Shortchanged by shortcuts

I know my habits are often out of fashion. I am not instant-this or quick-that. And I have never striven to "fail fast." No, my approach to getting things done is more along the lines of "If something is worth doing, it's worth doing well," and "Slow and steady wins the race."  So I applauded a story on NPR this weekend giving students a tip for better learning: take your notes by hand rather than typing on a tablet or laptop. The story had a familiar ring to it;  I looked it up and recalled reading the article two years ago when it was published in the journal Psychological Science. But the conclusions still stand, and in the period since the science has been done, I am sure thousands of students have migrated from pen-and-paper note-taking to typing. The students who still engage in the former, however, are learning more.  Pamela Mueller, one of the researchers, explained it this way in the NPR story, "When people type their notes, they have this tendency to try to take verbatim notes and write down as much of the lecture as they can. The students who were taking longhand notes in our studies were forced to be more selective — because you can't write as fast as you can type. And that extra processing of the material that they were doing benefited them."

Another article that vindicated my old-school way of doing things appeared in  Sunday's New York Times, "Sorry, You Can't Speed Read."  I have always been a fairly fast reader, but never for a second desired to become a lightening-fast one, even though many people have said it has increased their productivity. In this article Jeffrey M. Zacks and Rebecca Treiman conclude that in mastering the technique used in speed-reading (gathering lots of visual information quickly), language comprehension suffers. I relish losing myself in a good story, or teasing out the strands of an author's argument, so I don't like to rush. But if I do speed through the last two pages of a chapter--if I am keeping someone waiting, for example--I have to go back and reread them. Why do I even bother? As Zacks and Treiman note in their op-ed, "If you want to improve your reading speed, your best bet — as old-fashioned as it sounds — is to read a wide variety of written material and to expand your vocabulary."

Old-fashioned. Yep. That's why I also insist my clients practice their speeches for best results. More than once or twice. In an insta-world where easy gratification all too often comes at the speed of light (or pressing of a button), there are some processes where short cuts just don't cut it. Like fast fashion or disposable decor, shortcuts to effective communication result in messaging that is "here today, gone tomorrow." If you want anything to stick--lessons learned, books read, or speeches delivered--you just have to put in the time.

Illustration: "Sea Tortoises Coming Ashore by Night" by Charles Livingston Bull,
courtesy Library of Congress

Seriously not a circus

For many of us who live in metro Washington, politics is a theme that runs through our daily lives. As a communications professional, I have coached people seeking elected office and those who lobby them when they win. And I know that the folks who "run Washington" are not a unique breed of power-crazed maniacs. They are pretty normal people, as variable as the rest of us. Perhaps a few let their lust for power interfere with their better judgement, but the vast majority are not Frank Underwood.

But when I look at the current presidential race, I am dumbstruck by the enormous exhibition of ego that is Donald Trump. When I lived in New York in the '80's, I enjoyed following his exploits in Spy magazine. I thought he was yesterday's news. How wrong I was! He has proven to be a celebrity master of reinvention to rival the Material Girl herself.

When people ask my professional opinion, I tell them Trump is a terrible communicator. That's usually no surprise. But if they want details I point out how he deviates from accepted guidelines for good speaking: he is not prepared; he does not engage in active listening; he does provoke for the sake of provocation; he has little respect for his audience. He fails completely at connecting with objective reporters and unsycophantic interviewers. But—I hate to admit it—Trump is highly successful at one thing: when it comes to his supporters, he knows his audience! He has a showman's instinct for giving them what they want, and he throws them red meat with wild abandon. He has built a successful campaign by "playing to the cheap seats," as we say in show-biz. He was the joke of summer who turned into the Great American Reality Star, and his campaign has filled a unique niche in this season's entertainment schedule. 

In a couple of months I will be teaching "Speaking for Impact" to high school students as part of Discover the World of Communication at American University. I know as soon as I mention the 2016 election, Trump's name will come up. I will point out the numerous ways Trump fell short of looking and sounding like a leader. But I also will welcome the opportunity to segue from discussing the ethics of public speaking to a larger examination of civic responsibility. Though the specter of Trump in the White House is diminishing daily, he leaves us with a powerful, teachable moment. And a warning of what can happen when people stop paying attention and sit back to enjoy the show.

illustration from "The Circus Procession," published by McLoughlin Brothers, Inc., 1888
courtesy Library of Congress

Metering your thoughts

I have such wonderful clients: they are smart, self-aware people. They know what they know—many are experts in their field—but they are also clear-eyed enough to know what they don't know.  And when they know they are not speaking or presenting as well as they should, they come to me. I help them improve their communications skills so they can clearly convey their (sometimes complicated, often paradigm-shifting) ideas to others.

Lately it seems a lot of my clients have the same problem: they get stuck in their heads.  I don't mean they listen to negative self-talk that holds them back. That is true of every single person I have ever coached, and I always address it by giving my clients strategies for putting that self-talk "out of mind." No, the "stuckness" I am focusing on happens when you are called upon to speak in a meeting and your thoughts come so fast it's hard to get them out coherently. All the right ideas are in there, in your mind, but there is a traffic jam as they try to take the exit ramp. 

It is frustrating, yes, to know you actually have the answers, but cannot express them with the dynamic confidence you want. It would be nice if you could just flip a switch and slow your thoughts down so they come to you in a manner that is easier to process. If you were actually in traffic, you'd find the exit ramp meter most helpful. Sadly, our minds are not that automated.

So here's the next best thing: slow down. Breathe before you begin to speak. Put a period at the end of each sentence. Complete each thought. Give yourself a little space between the idea you just verbalized and the next one. Space to breathe. Space to think. Try this until the run-on-tumbling-out-of-words becomes a series of sentences, and you will find you have slowed down your pace to a tempo you can control. Then you'll be able to shape your responses in a way that reflects your expertise and knowledge. And an added bonus: you will have time to gauge the level of audience comprehension, so what you say will land with maximum impact and effectiveness. 

It's like your Driver's Ed teacher said: Obey the traffic signals, take your time, and you'll not only have a safer trip, you'll enjoy it more, too.

Midnight musings of grammar fans

I spent this past weekend with a couple of my favorite journalists. We stayed up late discussing politics and other current events, as well as the state of print and online journalism. Then, as Friday night became Saturday morning, our thoughts naturally turned to a topic near and dear to our hearts. . .  grammar!
 
Yes, I know. We are geeks. It is true. And, as long as I am coming clean here, we think proper sentence structure and   correct word usage are both necessary components of clear communication.

People need to understand what they are reading, especially if they read quickly. In the case of newspaper or newsletter writing, incorrect grammar slows the reader down, muddles the message, and undermines the credibility of the writer and/or news outlet. Good editors read stories with an eagle eye, a grammar handbook, their chosen stylebook, and a dictionary close at hand. If they do not (or if you do not use the same tools when self editing), your readers are forced to make sense of poor or fuzzy grammar, or guess which word you actually intended. And you may not really be saying what you mean, because even the best editor is not a mind reader. The resulting story or headline needs corrections, retractions, or some other form of cleaning up. We all have our favorite examples of this. With baseball's spring training upon us, I chuckle to recall my favorite sports headline from last season  (see photo above).

I urge my speakers to be careful about their grammar as well. Even if a speech has more latitude—say, structuring it with a few em dashes or ellipses, or using a more relaxed, even colloquial vocabulary—it still needs to adhere closely to the recognized standards. Too much "artistic license" and you lose your audience. When speaking, a listener can't flip back to find the antecedent of a given pronoun, or tease out a sentence to unearth the main clause. Sentences that are complete, short, and clear are best, whether you are at the podium or conference table. Speakers generally lack proofreaders and editors, so do the job yourself. Let your ears be that extra set of eyes as you read your speech out loud. If you find you need to read a sentence a few times to make sense of it, you probably should go back and check your grammar. And for goodness' sake, if you have any question about a word, look it up! The world certainly does not need any more amphibious pitchers.

Climb ev'ry mountain

Last week I was on vacation on the Caribbean island of Nevis. If you have heard of this island at all it is likely that you know it as the birthplace of Alexander Hamilton. But Nevis is a tropical paradise, with vast beaches and their attendant beach bars, sugar mill ruins, many fine examples of Georgian Caribbean architecture. And a volcano.

My dear husband talked me into climbing Nevis Peak, all 3,232 feet of it! It was not an easy hike. For one thing, tropical rain forest terrain can get extremely muddy, which is definitely a hindrance to what amounts to a vertical climb. For another thing, though I consider myself in good shape,  I have never really climbed a mountain. Hiked through mountains, sure. Climbed the really steep, un-restored bits of the Great Wall east of Mutianyu. But even on the Wall there was a path of some sort, and inclines of less than 50 degrees. This was something else altogether. Very shortly into the climb, I realized three things:
1) I lacked the skills needed to do this.
2) I had to trust my guide. 
3) I had to stay focused, in the moment at all times.

When it was all over my quadriceps were killing me, I was encased in mud, and my feet refused to obey. I did not say "It was fun!" like some of my fellow hikers. What I did feel was a great sense of accomplishment. I learned something new, and in the four-plus hours it took us to climb to the top (where we were in a cloud forest), then back down, I improved skills I did not even possess at the beginning. It was good to push myself outside of my comfort zone. And of course, I would have never been able to do it without my excellent guide, Reggie.

Back at our vacation villa, I took a long hot shower and tried to scrub off the bruises that I mistook for dirt--the only injuries from a slight tumble down the mountain. I realized, as the steam curled around me, easing my aching muscles, that there were many parallels to what I had just experienced and what I help my clients with on a fairly regular basis. 

Many people come to me with a self-assessment that they "are in pretty good shape" speaking-wise, but lack the requisite skill and knowledge to be an expert public speaker. Or they have done pretty well so far, but are now faced with opportunities to reach far outside their comfort zones. So I, like Reggie, need to guide them through the process, instructing them to develop skills they need along the way. They need to trust me and stay focused on what we are doing. Stop judging and stay in the moment. I offer suggestions of better ways to do things, and make corrections when necessary. That is the way we all learn new techniques and improve our skills. 

It can be hard to grow in this way if you are used to having easy success, or if you have reached a pinnacle of achievement. But just because you can hike for hours and do yoga like a twenty-year-old does not mean you know how to climb a mountain! You need to embrace new ways of seeing how a thing can be done and then do it. It is no coincidence that my most successful clients are those who keep moving forward. They don't stop their progress to get defensive, or offer rationalizations as to why they cling to bad speaking habits. They are in the moment, they have momentum, and continue to climb, reaching for the top!

Supreme communicators

I believe clear communication can solve many of life's problems. I applaud those who employ effective communications, even if I do not always agree with them. Disagreements are inevitable in life, but misunderstandings rooted in sloppy or lazy word choice can and should be avoided. This year's campaign season is providing us with many examples of unclear message transmittal. Sometimes this verges on the comic. But too often it makes us uneasy, eroding our confidence in the speakers. As the races tighten, I hope candidates will become more precise in what they are saying and how they are saying it.

I was sharing this view at a gathering of fellow consultants this past weekend, emphasizing the importance of preparing and practicing your message before you attempt to deliver it. This would eliminate many of the problems we are seeing on the campaign trail and debate stages. If you are ever in a comparable high-stakes situation, I hope you will take my advice: write out your talking points, then say them out loud. See if they make sense, if they actually say what you want them to, and if they flow. How comfortable are you with these words? If you are not 120% at ease with them, change 'em. Speaking in these circumstances is risky enough without the fear of lack-of-rehearsal stumble. I do not mean every utterance can be rehearsed--certainly in a debate you will be asked questions you have not anticipated (or at least we, the people, hope you are!). But your main points, the planks of your platform, should roll off your tongue eloquently and easily.

And if you are communicating largely through the written word, you still need to practice your text as if you are going to say it. Tell the story. Read your words and check them as you would if you were preparing to speak (see above). This weekend saw the untimely death of Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia. As the media covered various aspects of his life, his legacy, each story mentioned what a brilliant writer he was. Even those who disagreed with his opinions read them with relish. Quite simply, he caught our attention and kept us engaged, which distinguishes his writing from most legal documents. Scalia's former law clerk Brian Fitzpatrick explained his secret it in an interview on NPR: "he was such a powerful writer, and I watched him write his opinions, and I figured out one of the ways that he did it was he wrote his opinions like they were speeches. He would read them aloud as he wrote them because he wanted them to be punchy like his speech was."

Precisely.

Illustration: Jurors Listening to Counsel, Supreme Court, New City Hall, New York, after Winslow Homer, 1869
courtesy National Gallery of Art

Critical communcations

Recently I witnessed some top notch communicators at work in an unexpected place while visiting a family member in the Intensive Care Unit at Medina Hospital, a member of the Cleveland Clinic health system.

You might think this an unlikely scenario for triggering professional observations about communication. But I was seriously impressed. I found myself marveling at how clearly all the hospital personnel managed to convey detailed, complex information. Often experts have difficulty with that, striking the right "tone." Explanations are either patronizingly over-simplified or pitched at too high a level for the listener. But every piece of information we were given was followed by a query regarding our comprehension, and an offer to explain again, using different words! Unlike old-school docs who would simply restate what they had said in a louder voice, trusting all would become clear if they just shouted a bit!

Our patient had some pretty scary stuff going on, and at one point the specialist needed to bring us up to speed. But before he told us what was going to happen next, he asked us to tell him what we understood her condition to be. Then he mirrored our language, finding the right level to communicate critical information. I have not spent much time in ICUs, thank goodness, but I gather from the stories of friends and from my own research that this is not the norm.

Cleveland Clinic's Center for Excellence in Healthcare Communication trains its physicians and staff to focus on relationship centered communication, rather than the old linear model still used by many healthcare providers. And the Clinic's focus on clinician-patient communications works! As family members, we had some anxiety surrounding the medical issues we were seeing, but we never felt in the dark about them. A family that understands what is going on medically is sure to provide better support.

We all know that it is critical to deliver your message clearly in times of crisis. In words that your listeners will understand. But many people still don't take the time to step up their game. I will refrain from making the blanket statement "if critical care doctors and nurses can find the time, surely you can," but I am very glad the medical professionals who staff Medina Hospital's ICU did!

Strike the pose!

I read an article today in Slate that raised some questions about the actual science behind one of the most widely viewed TED talks ever, Amy Cuddy's "Your Body Language Shapes Who You Are." I read the article with interest because I am not a huge fan of Cuddy's. When I first viewed the talk online, I did think she had interesting observations, but her argument had some holes. And then it went viral. It started being taken as Gospel Truth, and now millions of people "understand" all about body language. As with every area of expertise, a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. I hear people say, "Oh I know all about body language. I can strike a power pose." And then they do. They reach for the skies like a superhero! I point out the impracticality of attending meetings in such a position.

When I coach my clients on presenting and public speaking, I always discuss body language. I ask: What does your stance, your posture, even the tilt of your chin say about you? Or how does it get  in the way of your message or the image you want to project? It is a complicated issue, because you are using several body parts, not to mention your breathing apparatus, as well as eye contact. (And that's just the non-verbals!)  This degree of complexity just disappears in Cuddy's talk. She simplifies the whole process, which of course makes listeners want to believe it is true. I have to give her credit for being an excellent story teller. She has been held up as a model of someone who put together a superior TED talk. Her highly personal story provides emotional stickiness, and some scientific findings back up her thesis, for good measure. 

But now the science backing up her claims has been shown to be. . .well. . . not very conclusive. And so I hope we can begin to stop swallowing her central tenet whole. A mere two minutes of engaging in an expansive pose does not, by itself, make you feel more powerful. This is too facile. Believe me, having spent the better part of my adult life around actors, it is an absolute falsehood to claim that just mimicking a posture can transform you to that degree. Not even taking on a character's posture for two hours can make you "become" the character.  Actors spend weeks of rehearsal figuring out all the things we need to do before we can even come close to any sort of transformation. Not to oversimplify my objection to Cuddy's over-simplification, but the fact is each speaking situation has a different context, and the role you play varies within each context. You need to know what to do, physically, vocally and mentally, to convey strength, focus, decisiveness, collegiality, and any number of positive "leadership qualities." 

If only it were as simple as striking a pose!

Misplaced passion

Now that it officially (finally) a Presidential Election Year, it's time to address the overdone, overheated rhetoric candidates are using in their primary races. So much shouting, exaggerating, trying to outdo each other while burnishing their party credentials. Making sure they have the boldest words and phrases to express their ideas and ideals. The result is a lot of hot air and posturing! It would be funny if it were not so worrisome. We can expect this sort of fervid oratory until the conventions at least. And if the most outrageous speaker of the bunch was not already getting so much media attention, I would dissect his bombastic style. But others have already done this, quite well, so I need not add to the discussion.

Instead, I look forward to the time after the nominations, when the great swath of "undecided" or unaffiliated voters will be wooed by the remaining candidates. The nominees will need to switch out their "passionate" language for a more reasoned, reasonable one. After all, you can't get people to listen to you, let alone support you, if they feel you are attacking them. I was happy to hear Shankar Vendatum on NPR discuss this very topic last month: "The problem is that the arguments that we make are the arguments that usually convince people who are like us. They don't speak the language of our opponents, and when you think about it, the only people you need to persuade are the ones who don't agree with you." Bottom line: if you are using language that does not mirror that of the people you are trying to convince, you won't connect with them. And you can't sway their opinion if there is no connection.

Politicians who try to correct their previous over-statements by reaching out to those with different views are derided as "flip-floppers." I suppose such distortion of intent is bound to happen in a 24/7 news cycle. Fortunately, the rest of us aren't under such scrutiny. We can--and should--always try to make our case using words and examples that can be understood by those we are speaking with. Shift your perspective a bit to reflect theirs. Avoid using words or images that set off alarm bells in their heads. This is not to say that you need to "play along" and "placate" those who oppose you, but going into a discussion with the intention of smacking down your opponent rarely ends well in any sort of grown-up, real-world interaction.

The display of passion can be effective, but only if judiciously employed. According to Google, "wise," "prudent," and "sensible" are all synonyms for "politic." That's good to remember in this year of 2016.

artwork: Political Drama (1914) by Robert Delaunay, courtesy National Gallery of Art

A little holiday toast

We are now in the midst of that unique time of year known as The Holiday Season. For many of us, there is a religious basis for these seasonal rituals. Others participate in the yearly festival of lights as a way to brighten dreary (and long) winter nights!  But there is one thing pretty much everyone does this time of year: celebrate! And with celebrations, along with food, drink, and general merriment, come the toasts.

I wrote a longer guide to toast-making in 2011, and you can read it here if you'd like. But if you're pressed for time (and who isn't this time of year?) here are quick and easy pointers for toast-making:

1) Honor your host.
2) Toast the occasion you are celebrating (gathering of friends, workplace success, completion of another year, etc.).
3) Wish everyone the best for The New Year!
4) Raise your glass and say: "a toast to ----- " and fill in the blank with #1, #2 or #3, whichever is most important to you.
5) That's it; you're finished. Stop talking and enjoy the party.

Short and to the point. Notice that you do not talk about yourself here! Because it is not about you, and everyone seems to know this until they enter "the zone" of toast-making speechifying. You've seen it happen. So be a good friend this year and lead by example. 

Happy Holidays to you and yours.
See you in 2016!

Talk less, smile more

If you, like me, have been captivated by the music of Hamilton, Lin-Manuel Miranda's Broadway hit that is breaking all kinds of records, I am sure you have been struck by the genius of Miranda's lyrics--the wit and social commentary he injects into the historic story. When I first heard self-described "trust-fund baby" Aaron Burr tell the scrappy immigrant Hamilton to "talk less, smile more," I had to laugh. Probably any woman hearing this lyric did as well. We have all heard it so many times, usually directed toward us, as it was to Hamilton, by a member of a privileged class who is objectifying us while trying to silence us. Burr claims he is giving this advice as a friendly warning to Hamilton; in Revolutionary America, saying the wrong thing at the wrong time could get you killed. But I am guessing Miranda uses this phrase at the beginning of their relationship to set up the somewhat ambivalent, ultimately fatal nature (spoiler alert!) of their long association.

Burr later uses this same phrase to describe his political strategy for wining people over without offering them much in the way of substance (and he succeeds: voters sing that he is the guy they would rather "have a beer with"). But when Hamilton's surrogate father George Washington tells him to "talk less," it is sound advice. The impetuous Hamilton has gotten himself into trouble by refusing to slow down and listen to others. Washington sees the need for Hamilton to master another skill: listening.

As a leader, Washington knew the truth about communication. It's always (at least) a two-way street. No matter how brilliant your ideas are, you cannot get your message across if you aren't willing to reach out and entertain a different viewpoint. You can't connect with people if they feel you are "talking at" them, rather than "speaking to" them.

I am not entirely sure that Alexander Hamilton learned this lesson. But as a communications coach, I believe there are many situations where talking less truly helps us make essential connections of community and communication. So, to honor our forefathers and the great American tradition of musical theatre, try it for your next big holiday gathering. You might learn more, enjoy more, connect more. And that will make you smile.

Alexander Hamilton by John Trumbull. Courtesy National Portrait Gallery

Frame and focus

My clients have been making a lot of speeches lately, and I have been helping them craft their messages. They are often sent "draft remarks" or "talking points" written by others. These documents are supposed to be for "review," but lately we have been doing wholesale rewrites. Because when you are delivering a speech, it needs to sound like you! One of "review" drafts mentioned a "favorite website of mine" that my client had never heard of. So that reference was out! If all this sounds familiar, it is; in March I wrote about why speaking in your own voice is essential for engaging your audience and maintaining credibility. 

But there is another, even more fundamental aspect of content development that I am currently emphasizing. The need to keep sentences short. When you are speaking, your message goes from your mouth to the listeners' ears. And then it vanishes! No turning back to the previous page to find the sense of that sentence. Your audience is completely dependent on the clarity of your verbal delivery. So you need to guide your listeners by shaping your message for them. Focus in on your main point. Frame it clearly and stick to it. Make yourself easily understood; use active verbs and concrete images. Don't dance around the issue using complex sentences. Don't lead your audience uphill on a path going nowhere.You will lose them if your syntax, vocabulary, and logic are too hard to follow. And if you must include a list, limit the items to three. And limit your lists.

As a playwright, I am trained to listen, and reproduce, a variety of cadences, rhythms and patterns of speech. Some of my characters speak in run-on sentences. Some speak in staccato phrases. These rhythms reflect their states of mind, including clarity of thought (or lack thereof). Trained actors know how to deliver these lines so the audience understands the sense contained in the words. But actors have the benefit of rehearsal, as well as highly developed speaking skills. If my characters "ramble," or speak in highly convoluted ways, it shows they lack focus, or are arrogant, or are terribly insecure. That is fine for a character in a play, but not the persona you want to present in a professional situation!

So keep your sentences short and to the point. Strive for clarity. Focus your message. You will be amazed how much easier it is for you to "connect" with your listeners if they can actually follow what you are saying!

Venturing into the unkown

Recently I have been prepping clients for town hall-style meetings and live Q & A sessions--the type of event listed as "A conversation with the expert. . ." or "Talking to . . ." in conference programs. One of my clients said, "I want to control the conversation, even if I am being asked the questions." But he didn't want to pull that old politicians' trick of dodging the question and answering a different one instead. Right. That is never a good idea. It may seem, at the time, like an effective way to get your talking points out, but if someone is recording the exchange you will look like an idiot repeatedly, maybe even virally, ever after.

So how do you venture out into this uncharted territory? How can you ensure successful communication of your message when you are not in charge of the agenda, but responding to questions asked? It is preferable to discuss possible lines of inquiry with your moderator or interlocutor beforehand, but it's not always possible. Is there any way, short of practicing a Vulcan mind meld, to make sure your time in the spotlight offers you an opportunity to say what you need to say?

Yes. If you have done your preparation. Many people (thankfully not my clients) seem to think this is an unnecessary step. After all, you've been asked because you are the expert, so what's to prepare? You know your stuff, so you can just wing it, right? Wrong. Respect your audience. They want a little piece of your expertise, so put yourself in their shoes. Plan ahead. Plan to tell them what you find most exciting about your subject. Or discuss its timelier elements. If you can connect your subject to recent news events, so much the better. And be sure to have your best stories and examples polished and ready to be inserted into an answer early in the hour. It's not good to walk offstage and think "I really wanted to tell them about X--but it never came up." If you need to convey a particular point think of at least three ways you can weave it into answers for other likely questions.

And don't make the mistake of assuming every event of this nature will be your own personal love-fest. The moderator may think you are the best, but you could get push back from the audience. Be sure not to over-react. It is possible that the question you hear as a clear challenge to your authority may not have been meant that way at all. Since you are sitting in the speaker's "hot seat" your defensive ears could detect a menacing tone that simply isn't there. So prepare for the skeptics and always have an answer handy for the question you dread most. A real one, not a snarky aside.

Speakers often anticipate these sorts of town halls with apprehension, fearing an hour-long voyage into terra incognita. But if you take time beforehand, you can make sure you answer their questions while introducing some of your favorite talking points. And a good time will be had by all!

Learning from the best

I attend a lot of lectures and talks, and even if I am "off the clock" I can't help but judge, at least a little. How does the speaker hold my attention? To what degree (if any) is the speaker audience-centered? How does the speaker demonstrate credibility and good will? I have sat through introductions of experts with impressive credentials, who then turn out to be boring, self-centered duds. But last weekend I attended a lecture given by a master of the craft. I was visiting Union College and was lucky enough to hear Prof. Stephen M. Berk speak. A great faculty lecture is a wonderful thing, and hearing Prof. Berk talk reminded me that we can learn a lot about public speaking from such an experience. Since faculty lecturers are also teachers, they have always have a clear intention when speaking: to share their knowledge with the students. Or, in Prof. Berk's case this past weekend, with the larger college community.

That drive, that visceral need to share what he knows with his audience, may be the biggest factor separating a good professor from a great one. All professors are subject matter experts. They all know their stuff. But the great one goes the extra distance. She breaks down her material in steps that can be easily digested, understood. She leads her listener on a journey of understanding as she tells a story, with a beginning (introduction of concepts), middle (elaboration of these concepts), and end (wrap-up of what these concepts mean to us).

Teaching is storytelling. The listeners/students learn from the story. Prof. Berk is a history professor, so his lectures are filled with small stories, all in service to the larger over-arching story of his thesis. But what if your subject matter does not obviously lend itself to telling tales? They are there, trust me. You may need to dig to find them, but it is worth the effort. As I tell my science and tech clients: the easiest way to get people to understand what you are telling them is to construct a narrative scaffold, some structure on which to hang your facts, observations and conclusions. A list of bullet points, no matter how important or ground-breaking, is not a speech. It isn't even an explanation. And it certainly isn't engaging.

I have heard Professor Berk speak three times now, and he always manages to deliver right-sized speeches that contain the perfect blend of fact, analysis, connective story, and humor. Without notes! Some of his appeal lies in his native manner of speaking. He has a wonderful Borsht Belt rhythm to his delivery that serves him well. I have even heard him tell his "signature" story three times, but it always sounds fresh. But his is a rare talent, refined over almost five decades of teaching. Most of us will never attain his level. But his example can offer us insight into what it takes to be a great speaker: the more you do it the more you know what you need to do—in terms of preparation of material, delivery, and practice—to feel comfortable standing in the front of the room. 

Illustration: "Scholars at a Lecture' by William Hogarth, courtesy National Gallery of Art

It's like talking to a mirror!

Last month I blogged about the importance of finding and using your own professional tone of voice. With everyone. All the time. I heard from several friends and colleagues that this is challenging, particularly at rigidly hierarchical workplaces. It seems they work with some people who self-identify as being "on top" who exhibit the boorish behavior of "talking down" to those below them in the org chart. And I reiterate: don't do it.

One of my friends read my blog and brought up a related topic. She said my discussion of professional tone reminded her of an old habit: emulating the tone of whoever she was talking to. I have noticed many people do this, and it is often a hard habit to break! Because it is something that we can all slip into, unconsciously, as a way of reaching out and connecting with others. This phenomenon has been studied quiet a bit: researchers call it communications accommodation theory. I looked up some academic papers to see if I could find a succinct definition, but the best one I found was in Wikipedia (and it seems pretty accurate): communication accommodation theory (CAT) was developed by Howard Giles. It posits that "when people interact they adjust their speech, their vocal patterns and their gestures, to accommodate to others". There is more to unpack here, but the gist of it is that we do this (intentionally or not) to fit in. A couple of studies that came out in psychological journals in 2010, "Alignment to Visual Speech Information" (Miller et al.), and "Imitation Improves Language Comprehension" (Adank et al.) note that this tendency often gets carried even further. They say their studies have demonstrated it is easier to understand a foreign accent if we mimic it ourselves. Of course there are disclaimers accompanying discussions of these studies: "don't try this at home!"

Research has shown we naturally gravitate to emulation or imitation of tone, even accent. But we are advised against giving into this impulse wholeheartedly. The reasoning seems to be that it could be taken as mockery of the speaker, and therefore offensive. While this may be true, it focuses too much on others' perception of you. I prefer to look at this as something you need to control because it will directly benefit you. Because when you are imitating someone else, even with noblest of intentions or instincts, you are not speaking in your own voice. You become a reflection of the person you are speaking to. For a few professionals this is desirable, and they engage in this practice intentionally. But for the rest of us? You can see that this could become one big loop of imitation, like speaking in a room full of mirrors. Which raises the question: how does a new voice get heard? How are new thoughts expressed? 

Before you know it, your very honest, well-intentioned imitation has created, literally, an echo chamber of communications. This could lead to some pretty bad outcomes—much more serious than just offending someone with a bad accent. So find your voice. And use it.

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Artwork:
Trees that Bring Wealth and Prosperity: Beauty
by Utagawa Hiroshige Utagawa Hiroshige
courtesy Arthur M. Sackler Gallery 

Getting the tone right

"Bigger Than All of Us" at the Kennedy CenterEarlier this month I was watching actors rehearse my latest play. Well, not watching so much as listening. Carefully. I needed to make sure all my characters sounded believable. And different. Because while people who live or work together may mirror each others' speech to a certain extent, most of us speak in our own unique voices. It poses quite a challenge to the playwright to create well-rounded characters who use speech--vocabulary, sentence structure, rhythm, silence--in a variety of ways. So I have become a careful listener. And very adept at hearing the differences in tones of voice.

I am often asked by clients what "tone" is best to use in the workplace. Before offering an answer, I ask for more specifics. Usually, the questioner wants to know how to speak to a superior, like a boss or supervisor, or how to address someone who may have higher status in a given situation, like a potential client.

I advise them to shift their focus and set a higher goal: to develop good habits of professional communications. Period. Find your personal professional tone, one that you can use in all circumstances. After all, you meet the same people on your way up the ladder as you do on the way down. So it's good to get in the habit of speaking with what you might think of as "office courtesy." But it won't work if it comes across as an "act" or just another business strategy. It has to be genuine and all-inclusive.

It's not as hard as you might think to cultivate such a tone. Be respectful--listen to what others have to say, make sure you are communicating clearly, and take the time to clarify. Think of it as the office variant of The Golden Rule: speak the way you would like to be spoken to. This will help take drama out of the office and put it onstage where it belongs!

Playwrights' wisdom

I have been doing a lot of writing this summer, mostly of  the creative variety. And I am excited to tell you that my latest play, Bigger Than All of Us, will have its premier reading at The Kennedy Center on Labor Day, September 7. I have been up to my eyeballs in rewrites and revisions most of the summer, and am thankful for the feedback from my very able playwriting colleagues, who have supported me every step of this process. At our last meeting we were debating whether a line conveyed the "tone" I wanted, and one of my friends said, "At some point you have to trust that your words will be able to stand alone." She meant that I won't always be in the rehearsal room to make sure the director and cast know exactly what I want to convey, and how I want to convey it.  I must make my precise intention crystal clear through the lines and the action of the script. My friend is right, of course. Though sometime we playwrights do "nudge" the interpretation a bit by including stage directions in our scripts to show how we hear a certain line in our heads ("sarcastically," "with suppressed glee," etc.). But we can't use that crutch too often, unless we want to identify ourselves as novices who have not learned to write very well.

As I have been refining my script, I have also been developing a business writing workshop. My client and I are discussing this same issue: how do you convey the proper "tone?" Of course the first rule for business writing is the same first rule for all writing (whether it is a play or a speech): know your audience. Once you have the specifics of your audience in mind, you take some of the guesswork out of finding the right tone. But then you need to do what we do as playwrights, get outside your own head and listen to your message with different ears. And make no mistake: this is important for all types of writing, not just speech writing. You need to hear how your message sounds. Because when people read what you have written, they hear it in their heads. And if there is any possibility at all that your message can be misinterpreted, you need to rewrite it. Usually this means simplifying the sentence structure, and revising your word choice to use concrete language and active verbs. Sometimes it means tweaking your organization, so you clearly lead with topic sentences and choose your supporting points more judiciously.  But you always need to "consider the audience" and how they will receive your message. If you write in a way they find oblique, opaque, or disrespectful for any reason, whether or not that was your intention, you will lose them.

So take a page from the playwright's script, and make sure your words clearly speak for themselves. Because you don't have the luxury of including stage directions!

Back into the frying-pan

This time last week I was very successfully not thinking about clients, business, or my new play as I spent time with my family relaxing in the relatively cool Maine weather. When we were not at the beach, eating lobster, or visiting historical sites and lighthouses, I immersed myself reading the much-ballyhooed Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee. I found it fascinating! As a playwright who spends a fair amount of time constructing back stories and unfolding the histories of my characters, I could not wait to see what Ms. Lee's original concept of "Scout" Finch and her father Atticus were. And when I compared them to the characters they became, later-yet-earlier, in the classic To Kill a Mockingbird , I truly felt that I learned a lot about the process of a literary genius!

Snapping out of my creative reverie on the ride home last Sunday, I tried to catch up on the news. As we drove south and the temperature soared, I was delighted to read an important article in The Guardian by feminist author Naomi Wolf urging young women to stop engaging in the distracting and destructive practice of vocal fry. I cheered and mentally tipped my hat to Ms. Wolf. In her article she reinforced what I have been telling clients for years. A sample: "Voice remains political at work as well. A Catalyst study found that self-advocacy skills correlate to workplace status and pay more directly than merit. In other words, speaking well is better for your career than working hard."

But in the days that followed, a backlash to her sound reasoning gathered steam. It has perplexed and dismayed me. Some read Wolf's practical advice (to strengthen your voice and so reclaim it) as silencing those voices. Well, if Wolf is a stifler of voice, then so am I. I  advise all my clients and students--men and women--to kick to vocal fry habit. This gravelly sound may sound sexy or grown-up to your inner ear, but to those listening it sounds as if you a) just don't care or b) might be ill. Telling young people on their way up the career ladder to eliminate a bad habit (experts say vocal fry is usage problem, not a physiological one) seems like a smart plan to me.

I know that voice is intensely personal. It is one of the tools we use to signify to the world who we are. I work with my clients to help them polish up their existing vocal tool kit, so they can maximize their vocal potential. I would never attempt to throw out anyone's personal toolbox and replace it with something that is inauthentic. But remember: you need to use the right tool for the job.

I don't care how much you creak or fry or wallow in the gravel when you speak privately or socially. But if you are a client of mine, young or old, male or female, I will certainly help you eliminate that sound from your professional and public speaking. Because I know I am not alone in experiencing a fingernails-on-the blackboard visceral response when I hear vocal fry. Consequently, I don't/can't listen to people who do it.  Which is a sure-fire way, regardless of age or gender, to silence your own voice.

Little words tell a big story

I have just finished a month teaching gifted, ambitious high school students at a summer program run by the School of Communications at American University. It is always rewarding work. I teach two classes that focus on real-time verbal communications: Speaking for Impact and The Art of the Interview (students from that class are pictured here at WUSA-9). Students work hard in our sessions to improve, and one of the areas we concentrate on is awareness and elimination of verbal tics.

Here's a tic that seemed most prevalent this year: the over-use of "little words." Not your usual filler words, these—"just" and "so"—specifically diminish the power of statements they are attached to. As with many of these unconscious verbal tics, I first notice it with my kids, but soon become aware that it had seeped into adult communications. And like a few others ("upending?" "vocal fry"), this "just-and-so-itis" seems to disproportionately effect female speakers. I am not the only one to have noticed this trend. Check out this article from Business Insider, in which author Ellen Petry Leanse observes that the over-use of "just" by women can dilute the power of their message. I agree. "Just" should be used judiciously, correctly, and never as an un- or sub- consciously apologetic or permission-seeking word.

As for "so:" one day 90% of the girls in my classes used it to preface many of their sentences. Only one of the boys did. Over the course of a month, I heard several speeches at the podium beginning with "so," (often paired with its good friend "OK"), and several interview questions started that way as well. That usage might be appropriate if—and only if—you are sitting in the guest chair being interviewed in a very informal setting. But when you use it to begin a speech, or before you give context or ask your question, it gives the impression that you need some kind of springboard to launch into what you have to say, which signals that you may be ill at ease. Or unprepared. Speakers might think this humanizes them (whatever that means!), but it really draws attention to their nervousness and speaker anxiety.

I am also seeing a lot of "so"s used to begin written communications from professional women who should know better! These are most often in e-mail messages and social media posts, but wherever they are, they weaken the message. It's as if the writer has some need to "back in" to the conversation, fears she does not have enough standing to simply begin. I know the women who do this would never consciously characterize their communications style this way. So why do they do it? Are they trying to be coy in order to soften a statement? Playing some kind of passive role so they can turn the tables later? Or are they simply unaware? Whatever the reason, they are not doing themselves any favors.

As I told my students, sometimes we should sweat the small stuff. Or at least be aware of the little words.

Getting the story out

I took a break from wrangling the first draft of my latest play to watch the Tony Awards last Sunday night. I was amazed by the depth and variety of the work represented onstage at Radio City Music Hall that night! And amazed that any work ever makes it to the staging stage. It is hard work mounting a new play--and a musical? Fuhgedddaboudit! It's all but impossible! 

As playwrights we know that the chances of actually seeing our work produced are slim at best. So why do we keep writing? Because the need to share stories is as old as humankind, possibly older than spoken language itself. And playwrights have stories that we are compelled to bring to life by giving  them voices, faces, character names. We want the world to see/hear/feel our stories. Humans respond to stories. We use stories to bind us together in community, to help us sort out problems, lay out arguments, and celebrate our successes.

Stories can be used to teach in a deeper way, reaching a different level of understanding. We waste their power if we relegate them to the stage or story-telling venues. In TED talks, personal stories combine with research outcomes, results of experiments, or conclusions from lived experience. Speakers use them to weave narratives that compel us to keep listening. We want to know what happens: How did more children in India learn? Did Kenneth's grandfather stop sleepwalking? How does Rookie fill the teen void in popular media?

Even scientists are harnessing the power of story to clearly communicate complex ideas (I blogged about this, too. You can read it here).

We all need stories. It's no secret. Yet during our hours in workplaces and offices we are often discouraged from telling them. They are deemed fanciful, recreational, only suitable for our "off hours." Facts and data rule this world. Yes, these are important; and sometimes we must include them. But facts serve our narratives--not the other way around.

So next time you set out to write a presentation, don't just slap a bunch of numbers or bullet points up on a slide and call it good. Include some illustrative stories, a framing narrative, or a thematically significant tale. Your audience will thank you. And you'll be amazed how much better your message will stick.