Two recent experiences have reminded me that adapting to 11th hour changes is vital for success as a public presenter. The first experience was as a keynote speaker at the annual luncheon for the Montgomery County, MD Conference & Visitors Bureau (CVB). There was a cross-section of folks from the hospitality industry – from hotel sales managers and meeting planners to restaurant owners and floral arrangers. The second event was presenting the first toast at the wedding of a longtime friend and colleague. There were about 100 attendees at the luncheon and about 70 wedding guests.
At the luncheon I was compelled to make significant modifications to my planned program; at the wedding I chose to shorten my toast. This essay will explore in-depth my deliberate and spontaneous attitudinal and operational adjustments and how these last minute scaled down decisions and adaptations may have yielded outcomes even more powerful than a longer, well choreographed and rehearsed performance. More specifically, I will explore and expand a performance concept developed in the 1980s based on my “high anxiety” Cable TV experience. The concept: “Confronting Your Intimate FOE: Fear of Exposure.” And trust me, the choice of words is pretty literal. With my raw beginner status and the totally unpredictable nature of our television shoots, half the time I felt I was pulling off my pants in front of the camera. (For more background information on this on-air adventure email for the essay, “Creative Risk-Taking: The Art of Designing Disorder.”)
At five minutes after one, just before my introduction, the director of the CVB informs me that the luncheon program is behind schedule. I’ll need to finish my presentation by 1:30. Gulp…I had planned for 45-60 minutes, including three interactive exercises; my time was being cut in half. Talk about stress! Actually, the situation paralleled the double-edged conception of the Chinese character for “crisis” – “danger” and “opportunity.” Let me illustrate how the mix of scripted and spontaneous, “thinking on my feet” decisions (while often holding my breath) was mostly turned into condensed yet colorful “dancing” with the audience opportunities. Consider these Key “On the Run” Performance Barriers and Bridges:
1. Overcoming Initial Anxiety. When confronted with the new temporal reality, I quickly turned my generalized “how will I do this?” anxiety into starting on solid footing. That is, I followed my scripted introduction, telling the planned opening joke followed by an overview of my presentational purpose: to help the audience become FIT, i.e., “To have ‘Fun,’ to have an ‘Interactive’ experience and for the program to be ‘Thought Provoking.’” I also told my traditional “burnout battlefront” story that leads into the standard opening “Three ‘B’ Stress Barometer” small group exercise: “How does your ‘Brain,’ ‘Body’ and ‘Behavior’ let you know when you are under more STRESS than usual?
2. Operating a Presentational Paradigm Shift. While opening on familiar territory, nonetheless, this abbreviated time frame required a different balance between shared information and interactivity. Not having the time to make many learning points or to go into real conceptual depth, I quickly sensed the necessary broad operational principle: entertainment would outweigh education when choosing what to include and what to exclude.
3. Making Specific Edits and Adjustments. The first major adaptation on the run was realizing that I could not go through “The Four Stages of Burnout” in usual detail. Still, as we reviewed some of the burnout smoke signals I had the audience engage in a labored “group sigh” as I know this always generates knowing laughter. And it also leads to a sure laugh line: “Imagine this, we have the Mormon Tabernacle Choir of Sighing right here in Montgomery County!”
4. Discovering New Connections and Responses. Perhaps my most important learning moment occurred during the recitation of the “Three Stages of Burnout Recovery and Rejuvenation.” I was delineating the first stage, “The Six ‘F’s of Loss and Change,” that is, the social-psychological challenges and tasks that must be emotionally encountered to successfully grapple with painful transition. I had noted the “Loss of the Familiar,” dealing with an “Unpredictable Future,” as well as a “Loss of Face” and had just about completed the need to “Regain Focus,” especially “Focused Anger.” (Focused anger is when you can temper a sense of rage often generated by feelings of helplessness, wounded pride or abandonment by honestly embracing your emotional vulnerability and by doing grief work. In my formulation, gradually and courageously blending rage and sadness yields “Focused Anger,” a paradoxical state of tender aggression: “I don’t like all that’s happened but now, ‘sadder yet wiser,’ how can I make the best of my new reality?” Tender aggression helps cut the co-dependency or “b.s.” – “be safe” cord; we can begin to let go and embark on new exploration.)
And fittingly, I spontaneously cut the cord with the tried and true. Responding to the time pressure and the need to find a new balance for the information-interaction ratio, I suddenly declared to the audience, “I think we need to experience some healthy, focused aggression, right now!” And I quickly moved the group into my high aggressive energy yet safe and fun power struggle exercise called “You Can’t Make Me.” (I have everyone find an “eyeball partner.” Next, participants are instructed to “think about someone in your life who can be a pain in the butt.” Of course the most frequent lament is, “How can I limit it to just one?” Finally, one person says, “You can’t make me,” and the opposing party avers, “Oh yes I can!” After volleying their respective lines a couple of times, they are to “Say what you’d really like to say to your eyeball adversary.” Well the room totally erupted; the decibel level was off the wall as was the vital energy and spontaneous group laughter.
