I woke up today and pretty much right away had a Professor Farnsworth-like moment:
If you haven’t watched the 7 seasons and 4 film’s worth of gold that is the highly under appreciated Futurama, get yourself to Netflix! It’s cartoons for grownups!
It is, as always, a pleasure to share my work with others, both Slideshare visitors who are slide nerds and those who are slide nerd curious. Real delivery came out of my frustration with my previous lesson on delivery as well as a desire to push myself in terms of design and content (despite finding a terrible alignment error on slides 35-37 that I’ll correct in a few days–darn my eagle eyes!). On Monday, I’ll be sharing with you the first is a multi-part series on real delivery. Stay tuned for “Why it all comes down to delivery” tomorrow!
Today, I am proud to share with you the first in a monthly series of Slideshare.net deck debuts. The first (as I’ve noticed quite a few slide design decks but not too many presentation delivery decks) is Real Delivery. I’ll be breaking down the pieces to this acronym (Readiness, Engagement, Authenticity, Lasting Impression), but for now, check out the deck below. Happy Friday!
Check out Gavin McMahon’s Finding Your POWERful POINT webcast. I loved his Slideshare deck, but am completely immersed in this excellent and relevant webcast version of the deck. Lessons I drew from the first 20 minutes:
You are not Steve Jobs, but that’s ok, you are not supposed to be.
Harness your natural strengths as a presenter and grow from there!
Teachers need to simplify and get out of their heads.
Gavin is a master of speaker analysis–his insights on the various presenter types has really caused me to do a bit of soul searching about my own role as presenter/teacher.
Now, let’s talk about ways to actually take that storyboarding method and apply it to both classic and new methods of organizing persuasion. I am purposely avoiding the standard categorical style of organizing a presentation, in which you “Tell ‘em what you’re gonna tell ‘em; tell ‘em; then tell ‘em what you told ‘em” because, frankly, it sucks after watching 3 years worth of speeches mostly organized in this way. Most audiences respond to arguments that are structured around them and those that adapt based on context and situation. I find that the four following patterns help both novice and experience speakers develop effective PechaKuchas.
Inverted Triangle Structure or Problem/Cause/Solution
We will start with my pk, which I presented at PechaKucha Orlando, vol. 2.
My presentation is really informative and not persuasive, though I am asking the audience to accept my analysis of Plath’s “Metaphors” as truth.
I visualized my presentation as a triangle, as a shape that moved from the general subject of language to the specific topic of Plath’s poem. I moved from a general concept to a specific application of that concept.
In a similar way, students can begin with a general problem and then move into the individual real-life applications of that problem and the specific solution the presenter is focusing on.
This structure would be based on problem, cause, and solution.
Nancy Duarte’s Sparkline
I encourage students to develop a shape for their presentations, and we review Duarte’s sparkline as another example of shape. I referenced this in the previous post on Storyboarding, but I’ll go ahead and give you another chance to learn about this excellent organizational and analytical structure for persuasive speech. Duarte’s model essentially structures the presentation around this idea of constant contrast between what is, the status quo, the sucky competition, the way things are, and what could be, your solution, the intrepid solution, the way things could be. She also blends story structure and Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey into this model.
Duarte integrates the call to adventure, crossing the threshold, and return to the new world elements from Campbell’s structure.
Her sparkline happens to be the pattern all great speeches follow, from Steve Jobs’ iPhone launch in 2007 to Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. Were you to storyboard using Duarte’s sparkline structure, your storyboard might take on this shape.
In this case, SUCESS is Chip and Dan Heath’s acronym for an idea that sticks: Simple, Unexpected, Concrete, Credible, Emotional, Stories
Criteria Application
Another possible pattern of organization is criteria application. This pattern essentially establishes criteria for a general idea and then applies that criteria to a specific case. It is a pattern often used when one is supporting a value claim, or one that is based on the relative merits of an idea.
For instance, arguing that something is morally right or wrong, or persuading us to see a particular film as the best example of its genre. Organizing what is essentially a supported opinion can be difficult–after all, some of this seems like an issue of preference or moral/value based judgment calls. However, using that criteria application pattern can enable you to take your supported opinion and present it in a way that is reasonable to your audience.
I use this example in class: “Volunteering is an integral part of the well-rounded college experience.” In order for me to prove this, I am first going to have to define what I mean by “well-rounded” and “integral” college experiences. I am going to have to establish some criteria. So, for instance, I could say that:
A well-rounded college experience should help you grow as an individual.
A well-rounded college experience provides you with valuable work experience.
A well-rounded college experience increases your knowledge of others.
A well-rounded college experience helps you contribute to society.
I would then illustrate and prove that volunteering can help add to that experience, in fact, it’s integral to that experience, providing you with what you can gain through no other similar experience.
Volunteering helps you reach self-actualization.
Volunteering is work in and of itself.
Volunteering allows you to interact with a diverse group of people.
Volunteering is community service–it betters society.
I could tell I’d taught those kids about unity and they’d listened when a student pointed out that this example was not very unified in terms of theme. I concurred, admitting I’d put the sample together quickly to give the class a visual example to hold on to.
Motivated Sequence
A final and very useful pattern of organization is Monroe’s motivated sequence. Alan Monroe developed the sequence or pattern for organizing information after studying John Dewey’s work on psycho-logic for human problem solving and combining it with our human tendency to be self-motivated and self-centered.
In pitching his ingenious ideas for ads, Don Draper uses Monroe’s motivated sequence beautifully. Check out one of my favorite scenes here.
In essence, people solve problems by first becoming aware of a problem related to themselves, then analyzing it’s scope and causes, searching out solutions, picking the solution that works best to solve the problem.
The motivated sequence follows the problem-cause-solution pattern, but it is focused on an audience’s specific needs. This pattern has been so successful in motivating action, that it’s basically the pattern we see in every infomercial and commercial. My favorite example? The Snuggie.
Want to keep warm but don’t want your energy bill to go up? Pesky blanket moving around too much?
The motivated sequence is broken up into these steps:
Hook–get the audience’s attention.
This is the part in the snuggie commercial where the announcer asks you, “have you ever experience this…”
Need–isolate the audience’s problem.
Monroe indicates that we will not listen to an argument that isolates a problem we cannot see as relatable to ourselves. The problem has to correspond with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs–lower level first. In the Snuggie commercial, the problem is both a matter of physiological and security needs, but also those of self-esteem (I feel better about myself; the Snuggie lets me read unencumbered) and even self-actualization (my snuggie stops the infighting between me and my family at baseball games, thus bringing us closer together).
The lesser known hierarchy of robot needs.
Satisfaction–the solution must then be presented in an actionable way.
Solve the audience’s problem by providing a tangible, practical, and doable solution.
To me, this spells satisfaction.
In the snuggie commercial, the solution IS the snuggie.
It’s a blanket with arms! Eureka!
Visualization–Monroe also realized that it wasn’t enough for people to hear a solution. They have to believe it works
Audiences have to be able to test the solution, see it work in other instances. It’s essentially the doubting Thomas step.
If I can’t see it, it doesn’t work, sayeth the doubting Thomas that is your audience.
In the Snuggie commercial, the visualization step takes our previously incompetent commercial family and shows them joyfully basking in the light of their own self-generated blanket-with-arms glow.
Oh, the joys of being warm, fashionable, and literate.
Now, it’s time to call your audience to action.
They understand what they need, you’ve provided them with a solution, you’ve shown them it works. Now, use the momentum you built to inspire action (Throw in an extra Snuggie for good measure)!
You know, I’ve come to believe that bullet points kill. I say this from day one in my class–bullets kill. Don’t use them (unless you absolutely have to). But, after three years of teaching public speaking, I realize that I’ve seen lots of zen-like visuals, loads of neat ideas for how to convey information, and a plethora of subjects discussed in a myriad of ways, but that I’ve equally been witness to disjointed, chaotic presentations, complete with moments of cognitive and communicative disaster, verbal diarrhea, and sloppy delivery. So, perhaps my focus has been misdirected. Perhaps it’s not only bullets that kill, but also unrehearsed, unpracticed presenters. This realization surfaced after a rather painful series of worst case scenario/how to team presentations.
Bullet points present information in a static, sterile way, boring audiences. Unprepared presenters confuse, irritate, bore, or shock audiences.
It was painfully evident from the time class started that most of the groups had not rehearsed or practiced together once. I had to remind most of the class that this was a formal presentation, and that they were expected to dress professionally. Several groups had not even finished their slides. Because my classes are small, I open up the first 90 minutes of presentation day to dress rehearsal with me, after all, I am the one assessing the group’s presentation; it also makes sense to do at least one run through in the presentation environment/context.
One hour into dress rehearsal time and only one group came to me indicating an interest in rehearsing. Another group sat in front of me and explained that practice would make their performance seem disingenuine. Then, about 30 minutes before presentations were to begin, the groups started scrambling to rehearse. The three groups who did rehearse had clearly not even spoken about who would tackle what information; they hadn’t even considered if they had enough information to go on, nor had several of the groups even developed a strong hook. I was five minutes from canceling the presentations and asking the students to present the next class.
Needless to say, presentations themselves were mostly forgettable. It was clear to everyone present who had bothered to practice and who had not taken the assignment seriously. During our post presentation Q & A, we all agreed that I did not have to lecture them on the importance of practice and rehearsal. They were first hand witnesses to what happens when you don’t rehearse or practice, when you believe “winging it” will give you that Ken Robinsonesque level of comfort and conversational tone. Now, in a perfect world, these students will learn from this lesson and always practice in the future. However, I know from observing their final project business pitches that they don’t practice when the stakes are higher, that there is a great divide between theory and practice when it comes to rehearsal. The average presenter devotes little time to practice and rehearsing, perhaps from nervousness, perhaps from overconfidence. But, my students are amazing people; I want them to be amazing presenters.
Presentation skills are not cookies. Chocolate chips won’t compensate for you being an average speaker. Your audience spends a lifetime in meetings listening to people who are average speakers and wishing they were somewhere else. –Andrew Dlugan, Six Minutes
This experience has caused me to do a bit of self-reflection on my own approach to teaching this subject and the amount of time I spend holding students accountable for practice and rehearsal. It’s also caused me to think a bit more about why people don’t practice, and how I can reinforce in others that great presenting is not magic, great presenters don’t just happen, great presenters practice; they mold and shape themselves into super stars through consistent learning, expanding, and practice. In my search for inspiration, I found the work of Nick Morgan, Forbes contributor and passionate communicator. Nick shares the story of a CEO, whose overconfidence and lack of experience culminated in a speech that was so awful that it generated a catch phrase in the public speaking world: “Jumping the Couch,” a phrase originating from the presenter’s odd delivery choice: Jump on a couch, do a martial arts trick, speak a few lines from the speech. Repeat for 60 minutes. Morgan’s final comments in the Forbes article struck me as a particularly relevant idea for my students:
You must rehearse. You don’t want to jump the couch. Adrenaline plays funny tricks on the mind, and you need to establish the muscle memory of a full, physical rehearsal in order to give your body something remembered to do when the adrenaline kicks in. A mental run-through is not enough. You must rehearse.
If find yourself arguing with me, or yourself, giving reasons why you don’t need to rehearse, that’s a red public speaking flag. Professionals rehearse. Amateurs jump the couch. So rehearse. Please.
While reading this, I couldn’t help but think about how often my students resist and argue with me that practice makes their presentations robotic, that they are great at improvisation, and that they will just “wing it.” I teach my students to present in the Pecha Kucha style. We watch my PK, not because I want to regale them with tales of my awesomeness, but because I want them to see that I don’t ask them to do anything I wouldn’t do myself.
Watching myself is torturous, but helps me become a stronger speaker. When will I stop saying the word “now”?
As we watched my speech yesterday, one student marveled at my ability to synchronize my slides and my verbal points. He said it felt like he was watching a magic show. My response: no magic, just hours and hours of practice. Great speech is not magic–great speech is systematic, logical, methodical, and critical. Great speech takes great practice! Okay, so how should we practice? I’ve gathered a few of my favorite people’s advice on practice as a starting point.
Today in Professional Communication and Presentation, my amazing students this month delivered their TED analysis speeches. This assignment has been a staple in my class since I discovered TED three years ago. I was and am consistently amazed by the humanity, passion, compassion, humility, energy, empathy, enthusiasm, innovation, genius, wisdom, and spirit of community embodied and lived by TEDsters (those of us who consider ourselves complete lovers of TED, those who present at TED, those who attend TED, and the geniuses who began–Richard Saul Wurman–and grew–Chris Anderson–the wonder that is today’s Technology, Entertainment, and Design Conference).
Courtesy of TED.com
TED has grown from a rather elitist, by invitation only, extravagantly expensive conference to a creative commons, open sharing, open conversing, education-driving, source for all ideas worth spreading. Either way, I love it. I love TED. Not only for what it teaches me and my students about the human condition, but also for its ability to transcend barriers–socio-economic, cultural, gender, racial, sexual, environmental, political, and ideological.
My students are given the task of choosing a TED talk to analyze. They must choose something that grabs their attention, resonates with them personally, and that embodies the TED Commandments, a set of unofficial rules or caveats given to TED speakers before they present (they also get copies of my two favorite books: Presentation Zen and Slide:ology by two of my gurus, Garr Reynolds and Nancy Duarte). This month’s students are an eclectic mix, a delicious spectrum of humanity–from the introverted intellectual to the deeply passionate, emphatic, (and vocal) extrovert.
Their chosen talks were a reflection of their personalities, interests, and whether they realized it or not, their needs and wants as audience members. Today, we discussed the harrowing child prostitution problem in India as eloquently and passionately told by Sunitha Krishnan; we explored how to truth seek with Pamela Meyer and heard the tale of Norden’s bombsight as told by master storyteller Malcolm Gladwell; we learned of John Francis‘ story, the story of a man who neither used motorized transportation nor spoke for 17 years, yet taught earned a PHD, taught at the college level, and worked as a UN Ambassador; and we marveled at Jae Rhim Lee‘s amazing mushroom death suit. Yup, TED speech days make me feel like dancing a jig…with some unicorns…on a rainbow….made of all my favorite cheeses.
The speech that stood out to me the most was not delivered by the gentleman who proclaimed to all of us that he only prepared for the assignment the night before, chose his TED talk at random, and explained that he would be “winging” his presentation and he hoped this would not result in lost points. Surprising? No, not really.
The speech that stands out to me the most was delivered by someone who, upon first glance, one might dismiss as the sort of pensive, shy student who rarely makes ripples or an impact (though I must admit, I was enamored with him right away–he is, after all, a self-proclaimed nerd, and I can never resist a nerd!). This student’s speech was well-prepared, exquisitely delivered with the right amount of humor, personality, and relevant content (he went so far as to reenact Ken Robinson’s excellent opening to “Bring on the Learning Revolution!”). This student included personal experience, used storytelling, revealed his passion for the topic of education, and wholeheartedly shared his reaction to Robinson’s point. But, it wasn’t any of this that created a truly resonant moment in class, not just for me, but for everyone else in the classroom. What was this amazing, mind-blowing epiphany aka aha moment?
Present the way you would have a conversation. If you wouldn’t do it in a conversation; don’t do it in a presentation.
That’s it? Really? I’ve said keep your presentation conversational for years! How could this mere nerd show us public speaking teachers up with something we tell our students day in and day out?
The answer is in how he framed it. He managed to say what I’ve been trying to show and teach for years. His idea resonated with everyone in that cold, sterile room today:
How do you have a conversation with someone?
You maintain eye contact and work to even physically connect with whom you are conversing
You convey information through stories
You appeal to emotion (some conversations make you cry, some laugh, some rail at the injustices of the world)
You respect your conversation partner and listen
You focus on clarity
You illustrate empathy and goodwill
You don’t keep barriers between you and the person with whom you are speaking
You don’t memorize what you are going to say, but important and worthy conversations have some element of preparation to them
You are reactionary and adapt to the conversation partner
So, how does this relate to presenting? Can we really approach a presentation like a conversation? Will this somehow help people avoid some of the habits that make presentations sterile, robotic, forgettable?
Great speakers maintain eye contact; they also move away from a podium and detach from their notes. Great speakers “sweep the room” as my fellow Super Teacher Alex Rister asserts.
What sets apart a forgettable speech from a resonating, life-altering communication experience? Storytelling. As the Heath brothers say, by combining information, knowledge, context and emotion, “stories are important cognitive events.”
Great presentations make us FEEL. It’s not enough to know and believe; we are human, we are born knowing that emotion generates results (baby crying = some grown creature responding to said baby crying).
Great speeches are clear, direct, and specific. As Ben Zander put it, Martin Luther King did not add the caveat “I’m not sure they’ll be up to it” to his proclamation, “I have a dream!” Watch his TED talk, and see another wonderful example of humble wisdom. It’s my absolute favorite. Hands down.
I am still seeking the perfect way to emphasize the importance of empathy to my students. I often get the sense they think I am being “soft.” But, empathy is the driving force of the human universe. Empathy, as Jeremy Rifkin explores in “The Empathic Civilization,” is built into our biology. We are soft-wired, from our mirror neurons to our recognition of the human experience and its basis in suffering, for empathy. Empathy, or the need to belong and connect, is the invisible hand. The speakers I admire empathize with their audiences; they consider what their audience needs, wants, and what’s in their best interest (not the speaker’s own agenda).
One reason great presentations resemble great conversations is that great speakers erase the barriers between themselves and their audiences. Garr Reynold’s discussed this beautifully in The Naked Presenter–podiums, lecterns, technology, dimmed lights, busy slides–all of these are barriers (as is poor preparation).
Great speeches are often extemporaneous, at the very least, even with rehearsal and practice, the speeches we remember, for instance, MLK’s “I Have a Dream” contain moments of improvisation, speaking entirely from a place where the message is internalized, so that speaking and digressions from prewritten plans or ideas are second nature.
This student’s words truly made an impact on me. I say this gladly after watching hundreds of speeches each year both on campus, online, at TEDxOrlando or PechaKucha Orlando, and at school workshops. One simple idea, constructed in a way that resonated with a small group of people became the idea I share with you now. Present the way you converse!
I love the folks at Ethos3. Their approach to presenting is fresh, hip, young, and at times irreverent. One of my current online students chose an Ethos3 presentation for her analysis of a designed visual aid this week, and in my exploration of said deck, I ran across this preview for Scott Schwertly’s How to be a Presentation God, which is a book I’ve been considering purchasing. If the book is anything like the preview–chock full of excellent storytelling, engaging, clean, and impeccably designed, then I am sold. Check it out!
