Many of you may know that I've lead a multi-division Affirmative Action and diversity initiative (why I have that white streak in my hair). "Sensitivity training" for the most part, left people scared of each other and tiptoeing around on eggshells.
So imagine how I giggled when I saw this.
Sensitivity Training - The best video clips are here
Imagine, if you will. It's the Australian Open. Venus Williams is readying herself for a return volley. The commentators are, um, commenting about....her behind.
Now, I'm of two minds about this. The announcer, clearly a fan of Venus' assets (couldn't resist) left the door open for male announcers everywhere to wax prosaic (and suggestively) about women's bodies. Not a good thing. The other thing is a strange turn of mind (so follow me). World opinion about Black women has certainly changed to a state where Black men, still rapping about Black women as "bitches," "hos" or "skeezers" are being bypassed by other men who, startled by the beauty of Halle Berry, Beyonce, Garcelle Beauvais, Janet Jackson and others, are gaining appreciation for the beauty of the darker berries.
Interesting.
Cross-posted at linkedin.com
In the spirit of sharing, I thought I’d recount the scene of domestic holiday tranquility that was only marred by threats to my physical person...by my dear brothers (the cop and the part-time small arms dealer), who lamented that I purchased irresponsible (and loud) gfits for their hoard of children (the western contingent of the Chinese Army).
Their children call me Auntie Lita (or in the words of the less-than-verbal ones, Antee Yeeda) and they call my house Wonderland. It’s the place where the rules (time, space, propriety, courtesy, gravity) don’t apply. Anything can happen and usually does and now that I’ve trained them not to squeal on me (have just _one_ snow cone party…at 1 am…using real snow…and strange snow cone toppings like prickly pear cactus syrup, and they just can't be counted on to hold their water: they blabbed and I was punished by some stern-looking adults).
Now, each year, I expand my plan to further ensnare my brothers’ expanding tribes to my evil will. I have no shame: I can buy their undying devotion with an assortment of toys that are turning my brothers into tired, old men.
I love it.
One year, last I think, one brother attempted to thwart my plan. He called my cell while I was out shopping for his boys. He heard the reign of thunder that was the noisy backdrop for one particular toy I was handling. He told me he would make it painful and leave my entrails along an overpass with a sign as a warning to all other aunties to be afraid–-that it would be a public service to all fathers everywhere. I thought policemen weren’t supposed to threaten to murder people, but just so we’re all clear here: I got scared and scarpered away from that section of the toy department as fast as my shopping cart would go. I think there were scorch marks on the floor.
Now, here’s the lay of the land: there are 6 of them. Six! Two girls and four boys.
The girls are girlie girls (no help for it), so I got them art stuff (messy, staining art stuff) to help advance their creativity (and to help them redecorate their mother’s house). For their two brothers (boys’ boys) I selected monster trucks with realistic sound. These trucks transform into monsters (much like my nephews did when they saw them). One monster toy smokes enough to set off detectors!
For my other brother’s two boys (the Baby Gap/Little Einstein poster tots), I gotten them musical instruments–xylophone, drum and, oh yeah, emergency vehicles with lots of fussy parts and lots of noise. One other shopper in the store, a harried dad, suggested I consider witness protection. I remarked: “These are educational toys, sir” and sidled away in a pretend huff.
This...was...great.
Now, this means that, in order to give myself a fighting chance of survival I had to get excellent presents…for their wives. I’m now officially broke. It takes a lot of cheddar to manage this kind of deep-seated evil throughout the holidays.
One day, I’ll be made to pay. But not now, friends. Not now.
Entering an Auntie Protection Program
Lalit...er, Sven Svensen
For those of you who have been giggling at the fact that my beloved Kyo 7135 smartphone went up in a greasy puff of smoke (some foolishness about technology not lasting forever), you'll love this.
Just as I was unhooking the docking cradle and getting ready to say "bye-bye" to my trusty smartphone forever, I opened it up for one last look. The ugly "I'm dead, Jim" screen that I've been staring at for the last several weeks...was gone. It works. Now, at this point, Garland, who was nearby, said "Lalita, don't be fooled" likening it to the way a dead man can sit up and appear to sigh, he held my grubby mitts as he forced me to put it down and then he watched while I disconnected it.
Oh, the humanity.
Leverage... Cutting edge... Scalable... ...and the list goes on.
When did our business communication stop being authentic and start being a frantic race to leverage robust world-class business intel that offers flexible, yet scalable, capabilities to help achieve (I really wanted to say "leverage" again) potential and future stakeholder value?
Listening to what passes for business communication sometimes give me hives, like Frank Zappa's Valley Girl with its collection of "likes" and "totallys."
Fer sure.
We can do much better when speaking and writing to each other. We just don't. Gobbledygook, a kind of mutated chat or scribe to impress has become a nearly Olympian sport and is far less entertaining to witness. Many of us could use a Gobbledygook Book (a Dictionary of Acronyms Abbreviations Initializations & Esoteric Terminology) to keep track of the arcane terms we hear in meetings and, hell, on TV.
Use language that is clear and check in to make sure that your intended meaning is coming across. Trust me: people will cheer.
Read this article from Web Ink Now on gobbledygook in marketing. It's a good one.
Listen Now: 13:44
What do you mean you don't use PowerPoints...?
Hunkering down in my comfy chair with a steaming cuppa tea last night to re-read The Forgotten Half of Change: Achieving Greater Creativity through Changes in Perception by Luc de Brabandere, I smiled when I remembered how much I enjoyed the opening page the first time I read it. Seems Bill Gates was coming to Brussels and the head of Microsoft Belgium had organized a conference meeting with a thousand users and customers. Luc, a rock star in the consulting world, was going to be a presenter and would introduce Bill to the gathered throng. The evening before the conference, the MS Belgium head called, and it didn't go well...for him:
(Note to Self: be sure to post something on the book later. It's a wonderful example of how to use powerful questions to shape better enterprises and expand creativity and innovation.)"You've forgotten to send the slides of your presentation, and Bill Gates would like to see them," said the head of Microsoft Belgium.
My reply was immediate: "Most people in Belgium and France know full well that I never use slides. I prefer to practice the art of oratory as was done in old times. I've got clear ideas and I'm ready for my presentation tomorrow."
Silence.
"So...you have no slides?"
"No," I said for the second time. "The spoken work and the written word are two different things. I use both but I never mix them. I give speeches, and I write books. The ideas are the same, but the way I express them is different. When I speak, it's in real time. When I write, it's in delayed time--it's as if I were someone else."
Silence.
We can all agree that in the 20 years since Bob Gaskins and Dennis Austin sold their little program to Microsoft, business presentations (hell, all presentations) have become an endless testimony to our inability to communicate ideas that matter in ways that stick. They've become a horribly emotionless mashup of incomprehensible text, pictures, fades and spinning text than set dogs a-howling and babies crying.
They “suck rotten eggs” as Seth Godin points out in his e-book. But as the good people at Presentations Zen say:
"This is largely so because people do not know (or don’t care about) the difference between a well-written document and well-designed supporting visuals. PowerPoint users usually shoot for the middle and create a slideument, a “document” that would make your third-grade English teacher apoplectic with disgust and shame that you ever attended her class, and draw scowls of disapproval from anyone who makes a living as a designer or visual communicator."
A slidument to call my very own...mother would be proud
At this point, I remembered a strategic staffing course I took in B-School--a team project (which meant the strongest players did all of the work) which culminated in a presentation. We were graded on the PowerPoint presentation and I can remember the completely blank look on the prof's face when I suggested that we may not have any PowerPoints at all--that PowerPoint may not be the most effective way to communicate our ideas. He was horrified. Well, we did have PowerPoints and the prof suggested we turn in our slides for a grade. To make certain that he had all of our commentary on the slides (we didn't want to chance his memory), I added an extensive comments section to each slide as well as a slide for our bibliographical references, which generate a huge printed slidument.
It was painful, but informative the way we've commonly expected PowerPoint slides to be created. We got the highest grade for our work, but still.Godin challenges us to create presentations instead of PowerPoints, working to be sure that our ideas are solid, rather than ensuring that our slides are clever. He promotes
A few years ago, I started simplifying my PowerPoint presentations, first by putting together the presentation and then deciding how best to communicate my ideas. I find I tend to work best when I can see the white of my audience's eyes and combine discussion, presentation, stories and drawn representations. Immediately, that meant cutting my number of PowerPoints in half...and then, actually talking with the people who came to hear me speak.
Novel idea, that.
I'm not quite done with this topic. There's the issue of Pecha Kucha that I want to get into. I'll save that for another time. Looks like an interesting way to put Godin's exhortations to good use.
