Most facilitation advice starts the moment people walk into the room. Prepare your flip charts. Sort the chairs into some reasonable configuration. But Katie Clark brought two stories that are deliberately not about what happens during a workshop — they're about everything that happens before it, and around it, and especially what happens when there's more than one facilitator in the mix, with wildly different experience levels and organisational standing. In the first story, Katie is fresh out of university on a massive enterprise R&D transformation, increasingly frustrated that nobody understands the data in a very old, very enterprise-y system. She spends far too long with an enterprise architect staring at database schema wallpapers. Her suggestion — "Can we just ask the people working on this today?" — gets two unexpected responses. Her stream lead physically walks her to the next building, introduces her to the people she's about to invite, asks whether they're willing to spend the time, and only then sends the invitation. And she gets told: this is a good idea, but you need someone with more grey hair to help facilitate, to make sure you're taken seriously. Katie, who had a hairdresser appointment coming up, offered to solve the problem herself. Years later — still no grey hair — Katie is in a leadership role, formally accountable for a project spinning a new subdomain out into its own service. This time the workshop belongs firmly to the team. She isn't running it, she has to ask permission to attend, and she's only allowed to join ninety minutes in. So all her influence happens beforehand: coffee chats, one-on-ones, iterating the agenda with subgroups, working out what a realistic goal before lunch actually looks like. When she finally slips into a corner chair, she reaches for a marker, asks which arrows point where, slides sticky notes towards the loudest person in the room, and deploys the line that becomes the afternoon's running joke: "Oh my gosh, that's such a great point. It might even deserve to be on a sticky note." This conversation is about the invisible half of facilitation — the pre-work Andrew calls "rolling the pitch." We get into ageism cutting in both directions, why Katie now asks for a co-facilitator even when she doesn't need one, delegating chunks of facilitation to participants (chief Elmo officer, anyone?), using the IKEA effect on your own agenda, and why lunch is the most underrated boundary in workshop design. Key Discussion Points [00:01] Zigzagging Between Business and Tech: Katie on refusing to be put in a Venn diagram, and why she didn't hide her soft skills well enough[00:03] Consent Before the Calendar Invite: Walking to the next building to meet participants in person before anything gets scheduled[00:04] "You Need Someone With More Grey Hair": Being told to borrow credibility at 25, and the hairdresser appointment that almost solved it[00:07] Not My Workshop: Leading from a corner chair when you're accountable for the project but the workshop belongs to the team[00:11] "It Might Even Deserve to Be on a Sticky Note": How a sarcastic aside turned into the group's own documentation discipline[00:15] Facilitation Tandems: Asking for a co-facilitator even when you don't need one, and why it's pair programming for workshops[00:20] Chief Elmo Officer: Delegating time-boxing, topic discipline and documentation to participants in a high-stakes session[00:22] Rolling the Pitch: Andrew names the pre-work — the coffees, the agenda iterations, the expectation management that stops one person wanting three hours of chat and another wanting fifteen ADRs[00:24] The IKEA Effect on Your Agenda: Using a bias deliberately, and being happy to call it whatever wording people are comfortable with[00:31] What Do We Want Before Lunch: Lunch as a natural boundary, and why the last sixty minutes of a seven-hour workshop won't save you Guest: Katie Clark Hosts: Andrew Harmel-Law, Kenny Schwegler, Andrea Magnorsky