Sherie Griffiths

May 27, 2010

‘Would You Listen To Yourself?!’

Babies start learning to speak even before they learn to live without nappies.  So why are so many adults embarrassed when they hear themselves?

I recently saw a very capable, confident man who, under normal circumstances, can happily chat away to complete strangers, look as though he was about to curl up in a cringeing ball when we threatened to play back the interview we’d just recorded with him.  He isn’t the exception that proves the rule – he is the rule!

I completely understand the feeling.  I avoided listening back to my earliest podcasts – so I was shocked not so long ago, when I ran across the very first and realised how unnatural it sounded! When I was told, several years ago (by a friend with years of broadcast experience) that I really had to listen back to a recording I’d made, I was horrified – I kept putting it off! When I eventually forced myself into it, it was very uncomfortable; but in time, I got used to it.  These days, it’s just part of my job.

Another part of that job is to help clients get over any fears they might have about speaking in front of people, recording and (often the most challenging) listening to the results.  Since watching that client go through the familiar reactions, I’ve been wondering: what is it that we’re actually afraid of in that situation?

The human voice conveys feeling better than anything else – which is why it’s such a powerful communication tool.  We pick up over five times more information from what someone says than what they write, because we can hear so much which is lost in the printed word – tone, inflexion, pace and so on.  All this speaks volumes about how they’re feeling.  Very experienced speakers, like politicians – and (dare I say it?) presenters – learn to convey the emotions they want the listener to pick up.  Unfortunately for those of us who talk for a living, plenty of people can also hear a fake a mile off.  So we have to believe what we’re saying – even if it means suspending disbelief.

To give you an example: I went into the studio one afternoon last year in turmoil because I was waiting for some personal news.  All I had to do was to record some fairly simple links, but when I wasn’t screwing them up – getting all the right words, but not necessarily in the right order – the tone was all wrong.  In the end, I had to push everything else aside and pretend all was fine.  At times like that, presentation is an acting job and, like an actor, you have to ‘believe in the role’ if you want to be convincing.

Less than ten years ago, I was terrified of speaking in public – let alone hearing the results!  For me before I overcame that fear, I suspect it was about revealing what I didn’t want to show – laying myself open.  I don’t suppose I’m alone there – so perhaps the fear of listening to ourselves has something to do with not wanting to hear what we’ve revealed?

I think it also has to do with the trouble so many of us have, looking at ourselves through someone else’s eyes – all too often, we’re our own toughest critics and all we see are the negatives.  We might not be mad keen on what we see in the mirror, but it tends to be a private discomfort.  When we look at a photo or video, we’re seeing what everyone else can see – albeit through thorn-covered specs!  It’s the same with the voice.

This isn’t something that automatically goes away because you turn pro.  Just watch the actors who sit steadily looking away from the screen in a tv interview while the audience watches a clip of their latest film; and I know of at least one highly experienced radio presenter who can’t stand listening to himself (I don’t know why because I think he’s fantastic – he obviously hears something I don’t).

The other side of the coin is that so many of us buttoned-up Brits are pre-programmed to self-deprecate – even when we secretly think we look or sound alright, we’re embarrassed to admit it – in case we’re seen to be ‘big-headed’!

I’m not suggesting you should learn to love the sound of your own voice – only make friends with it – which starts with learning to accept it, faults and all.  That isn’t to say you listen uncritically.  From my point of view, the easiest ways to help a client improve on their presentation technique is for them to spot where it needs improving.  It’s all about learning to be more objective and to give yourself constructive criticism, rather than being hypercritical.  I still don’t like my estuary vowels or the fact that, if I’m not careful, I tend to use ‘ok’ too much; but it’s ok – OOPS – see what I mean?! – provided I don’t lapse into broad ‘Essix-gewl’ and start ‘okaying’ in every sentence!

Seriously, for some people, learning to listen to themselves is just a matter of acquiring a new skill and practising it.  It can go deeper though.  The voice is so individual, so personal. It’s the product of our lives to date – where we’ve lived, where we’ve been educated, our families, friends etc.  So for some people, whether or not they can listen to themselves comes down to how comfortable they are with themselves.  If, deep down, you don’t really like who you are or where you come from, you’ll shy away from hearing the evidence, won’t you?

The power of speech, especially in business, is greatly underestimated.  As I’ve said before, 21st-century commerce is all about relationships and relationships in all their forms start with attraction.  One of the most effective and lasting ways of attracting people, in my experience, is by talking to them – engaging with them on a one-to-one basis, whether through conversation, live presentation or recording.  We wouldn’t send out a flyer, brochure or any other written communication without proof-reading – and yet so many people (I used to be one of them) deliver everything from elevator pitches to full-length presentations, even recordings, without ever having listened to themselves properly.  Becoming comfortable with hearing yourself opens up a whole new raft of possibilities – and I can tell you firsthand, it’s also very liberating!

March 24, 2010

The First Link In A Thirty-Year Chain

Extract from “On Sound Foundations” – Chapter 3: “Learning The Hard Way”

This extract is about my first day at grammar school, in Chorleywood, Herts.  I’d been desperate to go there for more than a year and had been counting the days for the past month!

 “At last, the great day came: 11th September 1979.

“We arrived at eleven in the morning, after a three-hour drive around the North Circular, a traffic jam, road works – and the obligatory argument in the front seats about being lost. 

“By Midday, Mum and Dad had to leave – and by half-past two, I wanted to go home. 

“As I’ve said, I never really got used to boarding, but at least most of the staff at Dorton House were approachable, I had friends  and I’d felt I belonged.  I might not always have wanted to admit the belonging bit, but I’d had a place.  Here, though, everything was different – and not in the way I thought it would be.  I’d looked forward to “different” as in “new” and “exciting”.  What I found was what we so often find at the beginning of a major life change, even one we desperately want; “different” as in “alien”. 

“Nothing was quite what I’d expected: the dormitory didn’t seem as comfortable as the room we’d stayed in when we visited; a lot of the staff came across as a bit fierce and not very patient; the “big girls” were really big; the new girls from other schools seemed strange – and even the girls who had been with me in Kent seemed to change as soon as they got to Herts. 

“Of course some of the strangeness wore off over time, but I never quite managed to shake the feeling that I really didn’t understand the rules in this place.  For years, every time I thought I’d cracked the code, someone would call me a “stupid child!” and I’d be left wondering, “So what am I supposed to do?”

“On that first night, I really didn’t want to be there.  Two and a half weeks (until the “long weekend”) might as well have been a year.  I felt so bad about having wished the holiday away!  The girls in my dormitory were friendly enough, but they all seemed to know what they were doing so much better than I did (I now realise most of them were probably just better bluffers).  It had been a miserable afternoon, being martialled around the grounds in a drizzle by a young member of staff who (it seemed to me) resented being landed with the task and the thought of the next day – more new rules, new people – new mistakes – terrified me!  So the last thing I wanted to do was smile.

“That was until eight o’clock, when someone put the radio on …”

As you may know, what followed was the first link – literally – in a chain which leads directly to the Savvy launch last year, to the book – and beyond.  What flowed from that link also perfectly illustrates the power of sound.  If you don’t know the background, you can find out more from my launch presentation on the Savvy Business Community Website.  Oh, yes – and the full story is in the book – of course!

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