Your message and other things you say

It’s often amazing to me how much is said and how little is communicated.  Many people seem intent on making sure they are heard — not that their message is heard.

It’s Toastmasters contest season again, and due to another obligation I was unable to attend or participate in my club’s contest.  It was a well-publicized event — I received at least three blanket emails and two direct personal ones inviting me to participate.  I know they had contestants — an email said they did and I saw a fellow member outside the club meeting and was told there were folks competing but they needed/wanted more people.

The contest was scheduled for 90 minutes across lunch, ending at 130pm.  At 255pm, I received an email to our entire club saying that someone had been overlooked in the Thank You fest that ended the contest (I’ve posted before about how useless thank yous are at Toastmasters — and anywhere else).  He worked hard (it’s a thankless task) and deserved some recognition.  But after that initial email, six (6) others replied to all to say “Hey yeah, thanks bud! Ditto!“  One person — who, like me, missed the contest — did chime in to ask who actually won the contest, since that was omitted from any of the emails.  Two more people replied to that query, apparently ignoring the request to add “Me, too.  Thanks!” messages to the growing thread.  I still do not know who won — it hasn’t been posted to the web site, and no email has gone out to acknowledge the contest ants (sic), who apparently are just an afterthought.

So what’s the purpose of this string of communications?  One person thanked someone else publicly (and deservedly so).  Five others felt the need to echo that sentiment publicly (when privately would have been FAR more appropriate).  No one felt the need to acknowledge the result of what supposedly was the stated purpose of the whole meeting.  What’s wrong with this picture?

Never hit send unless there is a purpose to the message, and match that message purpose to the (entire) audience you are sending it to.

The Boy and I got a fantastic tour of the local TV Station103105170 courtesy of neighbor and Sports anchor Jeff Gravley104106171 today. In our conversation, I was particularly interested in the communication skills that were needed for his job, and also how that has changed due to technology in the last 20 years or so. Having done a few video spots myself, I can attest that it is NOT like getting in front of a live audience and speaking/training — I think it is much harder. Throw in teleprompters, green screens, producers counting down with fingers just inches off the set, bright lights of every ilk and size, varying and binding time slots, and an incredible amount of background noise and concurrent activity in the newsroom and you’ve got a very difficult communications task.

In our discussion there were several questions I asked along the lines of, “Is that hard?” Almost all were met with a smile and eyebrows that indicated the skill we see at 11 o’clock (or 6, or 10) each night is born from sweat. Then he shared a how-to list connected to an analogy with sports (I have a feeling that sports anchors connect everything to sports). I connect it to everything we should be doing as communicators.

“Three things,” says Jeff. “Prepare, practice, and deliver.”

And it really is that easy.

1. The QB spends hours in the film room for a quarter of football. The (effective) communicator spends more time analyzing his audience than he does presenting to them.
2. The little leaguer fields hundreds of ground balls hoping to never be Bill Buckner107172. The (effective) communicator tapes, analyzes, and practices tone, inflection, rate, eye contact, and gestures until they are habit.
3. The entire team has butterflies and maximum adrenaline with the jump ball/face-off/serve/tee-off/gun/flag/anthem signals the start of the contest. Presenters get the same rush with perhaps higher stakes than some measley hunk of metal as soon as the introduction finishes.173

Prepare. Practice. Present. It’s easy. But folks who live only for the game are left to die on the field of play. Leave out the preparation — skimp on the repetition — and you’re not likely to take home the championship. It’s that simple.

My other friend Jeff174 has been participating in forums around Toastmasters that indicate an awful lot of presenters DON’T put in the time to practice. And from what I’ve observed in these many years, it shows. If a TV anchor didn’t practice, he’d not be employed long.  If the tennis star doesn’t put in the time, he’s a TV anchor (?) before long (?).  If the communicator doesn’t put in the time, she better have some other credential to fall back on.

Prepare.  Practice.  Present.

A common mistake of those making introductions is to hit the ‘punchline’ too quickly.  When the “heeeeere’s Johnny” (did I just date myself?) gets uttered, the audience goes into applause mode, and the introducer’s job is over.  Or at least it should be.

A common mistake — prevalent at many/most Toastmaster’s meetings — is to try to continue to make a point after giving what sounds to the audience like the final salvo of an introduction.  Many presenters will try to talk over the din of the applause to make that final point.  It is rarely received.  Others will wait for the applause to die down to make that final point.  The problem here is that the audience is in speaker mode and resents being kept on the hook by the introducer.

End introductions cleanly with a clear transfer to the speaker. (Then sit down).

I witnessed a great apology today.  At Toastmasters, we are frequently sarcastic and sometimes even caustic with one another (mostly the guys), and today was a light-hearted and enjoyable example of friends getting after one another.  It escalated quickly, with one member good-naturedly ribbing another with a direct comment that was laughed at, but probably inappropriate, and could have been hurtful (although I don’t think it was).  So where’s the problem?  Good friends (especially guys) often rib one another and in some places it is even confirmation that people are comfortable.  But in this audience, there were others who might not have been comfortable, and at least one visitor who was just sitting there watching the goings-on in wonder.

So the comment was ill-advised.  Big deal.  It faded as the program started, but the offender found himself speaking shortly thereafter.  He suprised everyone and decided to use the floor to apologize.

And he did a great job.  He stated in no uncertain terms that it was an inappropriate comment and addressed the offended (or not) party directly.  A few folks tried to make light of it and claim it was deserved, but he took the high road and said, “No, I shouldn’t have said that.“  Plain.  Simple. Direct.  Fully accepting responsibility.

In light of today’s political climate where no one seems to take responsibilty or credit for anything, and athletes use press releases to make mock apologies to regain their sponsorships, it was refreshing to hear such a short, direct, and appropriate apology.  Some simple rules for a good apology:

1. The scope of the apology should match the scope of the offense (don’t apologize to one when the offense was in front of 100, or vice versa)
2. The sooner the apology, the better
3. Don’t bring anything into an apology that even hints of an excuse. State the offense and accept that it was wrong.
4. Don’t take an offered out — own up.
5. Say it once, sincerely, and move on.

Apologies are harder to make than the offenses they supposedly make up for.  But done correctly, they can also gain more credibility and respect than the offense can lose.

Make good, sincere, appropriate apologies.

Had a guy last night offer up an English nugget to me. He was a very interesting guy — a true Renaissance man who was also a Toastmaster DTM (highest level possible). As we connected and talked, I used an incorrect word and he paused and said, “I’m going to correct you and you’re never going to forget this.”

He then explained the etymology of the words I confused. I used podium (something you stand on, from the Greek word podion for pod/foot) for lectern (something you put papers on and stand behind, from the Latin lectum, to read). He was right — I’ll never forget it.

The general populous speaks, writes, and understands poorly, and few if any will ever correct your grammar (I had an I/me problem the night before that my dad — who was hearing me speak for the first time — caught). But if we speak incorrectly and some select people do catch it, our credibility takes a hit, even if it’s just with a few. Someone who is a member of the self-proclaimed grammar police doesn’t overlook such transgressions easily. And just one audience member lost unnecessarily is a shame, and should be a personal challenge for improvement.

Required reading for writers and speakers: Eats, Shoots, and Leaves.

I’ll be thinking of this tonight as I stand at the podium, er, lecturn.

Use correct language in speaking and writing.

Had a comment on last night’s post to just give the tips to getting better.  Unfortunately, there are really precious few.

The best tip, of course, is Rule #1: It’s not about you, the presenter.  It’s about them, the listener/learner/client/audience.  Keeping that in mind is the basis for everything else we discuss.

Practically, the best way to get better is to a) tape yourself and watch the painful result (and/or ask for and receive an unbiased evaluation), and b) study and critique every presenter you come into contact with.  This is the basis for my blog — it’s really a personal journey for me to get better.  I’ve decided to share it with the world because I’ve had folks ask for what I notice and what I’d change.  If you don’t have many options to practice, ask friends, join Toastmasters, or make options.  I’m blessed that I make my living by speaking and helping others become better speakers.  I have a practice field almost every day.  Those that don’t have that blessing face an uphill battle, though not even close to an insurmountable one.

Always do what works for the audience.  Get/be better every time.

I placed second in tonite’s Toastmasters’ Division Evaluation contest.  While I won the Area contest, I joke that I finished second to last (only two competitors).  Everyone in tonite’s competition had won twice already, and everyone was good.  After the contest, I was approached by several folks who seemed unsure of how to approach me about ‘losing’.  One mentioned that he wanted to see the scorecard, implying I had done well, and been right in the thick of the trophy hunt.  I honestly don’t want to see the scorecard, and for lots of reasons, am quite OK to finish second.

I got what I came for.  I’ve had to learn and study how to give three minute evaluations that matter.  I’m used to droning on for as long as it takes (which is why I’ll never charge by the hour!) and working with folks to make them better.  A 2-3 minute evaluation rarely results in someone getting better.  It’s really an impromptu, short, critical, third-person speech.  And that’s a skill that anyone can practice and everyone needs.  So while the rest of my club (I won the club unopposed) chose not to ‘compete’, I got a chance to:

• listen to bunches of enjoyable speeches with a critical ear
• evaluate several speeches with the purpose to craft a message in five minutes or less
• hear what others had to say about speeches that I had already critiqued, providing an invaluable comparison for my own notes
• talk with a bunch of folks about what works for them in an evaluation
• speak in some miserable venues (speaker-wise) and find out how to overcome such limitations

I don’t know why any Toastmaster wouldn’t compete.  It’s a great opportunity.

And there’s a part of me that’s miffed that I finished second.  I am capable of better and possess the ability to produce first-rate, winning evaluations.  I didn’t have my best outing tonite.  I closed weak, failed to accentuate the positive as much as I should have, and modeled at least two broken mechanics that I complained to the speaker about.  But since a panel of 5 folks judged me as not exemplary, that means I have room to improve, and I intend to set out and do just that.  I commented to the person sitting beside me tonite that one of the things I love about public speaking is we never get it all right.  There are always ways to improve.  It’s a challenge, an opportunity, and great fun to chase first prize.  And getting better is the best prize of all.

What are you doing to improve your communication?

Took in a Toastmasters’ speech contest tonite.  I’m always challenged and entertained by what folks can come up with — the human mind is so creative!  But I suppose it’s what I do that makes it tough to get past what I consider to be critical elements that need to be fixed.  Tonite’s peeve was a speaker (whose speech was otherwise fantastic) who had eye contact with only two people in the audience.  One on the left; one on the right.  He bounced back and forth between them.  His wait times were good, but there just was no variety in where he waited.

One of the goals of personal communication to a group is to make every person in the group feel like they’ve been connected with at least once.  In large groups, this isn’t possible, of course, but a speaker can use areas to connect with and everyone in the vicinity can feel a part.  Tonite’s audience was small enough every set of eyes could have had some ‘face time’.  But they didn’t get it.  Since I wasn’t one of the chosen two, disinterest soon reared its ugly head.  I just wasn’t convinced the speaker wanted anything to do with me.

Connect with your audience — all of it.