Sometimes when I can’t back down (which is usually much easier to do) there is an extra high pressure to do well. In this case, I had to explain what is it I do and how it contributes to our bottom line. ICYDK, company culture and training are super hard to track on a daily basis. I felt like I had to convince a group of people (who usually work by numbers) that my work matters. Plus these are people who see what I do every day. They aren’t easy to be fooled.
So I thought and thought, talked to the one person whom I know would unfalteringly support me (convenient that this happens to be the CEO, as he hired me, after all), then I panicked, freaked out, thought some more, worked on it, got a first draft, nearly gave up, thought some more, then finally got into the zone the night before the presentation. There was bit of approval from the boss, which validated my feeling that I was on the right track, but I know it was far from a good product. And so began the ritual of talking to myself, writing copiously in the Slide Notes section until it essentially became a script, rehearsed it over and over as I worked on the slides. As I closed my laptop at 2 AM, I was still going through it in my head, knowing I’ll be way too tired in the morning.
3.5 hours later, I woke up and knew it was done. The actual presentation wouldn’t matter – the slides were done and I had my script, and so it would go as closely as planned as possible. As far as I was concerned, it was already out of my control before I entered the office.
Of course we had to precede this presentation with actual work stuff, that is, discussing sales.
In the end, my timid self decided to come out (instead of the loud, domineering me that I thought would take over), so I talked softly but very quickly, which seem to project a quiet calm. I like that part of me but I don’t like how I can’t control which part of me comes out in any presentation.
It went really well. A little long, perhaps. There were no questions, and of course this is reminiscent to what they used to say during those debating days – that my speaking style leans way too much into storytelling mode, such that the audience find themselves too lost in the narrative, and came out not remembering what it was about. They’d leave feeling good, and might I say slightly refreshed, but usually too thoughtful to think critically. What am I supposed to make of this feedback? Debating is about winning, and this was my winning strategy. Absorb their attention.
I blinked, and suddenly it’s a decade later, and my colleagues are staring back at me quietly. Then one raised her hand, and said, “I don’t have a question, but I just wanted to thank you…” and on goes a gratitude, which led one more person to chime in, and it was a lovefest as if it were my birthday or I was critically ill. I aww-ed and smiled, but inside I was gloating and loving every bit of the attention, of course. There were some more compliments throughout the day, which I lapped greedily like it was water to my soul (my favorite: “For an introvert, that was a really good presentation.”)
The main message was to show how little habits matter, and how tiny things made a difference in how this deck came to life. Deciding to start with the story of my first interview led to the idea to put the CEO’s picture at the end. We shouldn’t take this too seriously (“thanks much”), but really, that presentation was a tribute him for luring me out of my happy YOLO days and trapping me in this weird journey. In that sense, I succeeded. Of course, there were tiny mistakes, too – a good joke that I later forgot to say, a transition point that I missed and regretted. Waking up to read about Balanced Scorecard and realized that one key message actually turned out false, and had to be taken out. Do you understand what it means when I refer to this as a masterpiece?
There are certain things in which mediocrity is not to be endured, such as poetry, music, painting, public speaking.
Jean de la Bruyere
My public speaking is adequate enough that I typically don’t get nervous. But this was much more than a good presentation. Rather, it’s one of those cases where 24 hours prior I had no idea of what this will look like, then caught a lucky break where the idea starts to form. It always felt like a lucky break, and then the dam broke and it almost always come out like a script. Then what actually happened will be a little wonky, I will actually not look as confident as I usually do in just any other occasion, but a moment will be built up and I would find the audience on my side, and so the lovefest begins. It’s those moments when I see the audience’s surprise, for they didn’t expect this to be a moment, and I would find myself as surprised that it happened.
Tika Anindya 