Out Front. Deborah Shames
I see a speaker like Naima, who reads or memorizes her material, I know there’s work to do. There’s an inevitable disconnect. The speaker is in her head. Her eye contact suffers and her voice sounds like she’s reading, which results in a presentation that sounds stilted and dull. By reciting her text, rather than speaking in a conversational tone, she is perceived as someone who doesn’t own her material.
Audiences don’t trust presenters who are too polished or perfect. They prefer speakers who are a bit rough around the edges, speak in a genuine voice, and are doing their best to engage an audience.
Audiences don’t trust presenters who are too polished or perfect.
There may be another principle at play. Women can be overly concerned about appearances—being judged by, competing against, or wanting to be accepted by other women. Women more than men notice what’s in style. Unfortunately, once we sharpen our powers of observation, women can be overly self-conscious about weight, hair, wardrobe, and fitness level.
These assessments are honed during our teenage years and set the stage for a lifetime of concern. No matter how smart we are, we’re bombarded by messages from the media, our peers, and even our parents that tell us we also have to look feminine, sexy, and youthful.
With so much pressure, women play into the hands of the fashion industry. Men’s suits, shirts, and shoes can last a decade, but many styles of women’s clothing are obsolete in one season. Skirts can go from just below the knee to mid-calf to mini in the blink of an eye. Celebrities like Beyoncé, Britney Spears, and Jennifer Lopez have their own clothing lines because they know their fans will copy what they see them wear.
Whenever we observe and compare ourselves to others, nine times out of ten we come up short.
By focusing on image over intelligence, style over substance, and being nice instead of effective, women set themselves up for failure. Too many women believe they can never be knowledgeable enough, polished enough, or perfect. It’s time to overcome centuries of programming that says our value is diminished if we don’t fit some impossible standard.
Myth #7: Public Speaking Is for Public Figures
If we believe the only individuals qualified to speak publicly are those who promote their agenda, sell their goods and services, or are standouts in their field, most of us would never walk onstage or address an audience.
Many women are reluctant to speak if they haven’t reached the top of their field or don’t have a mission. They also tend to have an aversion to the idea of “selling.” But the old-fashioned way of selling doesn’t work for anyone. The best way to convince someone to do business with you is to build a relationship, express a genuine concern, and put yourself in her shoes. Top salespeople form strategic alliances that benefit both parties. They’re authentic, they’re great listeners, and they ask probing questions. Even when it’s difficult, they do what’s best for the client.
The same holds true for public speakers. The outstanding ones are authentic and genuinely seem to care about their subject. Their tone is conversational, rather than professorial or affected. Audiences feel as if the speaker is having a dialogue with them, even though they are separated by a stage, conference table, or PowerPoint presentation. The best speakers share what’s true for them and want the audience to take away something valuable.
What are you passionate about, experienced in, or driven to share with the world? After training every personality and communication type, I know anyone can learn the techniques for delivering powerful presentations. But what transforms speakers from ordinary to extraordinary is the desire to reach more than one person at a time. Sometimes a dramatic event can motivate us to change course when we least expect it, as in the case of Ashley:
Ashley was an accomplished fitness trainer, long-distance runner, and athlete. Then the driver of an SUV ran a red light and smashed into her motorcycle. Ashley’s leg was almost ripped off and if it wasn’t for a Good Samaritan who used his belt to stop the bleeding, she would have died.
After thirty-five surgeries and three years of physical therapy, Ashley made a remarkable recovery. Although the doctors said she’d lose her leg, Ashley fought valiantly to keep it. What’s left of her leg is deformed, but bears her weight. She still tires easily, limps at times, and has reflex sympathetic dystrophy syndrome—which she describes as searing nerve pain. But Ashley is determined and hardworking. Even though she’d never been on a public stage before the accident, she’s now committed to sharing her story on the speaker circuit.
Ashley’s determination to overcome these obstacles motivated her to conquer her stage fright. Over three months of training, she progressed from a passionate but unstructured amateur to someone who can command the stage and adapt her material to the audience. She has become a role model for young people, business professionals, and anyone suffering from physical or psychological trauma. To me, there’s no better example of how someone’s passion propelled her to achieve what she believed was impossible.
Many women are great connectors, nurturers, and storytellers. Coincidentally, these are also terrific attributes for memorable public speakers. So rather than changing who you are to fit an arbitrary mold, why not redefine what makes a dynamic speaker and apply your strengths to being onstage?
When I directed film and television, I was very comfortable working behind the scenes. I had no trouble directing (some would say bossing) large technical crews, professional actors, or businesspeople. I knew what I wanted and how to ask for it. Being on set was where I belonged; whenever I was away, I couldn’t wait to get back.
But if asked to deliver a speech to a business organization, I panicked. To say I was out of my comfort zone was an understatement. However, there was one time I couldn’t get out of giving a talk to members of the local Chamber of Commerce on how video could advance their businesses.
For months, I agonized over this fifteen-minute talk. Every morning, I thought, “Why did I agree to do this?” I didn’t sleep the night before the speech. That morning, my chin sported a giant zit, and my hair had a life of its own. I looked and sounded like a zombie. I managed to get through the talk, but I have no idea what I said.
Years later, I was networking to grow our then-fledgling communication business. A member of a local Chamber asked me to speak to her group about unique self-introductions or colorful stories that would attract others to their business. My earlier Chamber speech flashed across my mind, but this time it made me smile.
I still had a dilemma. I don’t like lecturing or when people lecture me. Yet that was what I’d been asked to do. My instinct was to coach listeners to rethink how they introduced themselves or described their services. I remembered the old axiom from the film business: “Never work with kids, dogs, or amateurs.” Still, my gut said I could make it work.
That morning, I gave a brief opening on how to set yourself or your firm apart with a self-introduction and did a quick overview of the concepts from cognitive science on how to be memorable. Then I went around the room and asked various professionals to give their pitch and describe what they do.
My favorite was Charles, an interior designer who dutifully listed his services and sat down. With a bit of probing, I learned that Charles was one of HGTV’s designers, chosen to overhaul a family’s kitchen. But the family had disintegrated the morning the TV crew arrived to film the completed renovation. The husband, contemplating divorce, went out the night before and didn’t come home. The wife was still sleeping when Charles arrived. After he woke her up, she was in no mood to talk about her new kitchen and refused to be on camera. No one in the family was wearing the agreed-upon Hawaiian shirts that matched the kitchen’s new decor. Sophisticated Charles didn’t get the memo. He conducted the tour for the film crew by himself, feeling ridiculous in the Hawaiian shirt.
The audience was mesmerized. Charles’