The Doctor is IN!

Nothing can go wrong-o, I am in the Kongo

I love listening to the Raffi song “Joshua Giraffe” with my grandchildren in the car. The chorus, “Nothing can go wrong-o, I’m in the Kongo,” is a wonderfully ironic line that makes me chuckle, partly because the irony is aimed at adults, not children.

That chorus reminds me of some presenters I’ve seen. They arrive shortly before their scheduled presentation; their technology fails; they get rattled. All of this could be avoided if they would recognize that “If something can go wrong-o, it probably will.”

Here’s what I have learned about preparing for potential surprises and disasters.

“Buy” insurance

It’s so simple: Insure against surprises by showing up at least ONE HOUR EARLY. This saved me when I arrived at a prearranged building in St. Paul, Minnesota, only to find that the class had been moved to Minneapolis (12 miles away) with no notice. Risking an accident or a heart attack, I raced to Minneapolis and started class on time because I had that one-hour buffer. Your potential disaster may not be so drastic, but certainly extra time will help cushion you against potential surprises.

Bring backup files

Projectors seem to be far more compatible with laptops than ever before, but technology is never predictable. Sometimes, my laptop won’t work with the technology in the room; I always bring a flash drive loaded with my linked files and folders to use in another laptop or computer. I include a PDF of the handouts if for some reason they haven’t arrived by mail. For extra insurance, I bring a DVD with redundant copies of all relevant files. The good news is that I’ve hardly ever had to use my backup material, but knowing that it is available relaxes me.

Bring redundant equipment

I use a remote to advance my PowerPoint slides. Since all batteries are fallible and the one in the remote gives no warning that it’s going to fail, I carry a backup battery (it costs less than $4 and is about the size of my thumbnail). With a tiny screwdriver, I can replace the battery in less than a minute, or I can replace it pre-emptively about every two years.

I carry extra cables and an extra battery pack for my laptop, and I even bring an extra power strip and extension cord (all labeled with my phone number in case I leave them behind). My laptop is labeled with my tech support number and my account number. I bring a copy of my purchase documents in case I am ever questioned in customs. I carry duct tape to secure cables and cords to avoid tripping over them. All of this preparation costs less than $50 and one hour of time, but it has saved me countless headaches.

Troubleshooting a faulty projector

Check the lens cap, power cords, power switch, sleep modes, and cable connections. Synchronize your laptop with the projector; the method differs between brands. If the projector and laptop don’t sync, completely disconnect both, then reconnect; turn on the projector first and laptop next.

We all hope to arrive at our presentation or training room to find the latest model projector and a professional support person eager to help us. Reality differs from this vision, of course, and we can prepare and insure against most surprises or disasters with a few simple steps.

The British competitor to Edward Tufte?

My friend Rosie Senjem sent me a link to a TED video by David McCandless on The Beauty of Data Visualization. His PowerPoint show is amazing, and completely discounts Edward Tufte’s arguments against PP. Tufte argues for creative visualization of data, but trashes PP as a medium. McCandless proves him wrong, I think.

The power of groups to support the individual, part 1

I’m practicing my tactic of overcoming writer’s block by blogging parts of an article I’m drafting. The benefit of blogging  for me is that I think of my public audience more when I blog, vs. writing in my journal, which seems more private. So here goes:

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My life is a paradox. I consider myself very independent (a therapist once told me that I had more need for autonomy than most). I love to work for and by myself, alone (with my dog)  in my quiet office with four windows. However, I also gravitate toward groups, both existing and self-formed.

I’ve joined professional organizations: STC, AMWA (American Medical Writers Association), and Toastmasters, as well as personal groups such as circuit training at my gym and several recovery groups. I’ve also formed groups when there didn’t appear to be any that would meet my needs. I started a dissertation support group that provided accountability and an opportunity to get feedback on writing issues. Dissertation in hand, I formed a job search support group that helped with job search strategy, resumes, cover letters; we taped mock interviews and gave each other feedback. Once I had landed a job, I formed a divorce support group to guide me through another rocky period.

[more later: this was just the intro]

How I learned to stop worrying and start loving feedback

This month marks my 5-year anniversary as a Toastmaster member. I’ve attended regularly in both St. Paul MN and my home town.

Coincidentally, I’ve had two “corrections” by colleagues this week. In both cases, I accepted the evaluative correction gracefully, without the defensiveness or internal churning that I have experienced in my past. Both colleagues meant well, and their suggestions were helpful.

It never used to be that way. Evaluation by anyone would send me into an emotional tailspin. I think it is the even-tempered evaluation method of Toastmasters, dosed out over 200+ meetings, that has helped me to accept any feedback calmly and give feedback kindly and thoroughly.

An unofficial Toastmaster motto is, “Nobody is a perfect presenter.” Its corollary is, “Nobody is a perfect evaluator.” The format for Toastmaster evaluation is “praise/positive suggestions/praise.” I’m no longer afraid to give or get evaluations because I view the process as necessary and helpful.

Caroline Kennedy, you know?

This blog post is not a political comment, but more of a teacher’s comment: Caroline Kennedy, who wants to be appointed to Hilary Clinton’s Senate seat in New York, said “you know” 142 times in a very short interview recently. This reflexive habit of repeating a “tic” like “you know” or “um” or “like” is totally fixable! The doctor recommends Toastmasters International, like, um, about 5 years ago.

Seriously, I have attended Toastmasters meetings for over 4 years and have gradually phased out “um” from my own personal soundtrack. In every TM meeting, a “grammarian” counts speakers’ verbal tics and reports on them at the end of the meeting. Nothing changes if nothing changes, you know what I mean? Awareness is the first step to recovery, and anyone who wants to run for any kind of public office should do some time in Toastmasters. It will change your speaking habits, always for the better, you know?

(Post-post [that’s like a post you post after you post your post, sort of  like, you know, um, a post-script to a post): Mom, even though you’ve been gone 8 years this month, I still hear your words to my teen-age self when I would say, “You know” repeatedly : “No, dear, I don’t know.” Thank you for breaking THAT habit of mine!)