<p>Labels make me cringe. They reduce a complex, ever-changing reality to a simplistic binary, suggesting you are either “in” or “out” of a group. They represent a limiting perspective on a reality that is ever external. A few years ago, I shared my thoughts in a <i>Functional Ecology</i> blog post on the ways labels are used to define our identities (Klemet-N'Guessan <span>2020</span>). Four years and a PhD later, I find myself even more detached from labels and titles that, at best, describe a role that we choose to play. But in a world obsessed with categorization, especially within Western science, I will play along—if only to challenge the game.</p><p>Born into a multicultural family, I grew up between the banks of the Garonne in Toulouse, France, the shores of the Atlantic Ocean in Abidjan, Côte d'Ivoire, and those of the Mediterranean Sea in Tunis, Tunisia. My last two years of high school were spent between Kenya and the United States. And it is in the blending of these cultures that my identity as both a scientist and a multidimensional human being began to take shape.</p><p>Three pivotal experiences sparked my scientific awakening. The first came at eight years old, watching the cartoon <i>Dexter's Laboratory</i>, where a young boy performed wild and colorful experiments in his basement. Inspired, I tried my hand at concocting potions in what I affectionately called my “Tunisian basement”—even though we do not actually have basements in Tunisia. At ten, I watched my first documentary about climate change. Enraged by the damage the “adults” at the time had caused, I vowed to dedicate my career to saving our blue planet. That was when I wrote my first “thesis”—though in retrospect, it was more of a manifesto (Fig. 1). Five years later, I experienced my first taste of research during an internship at the Institut Pasteur in Tunis. That was when I knew I wanted to pursue a PhD and fully immerse myself in the world of science.</p><p>While nurturing my scientific ambitions, other facets of my identity were also taking shape. I developed passions for drama, music, baking, and a variety of sports. Influences like Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King, symbols of peace, reconciliation, and resilience, forged my worldview. My Baoulé (i.e., ethnic group in Côte d'Ivoire) heritage, particularly the story of Queen Abla Pokou, who sacrificed her only child in the raging Comoé River to lead her people to safety, inspired me deeply. This strong, compassionate woman leader became a beacon for me as a woman and as a scientist.</p><p>Foundational texts like Mes étoiles noires (My Black Stars) by Lilian Thuram (<span>2010</span>) and Les Identités meurtrières (Murderous Identities) by Amin Maalouf (<span>1998</span>) guided me on a journey of self-discovery, teaching me that anyone, regardless of background, can excel in any field. My curiosity about the scientific achievements of great civilizations, from Ancient Egypt to the Abbasid Caliphate during the
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<p>ASLO members consistently indicate in member surveys that ASLO conferences and publications are the two things they value most among the many programs and activities we provide. Like all professional societies, ASLO is experiencing sharp increases in the costs of putting on our conferences, with the most dramatic increases seen in food and beverage (F&B) and audiovisual (AV) costs. ASLO has long provided very generous catering and full-service AV, including expansive, no-cost full internet service for attendees at our conferences. The explosion in costs that began in 2020 has accelerated around the globe, impacting our members in their own lives, as well as ASLO.</p><p>ASLO has three primary sources of revenue—membership dues, publications revenue, and conference revenue. The latter is comprised primarily of registration and abstract fees, with smaller contributions from exhibitors and sponsors. These primary sources of revenue must generate enough funds to support the society's operations, including membership promoting programs such as travel awards and discounted meeting registration for students and early career researchers. And ASLO is run very leanly, with only three employees and our business and conference management team at Bostrom. Unlike many professional societies, ASLO has no physical structure (owned or leased buildings) nor their high associated costs. Employees all work virtually from their home offices. Our fiduciary responsibility to our members is to ensure that ASLO remains viable, sustainable, and effective—conferences must therefore generate revenue beyond the expenses required to hold our meetings.</p><p>I sat down with Julie Elfand to talk about the cost increases, how ASLO is working hard to mitigate these costs, and how new realities are impacting things like the level of F&B spending we can sustain going forward.</p><p>