I Love Symposia
Well, I’m back from the City of Wine — loverly Bordeaux.
Actually, I’ve been back for a few days, but keep it under your hat, because I needed to recuperate before posting again. This was my first conference, other than JavaOne (also known as gimmee-fest in the last nineties).
At the last minute, one of my team members moved away and was unable to present his paper. Fortunately, I’ve been working on the same project for the last year-ish, so I know the subject well. Plus, I speak English, which is supposed to reassure me at the last minute.
In fact, I’m not a very good actor. I know, you’ve seen Gilman’s Model with your own eyes, and some of you have even seen Tears of the Frog. Those are my finest hours on screen. Despite years of speech and debate, competitive poetry recitals (The Festival) and theatre courses, I never really developed as a showman. I’ve enjoyed working backstage, up in the lighting or sound booth, and once as stage manager and composer.
I get nervous in public. My hands shake incredibly, even presenting to two or three people. Sometimes the world swims — not in a cutesy figuratively I-feel-faint kind of way, but where the nerves controlling my eyeball direction weaken and the world starts swaying back and forth in a terrifying manner. That was always rough for piano recitals (since I never memorized my music).
The worst is rehearsing. I’m not prepared for my speech, and I didn’t make it through once in my hotel room. I interrupt myself, and repeat phrases and get confused, and work myself into grammatical knots from which extraction is more than difficultly achievable. I’ve learned not to rehearse on the day of a presentation, because it saps my confidence.
The actual presentation, however, normally goes comparatively well. I surprise myself with the ability to say things — more than coherent, but not quite eloquent. I speak too fast, and I keep my hands behind my back so that they don’t do anything offensive or surprising. I’m actually good at answering questions.
And I love symposia.
GKarlsen
Holy Smokes!!!
I love pie! I also love strudel (but only the Canadianized version you find at Safeway and the like, not the real stuff from genuine Austro-Germanic folk)
I find that, in theory, I don’t mind getting up in front of people and speaking. I do worry about it a little but I had quite a bit of practice for a while in one of my jobs so that now it doesn’t hold the kind of terror it once did. I do find that practice makes a big difference. If you can work a few clever turns of phrase out in the practice then occasionally they will actually tumble, cleverly, out of your mouth during the performance. Since people are generally morons anyway the odds are that they will only be able to remember a few things from your talk and almost invariably this will be the cleverly turned phrases.
And, having sat through innumerable, endless, tragic, boring, terrible presentations, I can recognize that at worst I’m a bit boring but at least I speak quickly so I get through it fast…
I suspect that you, on the other hand, are a wonderful presenter as I’ve sat rapt on many an occasion while you described, in minute detail, your methodology behind a craft project the creation of which was entirely beyond an unrefined, uncrafty boor such as myself but was, none the less, an enjoyable listening interlude when delivered by the renowned Ryan Skraba.
What ever happened to those crazy rings that were all the rage after JavaOne? Did someone finally realize that wearing a hockey puck on your hand was neither glamourous nor useful? Or do I not watch the HSC enough?
I disagree with your evaluation of your own oratory skills. I have had the great pleasure of being your debate partner as well as acting in many a play in community theatre and scene at The Festival…I think you are superb.
Glad you are back.
I still wear my JavaRing — are you trying to tell me that it’s no longer in style?
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I thought I would recognize your kindness: you are too kind.
I don’t hold any illusions about my capabilities and I will unmodestly say that perhaps I speak in public better than average. But that’s still far from “excellent” or “entertaining”.
And confidence is supremely important in being able to speak; that’s why it’s so easy to chat with a friend, or expound on some ridiculous craft idea (just wait until you hear about the turkey roll!). That’s also why it’s difficult to constructively criticize a problematic speaker — if you sap their confidence by mentioning one problem, you introduce dozens of new problems.
The only real solutions are practice, video cameras and popping Valiums like Tums.