I deeply admire those of you who make a living basically by getting up and giving oral presentations every day. I can’t think of much I despise more than having to get up in front of a group of people and talk. Maybe getting up in front of a group of people and singing and dancing, but no job I’ve ever had as ever required me to do such a thing.
I just got back from a trip that involved giving a presentation to four different groups of people, and I’m feeling like I need about a week to recover. I will admit I’ve come a long way since my first semester of college when I got up in my Spanish 101 class to give a presentation and literally froze, thus inspiring the sort of pity no one wants to inspire in their classmates the first semester of college. I even have to admit that I often get praised for my presentations these days (as I did after these four), thus making me one of those people I hate, who complain about how bad they are at something and then demonstrate how splendidly they can do that thing. But I think I can explain why people praise me. It’s because I’m so deathly afraid of looking out at the audience and finding most of them sleeping that I’ve learned to weave the art of personal storytelling into my presentations, a talent I learned from Bob, who does a splendid job of this, much better than I could ever do. People don’t expect it, so it doesn’t matter if your delivery is terrible, as mine so often is; if it’s unexpected, it will keep them from being too bored, and then they’ll tell you your presentation was good.
The thing is, though, if you pay attention to me, you can tell how nervous I actually am. There are those who will tell you they hate giving oral presentations, that they’re always so nervous, and then they get up and do it as if they were doing something as natural as strolling through a park on a sunny day. Where’s the nervous fidgeting? The tucking of nonexistent stray hairs behind the ears? The obviously shaking hands as they hold up something to demonstrate? Where’s the tripping up over such extremely difficult words as “the?” I see it nowhere in evidence. And sure, they might tell you they have butterflies in their stomachs, but what’s the big deal about nice little butterflies gently fluttering their wings? I’d find that far preferable to the baby pterosaur who’s so obviously trying to hatch itself out of my stomach.
And then there’s the dry mouth. If I’m not tripping over the pronunciation of “the,” my tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth so firmly, I’m sure all that’s going to come out is a few grunts. That would be even worse than a reenactment of the frozen Spanish 101 student. I could hear it going down in the history of the company, “Remember that time when that woman, what was her name? Emily or something? She stood up in front of us, sounding like a pig?” I’m drinking all the water in the pitcher that’s been provided and wondering how others also manage to make that seem so effortless. I mean, people stand up at podiums and casually incorporate sips of water into what they’re saying, as if their notes say, “pause for sip of water,” and it flows beautifully, not looking the least bit out of place. I’m busy looking down at my notes and wondering, “Can I possibly make it through these next ten pages of notes without anymore water, and if not, where can I fit in a quick sip?” all the while praying my shaking hands don’t end up spilling the water all over those notes. Finally, I quickly reach for the glass in desperation, unable to keep from noting everyone’s expectant faces during this unwanted interruption.
I suppose, as some would ask, yes, it does get easier with time and with practice, but I'm not sure it's actually getting easier. I think what’s really going on is an experience similar to the way I’ve heard women with children describe childbirth. After each one of these painful events, as time goes on, I completely forget the pain. I’m lulled by the joy my job provides me about 85% of the time. And just like the mother who decides she really wants to have another baby, seeming to have a complete memory block when it comes to the fact she screamed throughout her last labor that she was never going to do this again, once I’ve forgotten, I will find myself doing things like volunteering to run entire summits on my area of expertise. Then again, maybe it has nothing to do with a memory lapse similar to a mother’s and more to do with drinking a very potent margarita in Fort Worth, TX. Oh well, whatever it is, for the time being, I can collapse and enjoy my job until the labor pains come again.
9 comments:
Ah ,the tucking of the imaginary hairs and the shaking of the hands...I know both well. The weird thing is I used to act and when I acted I would get nervous before going on stage but would be FINE once on, but I have never been comfortable giving presentations. It's much more difficult, for some reason!
I would be quite happy not to have to lecture but I've gotten fairly hardened to it. I tend to feel nervous and unsettled for half an hour before- sometimes more if I'm not well prepared- but once I've started my natural bossiness kicks in and it seems very natural that people should be sitting listening to me and taking notes. You are right about the story telling approach working well in terms of holding peoples attention. I'm quite chatty in my style and I try and pace what I am doing carefully so that the more complex concepts are interspersed with lighter material. I don't think I'll ever grow to love it though.
For me, whether I'm nervous or not depends on the kind of presentation. I've gotten used to teaching, so getting up in front of a classroom is fine -- UNLESS I'm being observed by the department chair or someone equally scary, and then I'm terrified. And put me in front of a group of peers, and I'll be terrified. I'm one of those people who appears calm -- I don't think I betray nervousness, but boy am I feeling it!
Emily, from what I've seen, you'd never know you had issues with oral presenations, you seem like a self-confident pro. When I used to have to speak in front of your colleagues, however, I'd develop a soap opera-like multiple personality disorder and not remember anything I said the minute it came out of my mouth.
It is probably a bit easier to get in front of people when you are in charge of their grades, but it still makes me feel a little anxious in the minutes leading up to the class. I have made my nervous tics into a joke--every time I trip over a chair as I'm pacing around, I act as if I'm doing it for comic effect, even though I'm just a nervous and clumsy idiot.
I think anyone who is good at giving presentations suffers from stage fright. I know I do, and I've had loads and loads of experience, and it's probably one of the things I do best. You need that bit of adrenalin to put in a good performance. But I'd give it up tomorrow for a quiet life if I could. I never touch water, because I know I'd spill it all over my notes if I did!
My take on stage nervousness it to understand that most audiences are very benevolent. Unless I am standing in front of a (court or exam) jury --and then I am a nervous wreck for obvious reasons--, people in the crowd are generally not there to judge me personally. There is no reason why they should be any meaner to me as I would be to any of them if they were standing in my place. For all I know, they could all be good friends.
And even if I am naive, thinking this way makes things much easier, QED.
One of the best things about blogging is discovering you're not alone. I'm beginning to think now that nobody likes to give oral presentations.
Court, I thought your acting experience would keep you immune, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe because when you're acting, you get to be someone else?
Ms Tea, I'm going to tell my inner natural bossiness to quit skulking around in the corners next time I have to do this and to help me out.
Dorr, well I'll note that when the president of the company sat in, I was in worse shape than during others, and the only thing worse is having family members in the audience.
Danny, is "Cool Cucumber" one of your multiple personalities? That's who I saw when you were in front of the gang, not to mention the one who made everyone laugh the most. But I have to say, my colleagues, all being so extraordinarily brilliant, are a very intimidating bunch.
Hobs, I'm sure the students don't have a clue.
Litlove, yes, Bob tells me that the adrenalin is a good thing, and that even he, who's one of those people who claims he's nervous and then has loads of people coming up afterwards and requesting he come present/speak for them, needs it in order to do well.
Mandarine, one of these days, maybe I'll learn a thing or two from you, and my philosophies will change, and life will become so much easier.
Ah, I wish I could have the attitude that Mandarine has. Mine is probably not very healthy: I psych myself up by thinking "I'm the expert" & "I'm good at presentations", to bolster my confidence. Maybe this is like the way some coaches will encourage their players before a game -- to imagine winning. Of course, if something I've planned doesn't go quite right -- I can't get the projector to work for instance, or it appears that someone in the audience doesn't give a bit about my talk -- then I feel that foundation of confidence crumble as if built on sand. Even if not obvious to some, I know that I don't do as well.
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