Trans-parent language

Lately I have been watching and enjoying the Amazon television series Transparent. I was thrilled when it won the Golden Globes for Best TV series as Best Actor in a comedy. And now everyone will have have a chance to watch it when Amazon streams the entire season for free on January 24th.

Much has been written about this ground-breaking series since it debuted in the fall. I really do love Jeffrey Tambor's lovingly humorous portrayal of Maura, the transgender parent of the title. He is an actor that I have become familiar with over the years. He has triumphed in countless roles before; he outdoes himself here. And series creator Jill Soloway is acting as a positive disruptive force in the world of formulaic, often sexist Hollywood sitcoms.

So watch it if you like comedy, if you like good acting with smart dialogue, and if you like gorgeous California real estate. If you are squeamish about sex scenes or gender-questioning, this isn't the series for you. But you probably already guessed that!

I also really appreciate how the series, and the growing visibility of the transgender community that it reflects, demands that we examine the powerful role language plays. Maura's family has many questions, but they are summed up by his daughter Ali, who simply asks, "What do we call him now?" The name she settles on, "Moppa," is a lovely compromise, one that Soloway used with her own trans-parent. But personal pronouns remain problematic, and cause some confusion, notably in Episode 5.

I welcome this examination of the power of these words. For too long, many of us protested the offensiveness of using "men" or "mankind" for "people" and "humankind." And were told "oh, you know what I mean." Unfortunately, we did. But refusing to acknowledge the power imbalance implicit in this terminology seems laughable to most of us today. Pick up an old textbook or newspaper, though, and that language propels you right back to the days of the unapologetic patriarchy. So I understand the importance of getting this right. Identity is tied up in how we label ourselves, and how the world labels us. If transgender people, or those who identify as genderqueer want to be referred to as ze, why should we fight it? Nouns and pronouns influence how we see ourselves in relation to society. I grudgingly admit that the growing use of "they" might just solve this problem, though it is extremely hard for my grammar-loving heart to embrace this term. But logic (and the very clever columnist Steven Petrow) convinces me I may have to.

Who knows? If we keep going down this path, someday I may realize one of my wildest dreams, when once and for all we bury the boorish  "you guys" in favor of the simple, elegant "you."

 

Here come the awards!

Happy New Year and welcome to Awards Season! The Golden Globes were Sunday, and the SAG Awards are later this month. As a member of that union, I get to vote, so I have been preparing: watching movie screeners and video links sent by movie studios. There are some terrific performances this year, even in movies that weren't that strong (Julianne Moore is heart-breakingly brilliant in Still Alice, though the movie is rather predictable). One movie I loved months ago when I saw it was Boyhood. And I was thrilled that Patricia Arquette won the Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress Sunday night. Her performance was so nuanced, so true. It never felt forced, or "acted." Director Richard Linklater, filming the same actors over 12 years, created an extraordinary film. And for that, he won Best Director at the Golden Globes and Boyhood was named Best Picture-Drama. The movie focuses on Mason, the titular boy growing to manhood, but it is the character of his mother, Olivia, who provides the strongest anchor.

Arquette plays Olivia with an ease that I rarely see onscreen. And I know that it takes incredible trust to let yourself just be the character so completely. Of course, as actors, we don't have some sort of personality transplant to actually become someone else. But each of us constructs an inner life for our character, based on what the writer and director have given us. During production, we go live that life. It takes tremendous courage to trust that creation, to just let go. To ignore the nagging fear that we will be judged on our performance. Yes, we likely will be—but such thoughts intrude on the character's reality and make it hard for us to fully be there. We need to live in the moment; react to others around us. Be sensitive to what is going on. And pick up those unexpected treasures we happen to stumble across.

If leadership is in the script 

When my clients come to me for help giving speeches, making presentations, or leading meetings, I give them similar advice: "stick to your script," i.e. your preparation—the structure built on your intention and how you will achieve it. The paradox here (as in acting) is that when you are sufficiently grounded in that script (or game plan, agenda, etc.) you are able to let go and just be. You are a better listener, your answers are clearer, your reactions more strategic. You even feel free to improvise a bit, as long as you keep the foundation of that script in mind.

Most of us won't win any acting awards during Awards Season. But we can genuinely be there for our audiences the next time we engage in leadership conversation.

New Year's Day with NPH

Neil Patrick HarrisHappy New Year!

If you want to read yet another blog about New Year's resolutions or predictions for what 2015 has in store for us, I apologize. This is not that blog. But you are welcome to look at what I have written about resolutions in the past. I also have an astrologer friend who makes some interesting predictions based on what the sky tells us is happening now and in the coming months.

No, this first column of the New Year will highlight a wonderful episode of NPR's Fresh Air I heard on New Year's Day. The incomparable Terry Gross rebroadcast an interview with actor/singer/author Neil Patrick Harris from October 13,  2014. Somehow I missed its original air date but am glad I caught it this time around!

Harris is an incredibly wise and grounded (not to mention talented) performer, and he gave a warm and funny interview: I recommend it to you. In conversation with him, Gross covered many intriguing topics. NPH (as he is known to his fans) has had an interesting career as an actor, recently playing a trans-gendered German rock singer in the musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch on Broadway. It was a challenging role, to say the least, and he won a Tony Award for it in 2014. Gross asked him about his approach, specifically about how he transformed physically and vocally into the female rock-singing persona.

As readers of this blog probably know, I coach clients to be better speakers by using the vocal production technique I learned as an actor. So I was particularly fascinated by what Harris said about his vocal routine, and his work with veteran New York voice coach Liz Caplan. She engaged him in detailed work on breathing and posture habits affecting his vocal production, just as I do with my clients. And, like most of the people I work with, NPH had a few things to learn: "As it turns out, the way I carry my personal body is a little neck strained... meaning that I don't stand perfectly tall, I jut my neck forward a little bit. And instead of using my diaphragm and my full breath, I tend to sort of clench my breath right around my throat and allow the sounds to come through... that compression is not so good on your cords because  ... [it] causes some kind of vocal problems later, like nodes or losing your voice". Caplan also gave him exercises for tongue tension, which can add to that vocal stress. Gross, apparently as fascinated by his technique as I was, asked NPH to demonstrate several exercises. They weren't exactly the ones I use, but I would guess any clients of mine who happened to catch the show recognized the similarities.

It was a rewarding episode for me to hear. To know that I teach a technique that works (even for such pros as NPH!), that I continue to share with others who can really be helped by it: what a wonderful way to start the New Year!

Time to light the candles

 

Ah, December!
The days grow short and there is much to be done to "get ready."  I know the holiday frenzy can set in any minute, so I have taken some time recently to reflect on the year as it draws to a close. I did try to keep a mental tally, but lost count of my many blessings. I do know, though, that right up there on the list is fulfilling work with wonderful clients. I am blessed with many talented, creative people who ask me to help give them a boost to more clearly communicate their visions to others. They are from all walks of life; they work in education, corporations, political organizations, government agencies, non-profits--you name it, I've trained 'em! But this time of year I think a lot about my clergy clients, many of whom are in their "crunch" season.

One of them, Casey FitzGerald, has a podcast series, Tales from the Jesse Tree, designed to offer a new spin on an age-old way to mark the holiday season. Casey is a Master Biblical Storyteller, and has worked on using storytelling as a communications tool for years. I am "guesting" on this season's podcast for Advent, sharing my techniques for speaking and presenting. I demonstrate breathing and centering exercises, and offer tips for dynamic delivery. Check it out!

Even if you aren't especially interested in telling Biblical stories, I think you will find Casey's overall approach instructive. Because when we use a "story learning" model for internalizing important messages, they really stick! When we are truly inside our stories, sharing them, we use our words, our bodies, our energy to connect. We are not judging, we are doing. And we can clearly communicate what is on our minds--and in our hearts.

Happy Holidays to you and yours.
See you in 2015!

Short and sweet

Last Friday I began my holiday baking (first up...rugelach!) while enjoying the annual broadcast of the Ig Nobel Prize Awards on NPR's Science Friday. These two activities signal to me the beginning of the Christmas season! The Igs (as they are known to their aficionados) are given every year by the Annals of Improbable Research, a magazine whose stated goal is to publish "research that makes people LAUGH then THINK." I always learn fun new facts, and get a few good laughs out of Black Friday's hour-long reprise. Last year I blogged about the ceremony's ingenious use of a young girl by the name of Miss Sweetie Poo who calls the speakers out when they wander "in the weeds."

This year I was struck by another element of the Igs that we could do well to incorporate into our thinking--their 24/7 Lectures. When we prepare speeches, comments, or meeting recaps for any kind of presentation, we could benefit from remembering the rules: "Each 24/7 Lecturer explains their topic twice: First, a complete, technical description in 24 seconds. Then, a clear summary that anyone can understand in 7 words" (italics mine).

It sure would take a bit of doing, but what if we set that goal for ourselves? What if we could boil down our main talking points to a succinct 24-second explanation? And then, provide a short, clear summary? I am sure such a thought exercise would clarify our thinking, maybe even direct us to what we can cut out of our presentations that is unnecessary or obfuscatory.

Succinct messaging takes time; well worth it.
7 words!

Giving Thanks for NaNoWriMo

As Thanksgiving week rolls around I am thinking of the many things I am thankful for this year. Many are the wonderful people I have in my life and experiences I share with them. But there is also something new: this year, for the first time, I am participating in NaNoWriMo and am very thankful to Chris Baty for starting National Novel Writing Month in 1999. It grew from 21 friends who thought being novelists would help them get dates to a non-profit that last year propelled 310,095 writers world-wide to create novels. Of  50,000 words. In a month. Since I am a playwright, my "novel" uses fewer lengthy descriptions, so 50,000 seems like a lot. But I will edit out all the superfluous bits when I am done and hopefully something will take shape!

I have written plays before, but most of them had built-in deadlines. This one has been waiting months - no, years - to be written. And I just could not get it started. Until NaNo. Once you commit to doing the month of writing, you get online support in the form of pep talks from successful authors, writing prompts, online writing sprints, and most of all, a sense of community. My region, Northern Virginia, has 8,174 members, many of whom have met up at coffee shops and libraries to write, bond and offer encouragement.

Writing is, by nature, a very solitary pursuit. It has been a great comfort this month to see so many fellow Nanites writing on the Forums or on the regional Facebook page about their own frustration at staring at the blank computer screen, or feeling they have run out of things to say, or knowing - absolutely- that everything they have written is rubbish! And to see others rallying round with words of encouragement. "Just keep writing," they say, "Edit later. Get it all out." Of course having a huge number of words to write every single day means that you can't do much editing or self-censoring as you go along. I have found that very liberating!

Support and accountability are things we all need. Creative artists who toil at their computers and live in their imaginations often don't much of either. Sometimes you just need a teensy bit of incentive to get it all out and put it all down. Later you will revise and revise and revise, and share those versions with your writing circle for them to critique. But first you need something to revise!

I have about 6,000 words to go and know I will finish. Might do it next year, as well. Think about joining me. We could be writing buddies! What's the worst thing that can happen? You write 50,000 words; some of then have to be good!

What's cookin'?

"Why do I need a coach to learn how to speak in public? I have been talking almost my whole life." To answer this question I often use a cooking analogy: Early in life you learn what sounds to make, and later what words to use to get what you need. Survival communications. Some people never need to learn more. But if you find yourself pursuing a career where "excellent oral communications" are required, or just want to make yourself heard above life's everyday static, you will need to work harder at it. That's where expert advice comes in, whether it is reading books or articles, watching webinars, or working with a communications coach. Each level of learning brings you closer to development of your own solid speaking technique.

So with cooking. Most of us learn survival cooking skills fairly early in life: scrambled eggs, mac 'n cheese, pb & j. But at some point we need to step up our game--to impress someone, to rescue ourselves from boredom, to cut down on take-out and restaurant expenses. And so we read a cookbook and watch some cooking shows. Those of us who really want or need to excel study with the experts.

Every Saturday one of my delights is listening to The Splendid Table, a radio show from American Public Media, hosted by cooking expert and food journalist Lynne Rosetto Kasper. Lynne has a great way of making absolutely every dish she describes on the show sound mouth-wateringly delicious. And "doable." When she broadcasts interviews with guests, she has them break down complicated recipes and explain the culinary process, demystifying cuisine that might seem complicated. Even an elaborate Tourbot soufleé . She also gives a lot of really solid cooking advice to listeners who call in.

Saturday before last a caller said he wanted to become a better cook. He had trouble following recipes, and wanted some hints on other ways to improve. Lynne urged him to step away from the individual recipes, and really understand the underlying technique used in creating the dish. "Don't learn recipes, learn technique," she said. "You are more in control when you know the how and the why of what you are doing."

Back to my analogy: I work with clients to discover techniques that work for each of them. While these are similar, they vary from person to person. Much as cooking will vary according to pans used, oven temperature, quality of ingredients, etc. But when you break everything down and come to an understanding of how things work, you are able to develop a solid technique. Which you can then apply to many different situations. For example, once you have mastered a basic bechamel sauce, you can make dozens of French and Italian sauces. Once you know how to embody and embrace your own authentic presence, you have the ability to speak successfully anywhere, any time!

And doesn't that sound delicious?

Solving the maze

Patterns. They are all around us. They are a big part of our everyday   lives. We use them as as organizing principles, to provide structure.  Patterns help us know where we are in our journey and show us where we  fit in. Patterns place us in  the now of the framework of our lives and the lives of those around us.

But this is a paradox, because when we are inside the pattern, we cannot really see where we are. Then patterns become  puzzles we have to figure out, which is why walking through a maze for  the first time can be so destabilizing and disorienting. Little wonder,  then, that books and movies use mazes to  symbolize terrifying journeys  into the unknown! I think "maze" and see  Jack Nicholson in The Shining chasing   Shelley Duvall and Danny Lloyd. Or I anticipate the  tragedy awaiting  Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter inside the Triwizard  Tournament Maze in  Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

Every time we get up to speak, we find ourselves in that very  place--experiencing  the journey, telling our story, choosing where to  turn so we can follow the  path to its logical conclusion. BUT we also  need to be standing on the bridge above the  maze, seeing the pattern,  so we won't get lost by taking a wrong turn, going down a rhetorical  dead  end, or ending up somewhere other than where we planned to be. <Br>
Of  course when we practice  before we speak, we become familiar with the  best way to navigate the  maze, to solve that puzzle. And we become  comfortable ignoring those little nagging voices  that urge us to "step  off the trail, go this way, it will be a shortcut,  what can it hurt?"

But  even before the  practice session begins, we need to be mindful of the  pattern we are creating. We need to  use its structure when developing  our thesis and main  supporting points. We may be tempted to go into  great detail to  tease out an intriguing but non-essential sub point. Or  tell an  entertaining but digressive story. But that sort of detour  from the speech's  overall plan does nothing to further our argument,  and can be quite  confusing to our audience. So we need to stay on the  path in order to  reach our goal

Patterns are comforting. And mazes can be  mastered--with practice and a clear head!

photo credit: odolphie via photopin cc

Small talk vs. large talk

Autumn at Union CollegeThis past weekend I was sitting in my son's college dorm room (we were up for our first Family Weekend) when I heard two of his friends pass one another in the hall: "How was it?" "Awesome!" "That's great, dude!" Their tones of voice conveyed that they knew exactly what they were talking about, even though I hadn't a clue. Sounded like a casual conversation between buddies. But it was really a classic example of the glue of private conversation. And it is pretty much the only type of speech that is not public speaking.

Two weekends ago I was giving a talk to Fulbright scholars from abroad who are here in the U.S. for graduate and post-graduate research, teaching, and study. My focus was on public speaking and presenting. The sponsors of the event were concerned that I was spending too little time on "interpersonal communications;" they felt their visiting scholars might be having some cross-cultural communications problems with fellow students and faculty. Of course I had planned to cover this in my session. "Interpersonal communications" was, in fact, one of the bullet points on slide #2. But it was under the heading "Public Speaking" so I guess that threw them off. I am not a fan of PowerPoint, so only essential topics (and a few choice graphics) go up on my slides. And interpersonal communications was definitely on the agenda.

But I saw their point. Most people do not think of quick chats in a professor's office or study group meetings in the food court as public speaking. But they are! So are those quick exchanges with co-workers on your way to a meeting or conference calls with your best client.

Anytime you are not engaged in private conversation you are speaking publicly. You are representing whatever business/party/ethnic group/nationality you bring to the table. Be aware of that. Unless you are connected through kinship, or well-established bonds of trust (which can form relatively quickly when you are all in the same boat, as in a first year dorm), your words matter. Organized thought matters. Articulation and clarity of speech matters. People will judge you on what you say and how you say it. Even in--or maybe especially in--those small group and one-on-one encounters. So do not take these exchanges as casually as two good friends meeting in a dorm hall. Unless you know someone well enough to engage in the relationship-maintaining communication often derided as "small talk"--where non-verbals are so strong the words almost do not matter--you are speaking publicly. Breathe. Think. And speak accordingly.

Just calm down

Francisco Goya's "The Folly of Fear," National Gallery of ArtI grew up in Northeastern Ohio (in fact went to the same high school as Amber Vinson) and now live in Arlington Virginia, not far from the Pentagon. So I was closely following news reports of events as they unfolded this past week. I was not in any danger, and I was amazed how many people felt they were. This brought to mind a statement I often make to my clients and students: you can't listen when you're in panic mode.

When I say this to them in a training session I am referring to situations when they are "put on the spot" in a meeting or during Q & A following a speech. You know that feeling--when all of a sudden your adrenaline kicks in, your palms sweat, your face flushes and your words stick in your throat. Not only are you rendered inarticulate,  you become functionally hard-of-hearing as well. Fear is a powerful blocker of both incoming and outgoing messages!  

All the chatter about Ebola this past week reminded me of that state, that inability to listen because we are in too much of a panic mode to focus on what anyone is really saying. The truth of the matter is, of course, that Americans still have a far greater chance of dying from the flu this season than from Ebola, but that truth was hard to hear. It was being drowned out by the irresponsible media outlets who thrive on manufactured crises to increase their viewership/readership. And once people started to panic, they couldn't hear the voices of reason assuring them those "news" reports were bogus. Because when you stop breathing you stop listening. Think about it: have you ever really heard what someone was saying while holding your breath? I doubt it. You tense up in anticipation of BIG news (good or bad). You enter into a physiological state of altered awareness. Sometimes you hear part of the message, but not all of it, and not with all its nuance. You have doubtless noticed this when you try to deliver a message to someone who is in anticipatory panic mode. Your listener never hears the whole of what you have to say.

Yesterday's news about the quarantine in Dallas should have laid much of this fear to rest. But you know the fear-mongers will be back with another chapter. We must remember that they perform the same function as our inner voices of fear. They both stop us in our tracks when we panic. And they keep us from moving forward. Don't let that happen. Be clear-headed. Listen to what is really being said. See what is really there. And for all of our sakes--breathe!

Don't worry; it'll be good for you!

The Meeting by Man Ray, from the Smithsonian American Art Museum 

Has this ever happened to you: You are given a "golden opportunity" to join your peers and superiors in a meeting to present work with which you are very familiar--largely because it is your work or your team's work. You try your best to prepare, but it's hard because you don't get an agenda on time. You figure you will just "follow the lead" of others who attend this meeting regularly. You gather your notes and talking points. You breathe. And then you are asked to go first. No hint of where to start. No indication of what your colleagues want to know. No guidance, no direction. What do you do?

 

I have heard variations on that story from a few clients. And I tell them: It's OK to ask. Really. Instead of guessing what your focus should be in that meeting, ask: "What, specifically, would you like me to address?"; or "What are you most interested in hearing about first?" How else are you going to make the best use of everyone's time? You may not need to unpack the whole process or walk them through all the details. They may just want to know the results.

 

It's really OK  

But asking seems "awkward" for most of us. We don't want to do it for fear it will show we are out of our element, that we don't belong. That we are not "up to the challenge." Which further confuses us. Most of this stems from our bodies' instinctive response to the physiological stress of being in the Speaker's Bubble. You know the feeling: you are in an alternate reality, in the spotlight, under the microscope.

 

The fact is, no one knows it all. And remember, you are at that meeting in the first place because you likely know more about your topic than anyone else. Last week I blogged about how important it is to trust yourself when put on the spot. Extend that trust to this situation. Asking questions when you need clarification or guidance is certainly preferable to muddling around in the weeds until you get to what people really want to know. A secure person is fine with admitting she does not know where to begin her explanation, that she needs to know just which questions her listeners want answered. That is not an insurmountable obstacle.  

 

Ask any successful leader: knowing all the answers is not the key to leadership; knowing the right questions to ask is. So, when you are put on the spot, unsure of where to start, think like a leader. No one has all the answers all the time. But ask the right questions and you'll be well on your way.

 

Trust issues

One of my clients occupies a senior management position, is an expert in her field, and really knows her stuff. But she confided in me that she had trouble answering questions in meetings with her peers and those at the top of her organization.

She is not alone. Many people have difficulty when put "on the spot" around the conference table or in the boardroom. I call it the "hot seat effect" and it is one of the manifestations of being trapped in the Speaker's Bubble (see my explanation of that peculiar place here). I work with clients to climb out of that trap by practicing breathing to stay centered and focused. The insidious thing about the hot seat, though, is how unexpectedly you find yourself on it. You're not standing under lights at a podium in front of a group of thousands, for heaven's sake; you're doing something fairly routine. Sitting in a chair. Having a meeting. But when the stakes are high (i.e. Very Important People listening to your every word), the heat is on.

The way to turn it off is to slow your heart rate by breathing fully and deeply. By doing so, you re-energize while you decrease your level of nervousness. The added bonus is that you regain your focus, and with it, your confident posture and vocal tone. You have the tools to climb the mountain.

My client, however, was worried that, though she could regain her composure, she had lost her way. Her destination seemed oddly distant on her mental map. She "went off on a tangent" while answering questions. She did give definite answers, eventually. But she feared her roundabout way of arriving at them would diminish her in others' eyes. Her misgivings were well-founded: confusing or long-winded answers can make those aorund you question your authority.

I have worked with her for a while now, and knew exactly what the trouble was. I prescribed a simple mental shift: she needs to trust herself. Trust her knowledge. Trust her clear, simple answer. Because the people she speaks to trust her. They regard her as the expert in her field. So her desire to explain her answers, to make a strong case for them, is simply unnecessary. Her straightforward opinion is all that is needed. I reiterated: "Trust yourself. Your peers respect your judgement, your expert opinion, your guidance. If they need you to back up your pronouncements, they will ask. . . " But I doubt it. When she trusts herself and gives a clear answer, they will be more than satisfied.

Trust yourself: simple to say; hard to do. Get started!

Check out the actors' playbook

NYC cast of "Becoming Calvin"--Spetember 21, 2104This past weekend I had the pleasure of seeing and hearing my play Becoming Calvin performed in a staged reading by some very talented actors in New York. We were not quite on Broadway, but almost, in a lovely church space just off of Times Square. Some of the actors have been with this play from its very first readings, and performed in its 2012 run in Washington, D.C.  But others, mostly NYC-based actors, heard the script aloud for the first time on Friday night. I reprised my 2012 role as director, and worked through each scene briefly. By Sunday afternoon the cast was ready to present it. They were already starting to inhabit their characters, and the play came alive. As a playwright, it was quite a gift to see and hear the script work while being read by new voices!

When I wasn't in rehearsal (which was most of the weekend) I had chance to catch up with friends who have interesting jobs in New York working with some Very Important People. One of my them was telling me about a boss who had a reputation for being a poor public speaker. This boss speaks a lot, in very high profile situations. "What makes her so appalling?" I asked. It seems she reads what has been prepared (in her case, by a speechwriter), then, feeling her point has not been made sufficiently, goes on to extemporaneously restate everything she has said in the speech. So of course her speeches usually run twice as long as they should. And her audience is always either bored or confused! Certainly not the desired outcome.

In my speaker-training business, I hear variations on this complaint all the time. Often I am brought in to help clients climb out of this trap. I advise them to follow my actors' example and trust the text. Actors learn very early on that their job is to interpret the work of the writer, to clarify it, share the underlying meaning with the audience. They never, for example, would stop a scene to explain to the audience what just happened. Their job is to embody the playwright's vision so clearly that the audience experiences it, too. The only way they can do this is to start with the assumption that the text is their primary tool. 

Speakers need to take a page from my actors' playbook and trust the text. Even if a speaker prefers to be less scripted, looser, more like a stand-up comedian, preparation is key (see my post Giving Thanks for Sarah Silverman. Comedians have a rhythm to their sets, have rehearsed, have chosen what to do when. They gifted ones make it seem "spontaneous"--just liked gifted actors--but very little has been left to chance.

If you are going to be speaking, the time to revise a text or script (to simplify it, or put it in your own words) is not at the moment of performance or presentation. That is work done well before you share your message with the audience. You need to make sure your text says what you want it to, yes, but before you step up to deliver it. Then, trust your text, let its message filter though you, and let the audience be a part of that experience. Otherwise, why are you there? You'd be better off just passing out a copy of your speech and freeing your captives.

One step and before you know it . . .

Students on the march; Union College Class of 2018!I have just come back from my final first-year college-drop-off and I am experiencing mixed emotions. There is a feeling of accomplishment (not to mention relief!) at seeing your child set off on the road to independence, and yet. . . . As the Dean of Students said to the Class of 2018 when he welcomed them (just before we were instructed to say final good byes), "you might see your parents shedding a few tears, but it's not for you; it's because they are wondering where the time went!"

Fortunately, I can dive into work this week. I am lucky to have work that I love: coaching my clients gives me the opportunity to be always learning, thinking about something I have never thought about before, or looking at the world from an entirely new perspective. My clients are smart people; they talk about complicated, interesting things.

My job is to help them talk about these complex things in a way that helps others understand. Helps their listeners not just kinda sorta "get it,'' but understand it so well that true communication can happen, decisions can be made, problems solved, action taken.

As I reflect on the process I use to guide them, it strikes me as similar to helping my son learn how to walk. His first tentative step led to a surer one; it soon became a run. After that it seemed no time at all till he became a sure-footed midfielder, then a fast base-runner. Yesterday he marched off to college. Everything started with that first, wobbly step.

My clients have mastered the steps necessary to rise to where they are. But they are all self-aware people who want to improve their communications, work for clarity, find that perfect metaphor or example to drive their meaning home. And they know, no matter how expert they are--or maybe in fact because they are so expert--they sometimes have to go back to basics to get started on the right foot.

We work on breaking down elaborate, possibly perplexing, explanations, uncluttering overly detailed power points. Saying more with far fewer words (and conveniently allowing more time for Q & A!). It is wonderful to hear about their successful outcomes. But I know beforehand they will succeed, because I can see how committed they are. They really dig in and explore as we search for creative, original (less pro forma, less expected) ways to make their messages soar. The "fixes" might seem minor to others, but for the author-presenters, even subtle perspective shifts and small tweaks can add up to a big improvement. 

And when the times comes to deliver, they're off and running--enjoying the experience as much as a child running on a beach on a warm summer day. Or a college student marching toward his future!

Perchance to dream and so much more

I am preparing to send my youngest off to college in the next few days. As I help him buy, sort and pack, I am trying to decide what essential tips for collegiate (and lifelong) success to share. Of course, I won't spring anything on him that I haven't told him before. He will have far too many "new" things to process for me to add one more. But of all the motherly wisdom I have shared over the years, what should I put at the top of my list?

I think it will be "Get Some Sleep." He has certainly been doing that already (a lot!) this summer, so it shouldn't be too hard. Or will it? I remember, dimly, the excitement of those first weeks of living away from home for the first time, and wanting to be everywhere doing everything with everyone, even into the wee hours. Such a widespread feeling has its own acronym now: FOMO, for Fear Of Missing Out.

But sleep is a neccesary restorative--a time to dream, as well as a time to consolidate memories. And a recent article published in Scientific American cites fascinating new research (originally published July 16 in Psychological Science) that indicates lack of sleep is associated with false memories: "when researchers compared the memory of people who'd had a good night's sleep with the memory of those who hadn't slept at all, they found that, under certain conditions, sleep-deprived individuals mix fact with imagination, embellish events and even "remember" things that never actually happened."

Throughout high school I encouraged my son to get a good night's sleep as a relatively easy strategy for doing well on upcoming tests. But now, as he heads off on his own adventure, I think the clear-headedness that comes only from being fully rested will benefit more than just his academic life. With new friendships being built, bonds of trust being tested, and his own evolving idea of "self"  called into question, he will need sound judgment. His reasoning will need to be based on accurate information--true, accurate memories, not false ones.

It's not just college students who could use that reminder! As we bid a fond adieu to the relaxing days of summer, let's all take some of its equilibrium with us as we gear up for the "fall frenzy." The days are getting shorter, after all. Why not take nature's cue and turn in a bit earlier?

It's summer; slow down!

Here is another evergreen blog I thought I'd repost for your "summer review":

My clients come to me for a variety of reasons. Some are content experts who do a lot of speaking, but are always seeking to improve. Others are running for office and engaging in high stakes, very public communication from dawn till well after dusk. Still others want to get ahead professionally, and know they need to step up their speaking in all situations - around the conference table, with clients, at networking events,  etc. They come to me for different reasons, but they express many of the same concerns.

One I hear most often is, "I want to be able to think on my feet" or "I need to learn how to speak off the cuff." Clients are a bit dismayed when I tell them I have no magic wand to immediately make them extemporaneous geniuses. I do have strategies that I share, which vary according to client and situation. But one general rule I tell everyone  - slow down! The benefit of this is two-fold: it gives you time to think about what you are saying before you say it (which, we can all agree, is a prerequisite for sounding intelligent), and it helps you avoid those filler words which at best are a minor annoyance to the listener, and at worst make you seem disorganized and unfocussed.

Try slowing down today; what have you got to lose? Just a few "um"s, " you know"s, and(cringe) "like"s that you and your listener will not miss at all!

Summer boring (and some are not!)

As I gear down and get ready to enjoy a relaxing vacation, I thought I'd take a page from the advice column playbook and share a blog from my archives. This is an updated version of a blog I wrote on December 9, 2011. I am still giving this advice, so I know the probelm has not gone away. If anything, it seems to have gotten worse...

In An Actor Prepares, Constantin Stanislavsky (the father of modern acting) demanded that actors - to truly be good at their craft - "cut 90 per cent."

Of course I drill this into the heads of my acting students. And I offer similar advice to my speaking clients. As content experts, we often have the urge to tell everything we know about our subject, assuming the world is as interested in it as we are. Even if our conversation partners are incredibly captivated by what we do, unless they are colleagues engaged in the same line of inquiry/practice at the same level of expertise, they need it broken down for them. In easily-digestible, bite-sized pieces. They can't know all that we know and so we need to meet them at their level. If we don't, we fall into the trap of droning, monologuing, and otherwise boring or confusing people who, through no fault of their own, have become our unwitting "audience." And how do they respond? Can you say, "Excuse me while I find the guacamole?"

So as you gather around the grill, at the picnic table by the pool, or wherever you relax this summer, don't be the bore at the party. If someone asks you what you're up to professionally, give them the Twitter version - short, sweet, somewhat intriguing. If you tantalize them (and if they are interested in the subject), they might ask follow-up questions. Or not. If they have no interest in your subject matter, at least you found out in a mercifully short time, and can change the subject--or go connect with someone else. 

This advice applies once you return to work, too. It is a good rule of thumb to follow whenever you want to cultivate a relationship. As that old rascal P.T. Barnum said: "always leave 'em wanting more"!

Canned vs. prepared?

During the Q & A following a presentation I gave last week, I was asked a question that I always have trouble answering with a straight face. "How can I avoid sounding "canned?" And when I ask what that means, I am told "I don't want to be over-rehearsed, then I will seem stale." This, of course, is after I have spent an hour or more sharing my tips and techniques for dynamic speaking. An hour in which my audience has heard me say, repeatedly, that two things they must do to be better speakers and presenters are Prepare and Practice.

It only makes sense that you need to figure out what you are going to say, and also practice how you are going to say it, right? As an actor, I am used to doing a lot of practicing (we call it rehearsal). And most actors will tell you they never have sufficient time for rehearsal. Our process is a lot more in-depth than what speakers go through, of course. Speakers are delivering speeches that they have likely written, in their own voices. Actors use the playwright's words and speak in the character's voice. But in the beginning, the actor's relationship to his script is very similar to the speaker's relationship to her text. Know what you are saying, what your intention is, be aware of subtext is (i.e message beneath your words/between the lines), be sure you can pronounce all the words/names, etc. Then practice enough so you don't have to read or stay glued to your text. And when you have internalized the message, you are ready to increase the dynamism of delivery with more energy, more vocal variety, better pacing. The more you know your text, the more expressively you can convey your meaning. And the more expressively you do that, the more vibrant you will be. Fresh, never "stale." So you can see why it is hard for me not to laugh when someone who needs to do a speech tells me he is afraid of being over-prepared and sounding "canned."

The fact is there is no such thing as being too prepared. 

Every time you speak in public, in a formal speech setting or around the boardroom table, you have an opportunity to prove your expertise, underscore your credibility, convey your dynamic leadership. Why would anyone leave that up to chance? "winging it," "speaking off the cuff" and other techniques that rely on the inspiration of the moment may work for you some of the time (I have observed, unscientifically, that this figure hovers around 25%).  Why chance it the rest of the time? 

Think about it: the last time someone really knew her stuff, did you think she was "canned?" Or prepared to perfection?

You can't play the game if you don't know the rules

Some things never change. No matter how often parents, coaches, teachers, and consultants (those tasked with helping you learn or master a skill)  swear to the contrary, some people will always insist that they don't need to play by the rules. Recently I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing yet another example of this. There was a speaker. And she may have thought it was fine to speak "from the heart," or "off the cuff." But I watched as her audience coughed, squirmed, and pulled out their cellphones. She was oblivious. And she completely lost them. This caused a communications snafu that was entirely avoidable. Fortunately, in this instance, the damage inflicted will not be lasting, nor is it very serious. But damage was done, nonetheless, to the speaker's credibility, which may affect her leadership standing going forward.

Understanding how to communicate to an audience is not rocket science. Yet I am constantly baffled by otherwise intelligent people who seem to have absolutely zero clue about how to be good speakers. Which is surprising, because it is not a complicated process. The rules for effective speaking are easier to master than the rules of baseball. You need to know your subject matter, know your audience, and know how best to get your message across to them.

All of this varies depending on the specifics of your situation, of course, but a couple of standard rules always apply, whether you are giving "a few remarks" at an event or making a formal speech:

  • Always structure your comments, to include a beginning (intro), middle (main points--no more than four, but three is preferred!), and end (wrap-up). You may be a non-linear thinker, but unless your audience is made up wholly of mind-readers, you'd do well to stick to the formula that passes for the lingua franca of organized speech.
  • Always plan ahead, so you have organized your thoughts (see above).
  • Always stick to your preparation. The biggest consequence of people going "off script" is that they dig themselves into verbal holes they then need to spend valuable time getting out of. And they lose the attention of their audience--resulting in a hit to their credibility. As I saw so clearly in this most recent instance.

Don't be the speaker who squanders the goodwill of your listeners by performing a "brain dump" that is confusing and hard to follow. Plan ahead. Stick to your game plan. Get to the point--then get off the field.

As Tommy Lasorda said, “There are three types of baseball players: those who make it happen, those who watch it happen, and those who wonder what happens.” Be the one who makes it happen.

And you thought beginning was hard . . .

Every summer I take a respite from coaching and consulting and go back to camp. Well, not camp, really: it's Discover the World of Communications, a summer program at American University. Sarah Menke-Fish, visionary Professor of Communications, created this program for driven, directed high school students 15 years ago. And I have been lucky to be a part of the DWC family for nine years now.

The past two weeks I have been working with DWCers in my Speaking for Impact class. They are smart kids, from some of the area's best schools, so it isn't Intro to Public Speaking. Most have made many speeches, and know they will make more in the careers they hope to have. However, I am struck by how often I need to point out that their speeches don't really have endings. And that's not just generational; many of my older clients have difficulty ending their speeches and presentations as well. (A good example of "what not to do" can be found at the end of Ellen DeGeneres' funny yet poignant 2009 Tulane commencement speech. But be warned: she is a comedian with impeccable timing. A less gifted person would never get by with a conclusion that concludes the conclusion.)

Just as you need a "hook" to engage the listeners, to get them interested in your topic or to pique their curiosity about how you will handle your subject matter, you also need a "coda" at the end to wrap everything up. Common methods for doing this include referring to the story you used in your hook, answering the pointed question you asked in the beginning, or citing the intriguing quotation you opened with. Other "codas" can be structured using rhetorical devices. I had a student this week end her "Don't Text While Driving" speech with a wonderful use of repetition: three sentences that started with "Be the one who...." It's a classic technique, but it works.

Ending your speech definitively may seem like a no-brainer, but it is surprising how many speakers sputter to a close, as if they have run out of steam (or time). They don't end with a strong finish and that is too bad. Your closing is another opportunity to make your point. Even if you have lost your listeners somewhere along the way, your message will be remembered if it is reinforced by the last words your audience hears. Make them count!