Author: Ružica Vrdoljak Ličina
Some people go on vacation after an event. We open a new Google Doc. Because as soon as one SoMo Borac ends, we’re already writing down ideas for the next one, what we can do differently and how we can be even better. Because SoMo Borac never really stops, it just changes pace. This year, a day before SoMo Borac 2025 even happened, we already booked the venue for 2026. (If you love planning as much as we do – 23.10.2026., Zagreb.)
Everything begins with what sounds simple: a date and a location. But from that moment on, a cascade of ideas and decisions starts, everything from strategic ones like the program and partnerships, to the small, fun ones: which stickers we’ll print, which artists we’ll listen to, what coffee to serve, and which meme will go on social. Those little things may not be necessary for the event to exist – but they are necessary for it to have character.
Over the years, I’ve accepted that I have high expectations. Luckily, the rest of the team shares them. We expect the jury to be focused and fair, the audience to arrive curious, and ourselves to give everything meaning and balance, but also to show everything we know.
Is this the mature phase of SoMo Borac?
Even though we’ve been doing the awards for 13 years, the conference has been with us for “only” the third time. That part changed everything. It became more complex and required a different mix of skills, but it seems we’ve learned a lot because this year we had the least stress ever. One of the ways we “help ourselves” is that two weeks before the event, the “core” team sits together. Literally. Those days are the most intense, but also the sweetest. Everything is in motion, and each day brings one big “task” we resolve, since that’s the time of final preparations for the event, the second round of jurying, program finalization, and many other elements. And an infinite number of small decisions. If the event looks like everything flows smoothly and effortlessly, it means the team tried to anticipate as many possible situations as they could, and how to handle them. But that final period is also when we laugh the most, allow ourselves a chocolate or chips too many, and maybe taste some other sponsor products a bit later in the evening, you guess which.
The most important thing we nurture as a team is trust. Over the years we’ve gone through all scenarios, delays, unexpected schedule gaps, illnesses, right when you don’t need them. And every time, we figured it out. Trust means you can say out loud “I’m stuck here” and know someone will catch you, without blame or excuses. Trust also means shared celebration: when a great LinkedIn post appears, a loud applause for a speaker, or a sponsor message saying “this is exactly it,” and you can’t wait to share it with the team.
A structure that protects ideas
If you ask me what protects us the most, the answer is: open feedback. We ask a lot from each other, so we must be ready to both give and receive. That doesn’t mean there’s no tension, but it definitely means the project survives and grows stronger. In every part, we try to clearly define expectations and responsibilities, both from each other and from the people we work with: the jury, speakers, audience. For example, in the program section, Barbara Tadić gives clear instructions for speakers: who the audience is, what we want the audience to take away, what our previous experiences are, how to prepare a talk that fits this specific audience. That gives everyone clarity, and clarity frees creativity.
The biggest challenge every year is the same: how the audience will react. Some topics look perfect on paper, and then in the room you feel they don’t breathe. Others, the ones you think are “side topics,” suddenly become the talk of the day. That is exactly the beauty and the nervousness of this job: every year we learn the audience again, and they learn us.
The community, up close
If I had to choose one ritual, it’s the jury lunch. That’s where I hear everything, the good and the “could be better.” There’s always one table that’s the hardest to “push out” of that lunch; you might know them as the “front row crew.” They laugh loudly, but also give precise feedback. When I think “why are we doing all this?”, I think of that table.
My favorite part of the competition process is when new jury members, going through the entire cycle, realize how many smart, well-argued, and different perspectives exist in our community. That moment – “aha, this is more than awards” – is actually SoMo at its core.
Today, SoMo is a place where the regional digital scene is truly visible. I notice a few trends: the audience is more critical (in the best way), topics are more concrete (less hype, more “we showed it, we measured it”), and the energy is more mature. People come with the intention to learn something, meet someone, start something. And you can feel that in every hallway and every “see you later.”
The energy you feel behind the scenes
On the day of the conference, the atmosphere is exactly what we hope for: warm, cheerful, intense, and ready for action. As part of the organization, I rarely catch the entire program live; I watch most of it afterwards, and then I just smile because I see what many have already told me. But behind the scenes, when I steal a minute to look at the audience following along, or when I exchange first impressions with speakers and jury members, that’s when all the tiredness disappears. And what makes me happiest are the encounters. The extrovert in me (and the organizer in me) equally enjoy smiling faces and serious discussions. It’s the mix we love most: warmth and high standards.
I usually know the day before, at rehearsal, that we’re ready. On the day of the event, I’m calm, everyone knows what they’re doing and who to ask when they don’t. Still, everyone on the team has their personal moment of “now I can breathe”: for me, it’s the closing of the awards ceremony; for Barbara, the end of the day program; for Kruno, the last beat the musician plays on stage. After that, the feeling of pride and complete relaxation.
What’s next
Interestingly, while we prepare one year, we’re already writing notes for the next. Ideas come to us in random life moments: on a tram, walking, waiting in line for coffee, at another event, and we simply send each other messages: “This would work great at SoMo.” We already have a few names in the notebook, several concepts we want to explore further, and tons of useful feedback from the jury, speakers, visitors, sponsors, and our own team.
One thing I can promise: SoMo will continue to be what it has been since day one, a space for connection, dialogue, learning, and real encounters. And you, dear ones, write this down: 23.10.2026. Zagreb. See you at SoMo Borac!
