Once upon a time, about fifteen years ago, I completely flubbed a curtain speech I had to deliver before a play. I had given many curtain speeches as the co-founder and Producing Director of North Carolina Stage Company, but that night, something went wrong.
The lights on my face were unusually bright, and I was suddenly, horribly aware of all the people in the audience looking at me. In spite of this distraction, I opened my mouth to speak and almost immediately said something I didn’t mean to. I don’t remember the words that came out, but I know that I surprised myself (in a bad way), and it was all downhill from there. My subjects and verbs didn’t agree, I forgot half of what I meant to say and said the other half badly. When I finally arrived at something like an ending, I got myself offstage as quickly as I could.
That particular doomed curtain speech has gained notoriety in my personal and professional life, especially since I went on, not long after that, to start my career as a communication and presentation skills coach. In fact, in addition to coaching, I have been asked to speak at a number of events through my work.
Ten years after the curtain speech incident, almost exactly, I found myself in a large ballroom, about to address a large conference as the keynote speaker. I was nervous, but I had prepared a lot and was excited to share our work with the people at the conference. (It helped a lot that I was co-presenting with my trusted colleague, Vivian Smith.)
Vivian and I walked up onto the stage, and I crossed to the center to speak first. I looked out at the people and felt a pleasant surge of adrenaline. I introduced myself and Vivian, then moved into the first section of the speech. This was when I spotted the distraction.
On the floor, a few feet in front of me, was a screen called a “comfort monitor.” This piece of equipment is common for speakers, as it shows them exactly what the audience can see on the main screen behind the speaker. It’s a way to keep up with your presentation without having to turn around and look.
I had not rehearsed with the monitor, and I hadn’t even been alerted to the fact that there would be one in use. I didn’t notice it until I started moving through our slides, and the changing light and color a few feet in front of me caught my eye.
For about a full second, the sight of the slides really threw me. There were three giant screens behind me, hundreds of people listening, and the movement of the slides on the floor monitor was so unexpected that I tripped over my words.
Unlike during the ill-fated curtain speech, however, I now had many years of experience under my belt. I did exactly what I would advise a client to do: I remembered why I was there, took a breath, looked out into the audience, and went on. I never looked at the monitor again, and I didn’t let the distraction derail me.
We can’t control all the variables around our presentations. Distractions are inevitably going to occur. The question is: when it happens to you, what will you do? Will you let the lights in your eyes derail the whole speech? Or will you know how to re-center yourself and move ahead, focusing on what you are there to bring the audience?
