An Old EdTech Guy’s Guide to ISTE 2026

June 6, 2026

“Always drink upstream from the herd.” ~ Will Rogers

With ISTE+ASCD later this month in Orlando, I've been thinking back to my first conference almost twenty years ago.

My first ISTE conference was actually the National Educational Computing Conference (NECC), put on by ISTE, in Atlanta back in 2007.

At the time, I had just transitioned from being an elementary principal to becoming the Director of Instructional Technology at Clear Creek ISD. To say I was drinking from a fire hose would be an understatement. One month I was focused on instruction, teachers, buses, parent meetings, creating class lists for the upcoming school year (always a fun job for an elementary principal), and running a campus. The next month I was responsible for helping shape technology strategy for an entire school district.

I remember walking into that conference thinking I was going to figure it all out.

A few hours later, I realized that wasn't happening.

The exhibit hall felt endless. Sessions were happening everywhere. Companies I'd never heard of were launching products I didn't understand. Everyone seemed to know where they were going except me. I was completely overwhelmed. In fact, I remember wanting to go back to my hotel room, get in the fetal position, and regroup. I felt defeated. I was stressed. I felt responsible for helping our district make good decisions for students, and suddenly it seemed like there were a thousand different directions we could go.

Back then, the conference felt enormous. To be honest, I have no idea how many people were actually there, but I remember feeling like I was standing in the middle of the educational technology universe. Today, with ISTE+ASCD bringing together technology leaders, instructional leaders, administrators, and educators from across the country, the event is even larger than it was back then. Ironically, though, it feels much smaller to me now.

Not because the conference changed.

Because I changed.

Today, nearly twenty years later, ISTE feels more like a reunion than a trade show. I run into former colleagues, customers, partners, superintendents, CTOs, founders, and friends almost everywhere I go. It can be difficult to walk the floor without stopping to catch up with someone. This year I'll be speaking again. I'll attend partner events, a couple of pre-ISTE gatherings, networking events, media conversations, and countless formal and informal meetings throughout the week. That's probably true for many longtime attendees. A significant portion of the conference now happens before the exhibit hall opens, before the first session starts, and often outside the main event itself.

None of that is meant as a brag. If anything, it's a reminder that careers are long. The people you meet at conferences have a funny way of showing back up years later. What feels overwhelming as a newcomer often feels familiar two decades later.

Looking back, that first experience taught me what may be the most important lesson I've learned about ISTE over the last twenty years.

Everybody goes to ISTE, but almost nobody goes for the same reason.

That's just as true today at ISTE+ASCD as it was at NECC in 2007.

The biggest mistake people make is assuming there is a right way to attend the conference. There isn't. A superintendent's ISTE is different from a CTO's ISTE. A classroom teacher's ISTE is different from a startup founder's ISTE. A speaker's conference experience is different from an exhibitor's. What a large company hopes to accomplish may have very little in common with what a first-time attendee needs from the week. The people who get the most value from ISTE are usually the people who know why they are there before they arrive.

If I could give one piece of advice to a first-time attendee, it would be simple: create a plan. You are not going to attend every session, see every booth, meet every person on your list, or experience everything the conference has to offer. That's okay. One of the biggest traps at ISTE is conference FOMO, and I've watched people wear themselves out trying to consume everything. The goal isn't to experience all of ISTE. The goal is to get the most value from ISTE for your particular role and objectives.

Every year there is a next big thing. Over the last two decades, I've watched the conversation move from interactive whiteboards and projectors, to one-to-one computing, cloud infrastructure, digital content, STEM initiatives, coding, makerspaces, interoperability, cybersecurity, family engagement, and now artificial intelligence. Every year something captures the attention of the industry. Every year there is a company, a product, or a trend that seems to dominate the conversation. Every year someone declares that everything is about to change.

Sometimes they're right.

Most of the time, the real work is much less exciting.

The reality is that the coolest thing at ISTE+ASCD may have absolutely nothing to do with what your district needs. That's why I always tell people to start with strategy, not the exhibit hall. Know what problem you're trying to solve. Know what your district priorities are. Know what your students, teachers, and community actually need. Know your budget. Then use the conference to support those goals rather than letting the conference create them for you.

One thing first-time attendees often miss is that ISTE starts before ISTE. Back in 2007, I basically showed up, got my badge, and started wandering around. Today, there are state affiliate gatherings, communities, affinity groups, networking events, customer meetings, happy hours, and countless opportunities to find your people. Some of the most valuable conversations happen the day before the conference starts and outside the main event itself. Those smaller settings are often where real relationships get built.

Finding your people matters. Finding your community matters. Those relationships often end up creating far more long-term value than any single session or booth visit.

Speaking of booths, one thing vendors consistently misunderstand is assuming district leaders came to ISTE to see them. They didn't.

At its core, ISTE+ASCD is a learning conference. District leaders are trying to learn. They're connecting with peers. They're evaluating ideas. They're looking for ways to improve outcomes for students and staff. Years ago, I used to joke that I turned my badge around because I felt like a whitetail on opening day of deer season in Texas. Every vendor in the exhibit hall seemed to know exactly where I was. The best vendors understand this. They listen more than they pitch. They focus on understanding challenges before talking about solutions. They view conversations as the beginning of relationships rather than the end of a sales cycle.

The same principle applies to companies exhibiting at ISTE. One thing I've learned from attending as both a district leader and an executive is that not every conference should be measured the same way. Leads matter. Of course they do. But sometimes success is customer meetings. Sometimes it's partnerships. Sometimes it's announcing a product. Sometimes it's building awareness. Sometimes it's simply planting a flag and telling the market you're serious.

I've seen companies spend enormous amounts of money assuming a bigger booth would solve their growth challenges. It rarely works that way. As I've spent more time on the operating side of businesses, I've come to appreciate how quickly those decisions show up on a P&L. If your economics are already under pressure, spending six figures on a conference because you're hoping for a miracle is a dangerous strategy. Conferences are great accelerators when the fundamentals are working. They're rarely a substitute for fixing the fundamentals. The companies that get the most value from conferences like ISTE are usually the ones that understand exactly why they're there and how the event fits into a broader strategy.

A conference can amplify a strategy. It can't replace one.

And while we're talking about observations, I do have a few ISTE pet peeves.

The first is conference swag. I've never quite understood the people who leave with bags and bags of tchotchkes like they're preparing for a long winter. To be fair, I was never completely innocent here either. Over the years, I always picked up a few things for my boys. I remember when fidget spinners were the big thing and making sure I brought a couple home. But every year I see people hauling around enough tote bags, stress balls, water bottles, sunglasses, and assorted gadgets to open a small store. You're surrounded by some of the smartest educators and technology leaders in the world, yet somehow the scavenger hunt for swag becomes part of the experience.

The second is badge ribbons. You know the ones. They hand them out at registration and before long some attendees have accumulated enough ribbons to document every committee, organization, role, certification, and professional affiliation they've ever had. Again, no judgment. It's part of the culture and honestly kind of fun. But every year I find myself seeing a badge with ribbons approaching ankle level. By Wednesday, some of those ribbons are dragging the floor behind them like the train on a wedding dress.

My third pet peeve is related. Educators often see the booth, the branding, the giveaways, and the excitement. What they don't see are the balance sheets, fundraising efforts, board meetings, and growth challenges happening behind the scenes. Some of the flashiest companies on the exhibit floor are not always the healthiest. That's not a knock on startups. Some of the most innovative companies in EdTech started small. It's simply a reminder that sustainability matters. Schools invest time, training, implementation effort, and trust into these partnerships. When a company disappears or pivots away from education, educators and students are often left dealing with the consequences.

Which brings me back to where we started.

In nearly twenty years of attending ISTE, one thing has remained remarkably consistent. There will always be a next big thing. In fact, there will probably be three or four of them in Orlando this year. There will always be a product everyone is talking about. There will always be a trend that dominates the conversation. There will always be a reason to get distracted.

The goal is not to chase whatever wins ISTE.

The goal is to determine whether it matters for your students.

Know why you're there. Create a plan. Execute the plan. Stay open to what happens along the way.

And remember that the relationships you build often end up being more valuable than anything you saw on the exhibit floor.

See you in Orlando.

I’ll be the old EdTech guy in boots, Wranglers, pearl snaps, and a mustache looking like I took a wrong turn leaving the ranch and somehow ended up at one of the largest education conferences in the world.