Speaking to an audience of people who don't share your accent.

This week's tip of the week contains another strategy to adopt when speaking to an audience of people who don’t share your accent.

In previous tips I've suggested you:

• speak more slowly than usual.
• allow time at the beginning for the audience to "tune in" to your accent, before you get to the meat of your speech.
• explicitly address the accent difference, so your audience don't spend time wondering "what is that accent" and not foccussed on your content.

One more tip:

• Consider putting key words on a Whiteboard, Flipchart, PowerPoint or Keynote slide.

This can do three things.

First, it can help your audience "tune in" to your accent and make the connection between the word they see and how you say it.

Second, it is especially valuable where you are using a technical term, or a word they may be unfamiliar with.

Third, it can prevent an audience mis-hearing you all together.

For example of point one - if you are talking about "Transporting Privacy Norms to Different Cultures" - your audience can hear how you pronounce the words "transport" and "privacy" while seeing the word written in front of them (this would also be a good time to address the difference in pronunciation directly)

For example of points 2 and 3: if you were talking about your Whakapapa to an audience in the US or UK, it would be worth displaying the term, explaining its pronunciation and meaning. It's a word which isn't in common use outside New Zealand, and is liable to be misheard.

Do you have any other strategies that work well for you?

Being alive twice

I've been very, very busy this past month, and am amazed to see how long it's been since I've blogged. But I wanted to share this link:

Zadie Smith's excellent speech "Speaking In Tongues" published in the New York Review of Books talks about what it is to maintain separate voices, and separate identities.

The phrase that leapt out at me was when she described her life as a new university student when she still could adopt the dialect, voice and speech of her upbringing in East London, and segue to her Oxbridge voice.

She described it as like "being alive twice"

She went on to look at Shakespeare and Barack Obama - the kind of voice we want in our politicians and our artists and how we have different expectations. And how an audience may distrust someone who is too adept at matching the speech of the audience - when empathy and a good ear can come across as manipulation and insincerity.

Here in New Zealand we mocked Jim Bolger, who as Prime Minister instinctively began adapting his accent to that of the person he was speaking to. I can do the same - although when I am uncomfortable the English part of my accent predominates. It's like I bring up the 'poshest' part under pressure, as I role play the lawyer I once was.

I was a traveller as a child - 4 schools in 4 towns in the 5 years between age 9 and 14 (all in New Zealand), and we'd moved twice before I got to primary school in the first place. As an adult I've moved too.

My habit of observing others, rather than participating immediately, is the habit of someone who is aware they come in as an outsider, and the instinctive accent change may come in part from a desire to fit-in.

However, I've learned that being the observer, means I'm alert and watching, and others don't always appreciate being observed - especially if my pleasant mask give little away about what I'm really thinking. The neutrality trained into me, the inhibition of anger, the instinct to reserve judgment was also developed also as a lawyer advising different parties in open council meetings, can make people less comfortable - and distrustful.

Like everything, it has its advantages and disadvantages. I thought I was very open, but have been learning I am closed at the same time.

I've often spoken of why I left the law - part of it was that I wanted to live in an optimistic mindset rather than constantly looking for problems and finding fault. But learning to be more open and less guarded is another plus.