Dissertations, Academia and Public Speaking

Last week I attended my first dissertation defense! It was during my residency in my doctoral program in Education. My program is a low residency program of study, meaning that the learners come together four times a year for face-to-face seminars and lectures while the rest of the year they work on their own. So when the cohorts come together it is a non-stop intensive time where everyone is pretty much involved in everyone else’s work, as well as their own. The seminars, discussion groups, and lectures are attended by almost all of the learners as well as faculty and staff. And when one of us is defending it is a must see, one of us actually made it! This particular dissertation defense had six faculty, the dean, several administrators and about 15 doctoral students.

It was truly a public event; I was excited and nervous to see what a particularly brilliant colleague would present, sure that I would feel intimidated on what his 300 page thesis would be like in comparison to my own work. The defense started with opening comments by the chair of the committee and then the doctoral candidate started into his PowerPoint presentation.  Within seconds my heart stopped and my skin started to crawl, every slide was a full written page of documentation, paragraph long quotes, long lists of numbers and statistics. The slides were impossible to read and had no visual graphing to help comprehension. And worst of all the presenter read his slides!!!! How was it possible that at this level we were still seeing a nervous and unskilled oral presentation? I pondered this through out the defense. Is the higher education system, from undergraduate to the doctoral level, still producing academics that have immense difficulty in communicating their own work?

I think in general we educators tend to still consider oral competency as a skill rather than a form of reasoning. Oral presentations do have platform skills and techniques but in academia orality is much more about relying on the spoken word rather than the written word to communicate meaning. It does not replace writing but it is much more than simply stating one’s written work.  I think speaking publicly does ask an individual a form of logic and knowledge that is different from writing and in some ways more complex.Oral reasoning must give meaning to data within a certain amount of time and space and this is no easy task.

I keep wondering about how the logic and sense-making aspect of speaking can be better integrated into the higher education curriculum rather than the 10-20 minute group presentations that seem to abound throughout American colleges. And whether this would make an impact on academics presenting their work in public. More than a personal quest, I do believe that public speaking and oral communication as art and logic should be a part of higher education all the way up to the dissertation defense and beyond.


Baby Talk

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LMzwAEI56-4[/youtube]

Turns out, you don’t even need words for effective oral communication…just the ability to participate in a particular speech genre. Since I can’t stop watching this video, I am featuring it, and a couple of other babies, here in my first blog post. Mini Preacher (MP) is interesting on a number of levels, most immediately though in terms of speech genre (see Bakhtin). In the absence of language, an analysis of MP’s sermon is in large part necessarily an analysis of genre. Did you see how Mini Preacher (MP) used his chubby arms to sum up his toddler point? MP’s performance makes explicit the dialogic and collaborative nature of audience, both real and imagined (“addressivity”). The audience’s applause, cheers, and calls to “preach on!” are integral to his speech. He doesn’t need actual words to whip the house into a frenzy as the audience fills them in for him, closing his presentation with “in the name of Jesus.”

As audience for BPL groups, we are also dialogic partners,  interlocutors in the Bahktinian sense. I am a stand in for faculty and class mates, who are themselves stand in’s for the board of investors out in the “real world.” As a new Fellow working with BPL courses, about to run the gauntlet of my first rehearsal season (my first 2 are scheduled for today in fact), the MP video also asks me to consider the business speech genre in my own (non-evaluative) assessments of student group presentations. The basic characteristics of evangelist speech are clear and recognizable in MP’s performance, even if not explicitly catalogued here. What though are the specific speech genres of the business world and transactions? Are they captured in the cool confidence and rational assertiveness of the E-trade baby? Are they catalogued somewhere? And if so, would such genre characteristics prove useful standards to judge the BPL presentations by?

As a parent I am interested in oral communication and social development. Specifically the raced/classed/gendered ways in which I/we consciously and unconsciously facilitate the social and dialogical process that consciousness develops from. Babies are also our mirrors. Children tell us a lot about our specific language-mediated proclivities, from Mini Preacher’s screaming exertions, to my toddler’s constant asking of questions he already knows the answer to (clearly a parenting pedagogy of mine in need of revision!). Thus an analysis of infant (and student) speech is also an analysis of self (and of discipline).

As a social psychologist, I am reminded of the vast literature on persuasion that exists (under the umbrella of social influence) that could usefully be applied to the prepping of oral presentations.

As all three, I am looking forward to more opportunities to consider the cute side of language and social development.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vupEpNjCuY[/youtube]

Palm-of-the-Hand Speeches

Throughout his long career, Japanese Writer Yasunari Kawabata wrote a series of short short stories, which he referred to as his “Palm-of-the-Hand Stories.” Kawabata produced 146 of these stories, becoming a true “palmist,” even if his notoriety in the West is focused on his novels.  As described by the editors of the published collection, Kawabata believed that these little stories expressed the “essence of his art.”

I first read these stories in an experimental prose writing course a bunch of years ago, and the concept of these one-to-three page gems intrigued me. I was reminded of these stories this past semester, when, through my work supporting Advanced Accounting, a Communication Intensive Course, I found myself confronting palm-of-the-hand speeches. When I first learned that students had only two-to-three minutes to present their assigned material, I was skeptical. Two minutes to discuss a contemporary concept in accountancy?

As the semester progressed, and I struggled to help students condense the finer points of recording intangible assets on balance sheets, I necessarily focused on the benefits of these l’il speeches. Just as Kawabata’s stories are deeply complex while also being succinct, shorter speeches have the same potential. Translator J. Martin Holman could be talking about ACC 4100 speeches when he writes of the relationship between Kawabata’s small stories and his longer works:

“The palm-of-the-hand story appears to have been Kawabata’s basic unit of composition from which his longer works were built, after the manner of linked-verse poetry, in which discrete verses are joined to form a longer poem, the linkage between each dependent on subtle shifts as the poem continues.”

While longer speaking opportunities are still crucial for our students, these palm-of-the-hand speeches can give students a better familiarity with the basic units of composition required for larger speeches. I used to think of two minute speeches as a good exercise in summarizing, editing and brevity, but they do have their structural benefits, as well.  According to Holman, Kawabata mastered this form using certain elements (the same ones that would make any Palmist speech exiting); “juxtaposition of images,” “unique perception,” and “intriguing and memorable” plots– not reductions, but distillations of larger worlds.

There are clear positives and negatives to assigning such a short presentation, but on certain days, the luxury of having a lot of time to concentrate on just two minutes of material did seem like a very Palmist exercise. Students themselves, however, don’t always see the merits of this, and, rather than viewing it as the essence of their art, are more apt to view the assignment as the gnat buzzing around their schoolwork.  How might it be possible to elevate and enliven these palm-of-the-hand speeches to the place that Kawabata realized they deserve?

Let’s talk about talking

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0Ti-gkJiXc&feature=related[/youtube]

The above video has been making the rounds of progressive blogs recently.  It features Jay Smooth, a popular New York hip-hop radio host, giving a brief lesson on how best to approach a racially-charged conversation.  In a quick three minutes,  Smooth gives several witty examples of conversational traps to avoid, effectively presenting the difference between the two broad categories of racial discussion:  the “what they did” conversation versus the “what they are” conversation.   The video demonstrates the best way to “call out” racist behavior without leading the conversation into name-calling, by focusing on specific words and actions (“what they did”) rather than drawing broad conclusions (“what they are”).

While Smooth’s clever lecture/sermon focuses on racial issues, it also functions essentially as a primer on how to engage difficult issues with critical intelligence, and as such it has captured the attention of communication-intensive educators (that’s us). According to this interview on NPR, the video has become a hit among college professors, who use Smooth’s rant to help introduce ideas about effective oral communication.  Because the video is hip, funny, and easily understandable, it seems like a decent way to get students talking about talking.

As I’ve noticed in my own classes,  difficulties with in-class discussions are not always related to shy, silent students. Oftentimes, I’ve had boisterous groups that have LOTS to say, but don’t often have the most effective tools for oral communication at their disposal, and the result can be an awkward, pointless (and, at worst, offensive) discussion.  After all, there are many ways to talk about any given issue, but our job is to promote a very specific kind of academic discussion that is most likely very different from the average student’s everyday mode of communication.

Smooth’s video is certainly a great starting point for a classroom discussion about arguments, evidence, and rhetorical strategy, but I think it also provides an opportunity for us, as educators, to begin thinking about our own role in teaching students how to effectively “speak up” in class.  What other tools can we use to help students create meaningful, civil in-class discussions?  How can we get students not just to talk, but to talk with confidence and authority, avoiding the “rhetorical Bermuda Triangle” described in the video?  And finally, is Smooth available for guest lectures?

Accent reduction….redux

In a recent Business Policy rehearsal, we were discussing anxieties about public speaking when one group member made the following statement:

“I’m concerned about my accent. The only way to get a good job in the U.S., is to not have an accent.”

I was stunned…. firstly, because this student did not have an accent that was impeding her ability to communicate effectively; and secondly, because I had never heard that this attribute would prevent someone from getting a “good” job.

The Baruch Campus is incredibly diverse, multilingual campus. Everyone has an accent of some sort, right? In this global economy, could this attribute truly prevent one from getting a job?

I bring this issue up again, link it to previous Cac.ophony thread discussions, the Baruch Teaching Blog, and Baruch resources…

A pertinent and persistent student issue!

VOCAT Switcheroo: Assessing the Assessor

A few weeks ago, I logged on to VOCAT for the first time, and as watched the video of a student’s rehearsal for their presentation, I was surprised to hear my own voice. I was sitting near the camera, and focused on the students as they went through their Powerpoint slides. Maybe because the camera was pointed towards them, at the time of the recording I was unaware that I was also recording myself.

And this made for a kind of unexpected self-assessment, along with the student assessment I was prepared to do. I’ve often wondered if my voice is too low, if I repeat myself too much, if what I’m saying makes any sense, if what I’m saying is more helpful than confusing to my students. And I realized, listening to myself talk to a student on the VOCAT video, that I’ve spent six years of graduate school trying to get better at absorbing what I read, and better at writing clearly. But I haven’t put any sustained or rigorous effort into getting better at speaking.

For me, the VOCAT incident, the unexpected switch of the assessment tool back on the assessor, made me realize how alone I have felt with this part of teaching. The first day of your adjunct job: the door shuts behind you, it is just you and students. A professor visits my class for one session during the semester, sometimes they don’t stay for the whole class. Their written assessment is usually generous and they’ve all talked with me after the class to offer encouragement and the wisdom of their experience. But, you know, the rest of the time, it is just you in there. Talking and talking. Wondering if the students are falling asleep because they’ve just eaten lunch, or is it the lulling drone of my voice? I know there are books and articles out there I could be reading on how to effectively engage a class. And I’ve sat in on other professor’s classes to see what I pick up from the way they engage a class. George Shulman at NYU Gallatin showed me how effective it is to value every student’s contribution, repeating it, rephrasing it, writing it on the board. Heidi Kruger at the New School held me spellbound with her intense, low whisper. Sekou Sundiata at the New School moved around the class like we were the orchestra and he was conducting us.

But, what works for me, and for my students, on this particular subject? I hadn’t really focused on that so much. Which is weird, given how, you know, important oral communication skills are in teaching.  Should the VOCAT assessment tool be turned on teachers? Well, I wouldn’t volunteer. But, when confronted with it, I thought it showed me some things that I should be aware of.

This brings me to the connection between writing and speaking. At the recent WAC conference, several people brought up the fact that writing often, in different forms, helps people become better writers. Speaking about writing also improves writing.  We talk about students ‘finding their own voice.’ One impediment to that might be that students are reading authors whose voices are quite different than their own. Often when I’m working with students on their presentation, I’ll ask them to summarize or draw a conclusion from their research. They articulate clear, original, logically organized claims aloud. But, when it comes to the formal work, they leave this out. Why? The answer I’ve heard more than once was, “But, that is just my opinion.”

What I want students to do, what I’ve heard other teachers say they want students to do, is enter a conversation with the authors they cite. What I’ve seen happen too often is a student articulating their own view, then summarizing an author’s view, using the author’s own style. How can we yoke them together?

One possible way might be to value thought when it is articulated aloud, not just in print. And one way to do this might be to film it, to actually turn the light and focus on recording speaking a thought, the way writing records a thought.

At the WAC meeting, Thomas Meechum and Karen Gregory’s documentary about the writing process in professor Michele Pacht’s class showed students responding to questions about their opinions about graffiti. I wondered if the heightened attention of the camera on the spoken thoughts helped the students to value their thoughts enough to commit them to print. I wonder if I should review the recording of my voice, talking to my students, as many times as I am reviewing the drafts of my dissertation proposal. I kind of think I should.

“Questions about silent-language acquisition in a digital environment”

For those of you who can’t resist speculating on the (in)communicative futures of the facebook generation, Mark Bauerlein has an interesting opinion piece in the Wall Street Journal:

Why Gen-Y Johnny Can’t Read Nonverbal Cues: An emphasis on social networking puts younger people at a face-to-face disadvantage.

Draft Learning Goals for Writing and Speaking

I was reminded today that I once drafted a set of learning goals for writing and speaking at the undergraduate level for a project headed up by our office of advisement and orientation. While these goals implicitly inform the curricular support and development work of the institute, they have not been codified beyond the document I created in 2006 (before I learned about Bloom’s taxonomy). These goals have not seen the light of day beyond their very limited original context. With that, I thought I’d post them for discussion. Take a look and let us know if you find these useful and/or whether you’d recommend revisions. Here we go:

By the end of their undergraduate experience students should be able to:

  • comfortably pose pertinent questions to faculty both in and out of class
  • demonstrate proficiency in a number of everyday written genres (email, letter, etc.)
  • demonstrate sensitivity to audience in oral and written communication – write and speak in a manner appropriate to audience – articulate similarities and differences in addressing different audiences (email to peer vs. email to faculty, conversation with parent vs. conversation with prospective employer)
  • demonstrate awareness that all communication is purposeful – each individual communication is meant to accomplish a particular goal or set of goals – sensitivity to purpose
  • grasp rhetorical purpose of own written work (what is this paper, email, memo, etc. meant to accomplish? What do I need it to do? What should it accomplish?)
  • articulate how they might go about accomplishing purpose of given communication (in order to accomplish X in my email to my professor, I need to make clear that Y and establish Z before making the argument that A)
  • work responsibly and productively as a member of a group – to communicate appropriately with all group members
  • comfortably speak before an audience – impromptu and prepared presentations
  • articulate own understanding of how they can become better communicators (what do I need to work on to become a better writer/speaker?)

Discuss.

David Birdsell’s Symposium Closing

In another of our series of videos from the 9th Annual Symposium, David Birdsell, Dean of Baruch’s School of Public Affairs, offers an incisive and cascading summation of the day’s conversation about “audience.”

Here’s Lookin At You, Kid…or Not.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRAcZ2rTGPg&feature=related[/youtube]

I love this quirky little how-to clip, mostly because the audio doesn’t match up to the video, making poor Leila look like she needs her own mandated visit to the house of corrections. But I can relate to Leila and her message, and I’m willing to admit that I stumbled upon this video in a moment of desperation, when I was brainstorming different approaches to this question of encouraging solid eye contact in oral communicating.

As most of us have probably discovered by now, when we’re providing feedback on speeches, merely repeating “you need to make more eye contact” doesn’t do the trick. (And really, why should it?) Most of the speakers we work with know full well that eye contact is something they should shoot for—they’ve seen this on speech evaluation forms and read about it dutifully in their Intro to Public Speaking class way back when. But if they commit this same “offense” in every presentation they make—staring at the PP screen, or at the floor, or at their hands, or note cards—when does the practice actually come in?

And, just as importantly, how do we invigorate our own approach to this thorny delivery snag? Some days, “make more eye contact” becomes the easy go-to, that dull phrase you know you’ll probably say before the student even begins. But isn’t commenting on eye contact just another way of saying that they didn’t make a connection with their audience? If we wanted to get all Eckhart Tolle on this post, we could extend it into the idea of being fully present (which has plenty of resonances in actor training). We all know how magical it can be when someone gives really great eye—that mixture of confidence, care, and connection– but how is it best learned?

I’ve tried a few new things in my recent quest to investigate the power of the Connecting Eyes. In the classroom, I’ve become more emboldened to push away the chairs and try out some of the better eye contact exercises that I know of, forcing people to get used to going eyeball-to-eyeball. Some of these exercises transform the room into a sort of communications gym class, which is a little hard to get used to, but not a bad thing at all. Does this have more successful outcomes in student performance? Hard to tell, exactly. But it certainly increases comfort and community among the students.

And during my BPL sessions with student groups, I’ve changed my approach. Instead of allowing the students to run through their entire presentations before I provide my feedback, I now occasionally stop them mid-stream, prompting them to re-do an entire section, this time focusing on, say, sustained eye contact. I know some of you out there have run your practice sessions like this for quite a while, but I’m just now catching on to its real benefits. I had been skeptical of the logic of isolating one element and potentially distracting the speaker with it, but I’m now thinking of these sessions as true rehearsals; if they can’t “run through” their work multiple times, what are the chances that a pattern of poor delivery will be broken?