented this event numerous times in the past, prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, during my time as a retail executive and while providing press coverage. I feel right at home here.

It’s been a few years since my last visit to the Javitz Center, and a lot has changed in my life since then. Most significantly, this was my first major trade show since being diagnosed with Ramsay Hunt Syndrome. It was also my first large trade show since discovering that I am neurodivergent and have sensory processing differences. I have to be honest and admit that I didn't pay as much attention to these two facts as I should have.

Recently, I have been feeling great as my vestibular issues have been minimal for the past year and a half, and I thought I had a strong understanding of my personal needs.

But oh boy did I learn some really important lessons during this event. It wasn’t smooth sailing, at all. There were tears, panic, exhaustion, and so many moments of uncertainty that tested my strength and resilience. However, through it all, I gained valuable insights that will shape me into becoming a stronger and more resilient individual. I’m here to share some of my experience with you so that you can learn from my mistakes.

I want to start by saying that the following information is valuable not only for individuals with vestibular issues or neurodiversity, but also for event designers, marketers, organizers and frequent trade show attendees. My goal is for the insights I provide to empower everyone to become stronger allies and advocates for disability inclusion, as well as more proficient event designers or producers.

Trade shows can be physically demanding, even for those who are in top shape. The long hours spent on your feet walking the floor, manning a booth, networking, pitching, and other activities can take a toll. This often results in sore feet, aching back, and the added strain of attending company dinners, industry parties, client meetings, and more. The fast-paced nature of trade shows can be overwhelming and exhausting, and even the most resilient individuals can struggle to keep up, particularly during multi-day shows lasting 3 days or more.

When you combine various elements on a trade show floor that pose difficulties for individuals with vestibular issues, the situation can rapidly escalate from challenging to overwhelming. What specific elements contribute to this? Here are some of the primary triggers that are abundant at trade show expos.

Lights!
The trade show floor is filled with a dazzling array of lights - from blinking and bright lights to neon signs and large format displays. This creates an overwhelming visual experience that can be harsh on the eyes.

A Symphony of Sound
The experience is more than just noise – it's an engulfing wave of sound. Conversations intermingle, music adds to the cacophony, and various booths become platforms for presentations. The expo hall resembles a colossal airplane hangar, amplifying the auditory environment to new heights.

Surfaces Galore
A diverse range of walking surfaces is available at the event. Each booth features a unique flooring, affecting the visual experience and the proprioception involved in walking on these different surfaces. The presence of cords beneath carpets, occasional speed bumps, and awkward dips adds to the challenge. While individuals with excellent balance may view it as an obstacle course, those with vestibular balance issues may perceive it as an experience akin to participating in American gladiator.

Popcorn, Peanuts, Crackerjacks!
Each booth has giveaways and vendors, this can include coffee baristas (shout out to our booth barista, who was an essential teammate for our caffeination needs). There are lots of smells, good smells, but lots of them.

So now you have the picture of the venue, it’s easier to understand the sensory overload that this type of space offers. But why was this event not smooth sailing?

The most valuable lesson I learned was, if you are a person who can benefit from a sensory space or quiet room do not wait until you need that space to ask where it is.

On day 2 after going full steam on day 1 and attending a post expo party that my company hosted, followed by going out with a few colleagues after… I was tired. As soon as I got to the booth the “boat started rocking” the entire expo felt as if I was on a floating convention, my senses were hypersensitive. The room started to spin, vertigo was setting in full force. I hadn’t had a major episode in over a year, so with this also some panic set in.

It was time to get off the floor and find a spot to sit down. If you have ever been to a trade show at the Javitz, that is easier said than done. After about 5-10 minutes of wandering around looking for a chair with no success I found exhibitor services. I asked the nice ladies working that help desk if the venue had a sensory space or quiet room. Unfortunately the answer was no. Overwhelm was pouring in and the tears began to fill my eyes. They now looked panicked themselves. How can we help you? What do you need? They really wanted to help but weren’t sure how, through my tears I kept repeating “I’m ok, I’m ok I just need a quiet spot to sit down”. They tried to show me on the map where the mothers room was, that was the closest thing to a quiet room they could come up with. But this room was 3 levels down and on the other side of the convention center.

With the room spinning, trying to navigate to this location felt like an impossible task. What I did know was that I had to get away from the noise, so I attempted with my tearing eyes to find this Level 1 mothers rooms, as I walked through the dungeon of Level 1 there was no room in sight. However Level 1 was more quiet, so that at least helped me find a place to sit down and calm the sensory storm that was happening.

The moral of the story here is, if you need a sensory space or quiet space… plan ahead. Know if the venue offers it, know where it is if they do. Your ability to navigate it during the time of need is not going to happen. If you are an event designer, producer or organizer, thing about how you can offer a space like this. It’s a way to be more inclusive to people that might struggle in these environments. Also things about how to have this space conveniently located and not far far away, because getting to them when they are in the far corners of the venue isn’t accessible.

The challenge, many chill spaces get camped out by people who just want to sit down for a bit, take a call, rest their feet. That’s important too… but we need to find a way to provide more dedicated accessible judgement free spaces to meet the needs of neurodiverse people and people with any physical, non-apparent and sensory disabilities.

So while I “crash” for the next few days to recover from the sensory storm I put my vestibular system through, I leave you with this food for thought. How can your next event be more inclusive for those with disabilities? How can you create moments, spaces and experiences that serve the needs of everyone… including people with disabilities?