Paying the Price– My First Webinar

Remember the first time you stood out on the end of the high-dive board, all your classmates lined up behind jeering you on, and the blue waters of the pool about five hundred metres below you?

Well, of course you closed your eyes and pictured yourself in the Olympics, tried to remember everything they’d told you about keeping yourself straight and your legs together, put on your bravest face, saw your life flash before your eyes, and bravely hurled yourself into space. And you lived. And did it again. And again.

So, as a lawyer of thirty seven years, and before that a teacher of ten, now a speaker, writer and coach, providing an online teaching experience should have been a cinch, right? No.

For me, it wasn’t about the content, but it was fear of all the finicky little things that could go wrong when using a new platform. This is true of every new venture. Someone wiser than I said, “If you’re not afraid, you probably don’t understand.”

Like anything new and challenging, the limiting factor is always the fear of the screw-up. Of making yourself look like a fool in front of all your friends. In this regard, we never really ever leave our teen years. This is all the more so when you hold yourself out to be some kind of expert on professionalism and communication. And perhaps even more so if your age suggests, with little justification, that you should know better.

So, I did what any self-respecting “expert” should do: I stuck to subject matter I had down cold, and wrote and re-wrote and re-wrote again all the material, built the slide deck and tore it apart, reworked it and revised it again and again. I read every “tips and tricks” web page I could find about Zoom presentations, created a list, printed it, stuck it on my computer screen, and did a dry run. And another one, and another, and another, for most of a day. And then I inflicted this on friends and family. Their comments were insightful, useful, and mercifully kind.

Finally, the last dry run went without a hitch, and I felt pretty good about the whole thing. Of course, that was a mistake, because Murphy had been waiting patiently in the shadows.

On the day of the Zoom conference, things unravelled. Somehow the slide deck was seen by some, and not others. A few found the link did not work. Muting and unmuting worked indifferently. But somehow, all of my kind friends hung in until the end, and many have sent me thoughtful and merciful feedback. Many even asked for follow up.

So, what does this all tell me? It simply reinforces the lessons my mother taught me when I was learning to ride a bicycle several sizes too big for my seven years: pull the thing out of the brambles where I had landed, and get on the bike again. And again. And again. Until magically I was racing down the gravel road like the wind.

These are indeed tough and challenging times, but there are boundless opportunities for those of us who can draw up the courage to try things which are uncomfortable. Those of us who are innovative and disciplined will come out of this far better than before.

And I know that you’re one of those!