Facebook memories can come in pretty handy in connecting some dots and reminding you just how weird things can be. For instance, what's with July, and why is it the time when I end up having speaking engagements?

Yes, I've reached a point in my career when I am the one speaking, as a subject matter expert, to audiences of industry peers. Only it isn't exactly the case. In most of these instances, I am the substitute, because the guy originally invited - an invitation I most likely coordinated - ended up being unavailable. So, one July, I ended up speaking for a foreign chamber about supply chain. Another July, I ended up being a reactor for a government event about supply chain. You get the idea.

It's weird. Perhaps it's weird because of impostor syndrome. Like, what business do I have to speak about supply chain? I may have worked in the industry for... let me check... a decade now, but I am very much cognizant that I do not have operational experience. I was never in a position to make decisions about how and when the products you buy in stores are delivered.

I am, however, the comms guy, and I work with people who can be best described as nerds. (That description came from the head of one of the country's largest food manufacturers, who spoke at one of our events.) They know their stuff, and have the numbers to prove it, but articulating their expertise in a way that people outside the industry understand isn't necessarily their best suit. So, whatever expertise I may seem to have, thanks to my newspaper columns and my overall immersion to the sector, is down to what I learn from them.

And I guess that's good enough to make me a subject matter expert by extension.

Last week I found myself in that situation once again. We - by this I mean we were a supporting organization, but not the organizers - had an event at a Makati hotel, and I helped out by connecting them with one of our directors, who would act as the moderator of the panel discussion. The day before the event, she told me she had to skip the event. Doctor's orders. So, I ended up being the moderator in her place, never mind that I wasn't really able to attend any of the pre-event calls, because my only job was supposedly to show up.

Sure, I did write about the panel's subject matter multiple times. The original moderator suggested as much, that perhaps I should have been moderating because of that semblance of knowledge. I initially gave her my notes, but for one evening, I ended up expanding on my notes, finalizing my ten questions, and letting go of the fact that not all of these questions will be asked, as is the case with panel discussions that are up against the clock. In any case, it's a skill I had to learn over two years of online events, where we shifted fully to a panel format because people just don't have the time to sit through the usual lecture-style events we had in the old days. (Not to mention we were trying that format out just before the pandemic, in our in-person events.)

It was nerve-wracking. One panelist was my boss, which is understandable. Another is an airline head, a Dutch guy. Yet another is phoning in from Hong Kong. And then there's me, the least knowledgeable person in the room, asking questions, moving things along. I survived, thankfully, and the organizers seemed pretty pleased with how I went about it. Also, the "token of appreciation" - a Hong Kong milk tea set, complete with the silk stocking cha chaan teng style - was a really nice touch.

Still, it's weird being seen as an expert. This is most definitely the impostor syndrome speaking. I've counted. I have spoken with a foreign chamber twice, once in person. I have spoken to MBA students twice, once in person. I have moderated a panel discussion. I have become a reactor. Both instances, in person. I survived all those instances, but at some point I will feel like I am just faking it, that there are more capable and qualified people to do what I just did. But what was it about faking it 'til you make it?

Facebook also reminds me of this one speaking engagement I had that had nothing to do with the industry I am in. I was invited because... I guess it's because I am qualified? Sars, who now works as a college professor, wrote a research paper decoding Jo Koy's humor, and I was asked to be one of the reactors. I mean, I guess I'm also a pop culture expert, having written about American television for the first four years of my working life, and having written a music blog (that did not pay, I must clarify) for seven years after that. In any case, I also survived, managing to thread Glee, Bella Poarch and Trevor Noah into whatever it is I just said. The bigger challenge, admittedly, was delivering the whole damn thing in Filipino.