You’ve been asked to give a reading. Or to talk to your audience about your writing style. Or be part of a symposium on how to write novels in the 21St century. Problem is, you hate public presentations. Or maybe you have never given one before. Any honest discussion of the art of giving presentations must acknowledge that most people rebel at its idea. In an often quoted news article, the London Times reported a study in which 3,000 interviewed subjects were asked to list their greatest fears.[1] Many concerns were easily anticipated e.g., fear of flying, fear of heights, fear of disease, as well as fear of animals, insects and loneliness. However, 41% of the respondents reported that they feared giving a public presentation above any other. They actually rated this fear greater than their fear of death! While it’s hard to envision that people are better prepared to part with their lives than to ascend a podium, clearly many have a deep and sincere dread of speaking in public. In fact, the anxiety leading up to the experience is as bad as making the presentation itself. Each of us has experienced part of the constellation of symptoms associated with presentation anxiety, more traditionally known as stage fright. This complex include blushing, sweating, shaking, tachycardia, and stuttering. In some people, stage fright produces mental confusion in combination with incomprehensible speech. These symptoms are the response to a physical fear reaction. The adrenal glands, in concert with other hormonal systems react to our brain’s signals that we are afraid. This reaction of our body is as though the threat felt by us is physical, not emotional. Responding to this perceived physical threat, epinephrine, norepinephrine, and other hormones are released into our systems, priming us to prepare for a powerful attack. Our heart rate increases and our blood pressures rises as the cardiovascular system prepares for a physical danger that is actually not present. Blood rushes from our stomach to our muscles, giving us that sense of “butterflies”. Our breathing rate increases, and our palms sweat. This is a strong, concerted reaction to a material menace. Your body is preparing you to survive a physical assault. But, of course, there will be no attack, and there is no physical threat. There is only the fear. Stage fright is the emotional complex that is triggered by fear. Of what is the speaker so afraid? There are many opinions about this, and most likely each of them is right in one circumstance or another. The common explanations for this fear is that the speaker is in a new and unfamiliar situation. Another is that the speaker is fearful of being the sole focus of an audience’s attention. This is commonly linked with a fear of isolation. As the speaker, you and you alone are the cynosure—the center of attraction. With the observers concentrating on you, the fear may be that they will concentrate on your appearance, your diction, and your idiosyncrasies. This can easily turn into the fear of being ridiculed. This concern goes together with the fear of looking foolish, of mental befuddlement, of speaking irrationally, of losing coherence. You are afraid of being rejected. The anticipation of these joint outcomes can overwhelm the speaker before they actually speak, producing the neurohormonal changes discussed earlier. Ergo, stage fright. Ultimately, the anxiety-struck speaker fears being hurt and sustaining damaged by giving the lecture. But, an honest and fair appraisal of this fear reaction requires us to ask how likely is it that such damage will be sustained. An amazing fact about presentation anxiety is that, despite all of the fears that may consume you, your audience usually don’t receive the signs of nervousness that you fear are being transmitted.[2] In fact, each individual in the audience has a set of observations and a personal set of self-absorptions that keep them from focusing solely on you.. Consider your own reactions when you are an audience member. Aren’t you too busy fumbling with the agenda, or speaking to a colleague, or turning your cell phone off, to pay close attention to the novelist’s mannerisms for very long? Since the audience is not concentrating on every detail and facet on your countenance, its members miss the outward signs of your fear. In addition, since many in the audience doesn’t know you well, they cannot detect the subtle signals of nervousness that your fears broadcast through your mannerisms and nonverbal cues. Actually, as the novelist, your situation is better than that. The members of the audience share your deep rooted fear of making a presentation. They know how they would feel if the roles were reversed and they were on the stage. In fact, without saying a word, your simple courageous act of walking before them to the podium engenders a sense of admiration in them. The audience hopes that you’ll be able to successfully complete your talk. More likely than not they are rooting for you, and they do not doubt your ability to complete the presentation successfully. In this regard, this audience’s optimism is closer to the truth than the low self-image of the panic-stricken novelist. At its root, then, stage fright is simply a very real fear of a very unreal threat. The Hunk papa is a tribe of Indians that are part of the Sioux Nation.[3] This nation, along with the Oglala Sioux, Lakota Sioux, and Blackfoot Sioux, inhabited and freely roamed the great plains of the United States up through the mid-nineteenth century. Among their leaders and fighters were numbered Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull. Although the Sioux had produced many responsible and compassionate leaders, these two men were held in the highest regard by their countrymen. Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull possessed a special, unique potency. They created and exuded a strong sense of self-identity and purpose, powered by a palpable and irresistible force. The Hunk papa said that these men “owned themselves.” You can confront the challenge of presentation anxiety by resolving the issue of ownership. Overtly, consciously, and affirmatively decide who owns you, then act on that decision. If you reclaim ownership of yourself, then stage fright is dealt with through disassembly. It is a simple replacement process. Presentation anxiety works by filling you with self-destructive images and thoughts, leading to self-destructive reactions. When you actively and affirmatively replace this complex with positive, deep seated beliefs in your own merit, you recover your sense of value and purpose, feel no fear (since you’re not threatened) and the reaction to fear never ignites. Confront anxiety by reasserting your personal sovereignty. Reacquaint yourself with what you stand for. Establish again in your own heart and mind your irreplaceable value as the individual scientist that you’re. Anxiety is a fear of chimera. The reality is that there is only one person, and, throughout the existence of humanity, there has been only one person with the unique combination of abilities, strengths, knowledge, curiosity, diligence, and intuition that you have. You’re that person, and the installation of these capabilities and insights within you first imbues, and then empowers you with value separate and apart from external concerns and performance. Even if your presentation was an absolute, and complete failure, its failure does not diminish the value of your talents, and must therefore not reduce your sense of self-value. Your sense of merit can never be taken—it can only be given away. Retain and strengthen ownership of yourself. Stage fright is an attempt to rob you of your sense of purpose and self-worth. Observe, however, that the presentation and its associated stress will quickly pass away. Any audience reaction to it, good or bad, will rapidly go by the wayside as well. Your personal sovereignty i.e., your appreciation and approval of the value that your unique personality and combination of talents and abilities represents, does not pass; it is constant. They are there for you to appreciate, to draw strength from, and to develop. Presentations are ephemeral. Personal sovereignty is solid and steadfast. Recovering and reasserting it are central.
[1] Taken from http://www.aacc.cc.md.us/com111/mod3.htm
