We were prepared to hear and accept what the different experts had to say. One team after the other had been carefully lined-up to come and actively engage us on different approaches. Each group was confident that its method would do the trick: some arrogantly showcased different methods and tools; others boldly displayed various skills and techniques, while other teams loudly shared plain expertise.
But, the display of creativity and innovation was minimal. The fact that each team was given precisely 20 minutes to deliver their plan of action was truly a blessing because there is no way we could have stomached any of that stale experience for much longer.
It got to a point where it really dawned on me that even though the diagnosis was spot on, the remedy was not necessarily smartly packaged.
Once in a while throughout the process, I would from the corner of my eye, observe the chairperson’s reaction. I kept a close watch of her body language and from my observation I could definitely tell that she was not impressed at all – it was neither expertise nor experience she was looking for. She was in search of passion – genuine passion for sheerness.
As the last team – led by a tall gentleman who kept reminding the audience that he is a professor in the filed – was half-way through their presentation titled “Be the noise”, I could sense that the chairperson had had enough and was no longer willing to listen. She was too busy crafting and polishing a response. The thing with this lady is that she thinks hard and loud. More often than not, whenever one listens attentively, one can almost “hear” her considered thoughts as they are neatly processed in her forever organised mind. Over the years, she has habitually trained herself not only think about what to say before saying it, but to also think clearly about how to say it. Also, her considered utterances are always timely – she interrupts no one, no matter what – thanks to her solid political experience. What a diplomatic and polite individual!
She abruptly disrupted my thoughts. Suddenly, she nudged my foot under the table.
I fully understand the meaning of this cue by now: whenever she secretly kicks my foot under the table she has an unyielding urge to share some private thoughts with me on a piece of paper. So, I slowly passed her a pencil (she always uses a pencil to scribble these notes during a meeting – and at all times she remembers to erase them afterwards).
“What is the gentleman’s full name again?” she scribbled hastily.
I quickly scribbled his full name on the same paper.
I then leaned forward closer to her chair (perhaps too close) as I cautiously and silently passed the paper back to her – with no intention to distract the flow of the presentation as I whispered “Professor”; I sarcastically reminded her in a miming manner.
She gave me a soft nod of gratitude, smiled sarcastically with a raised eyebrow as she erased everything from the piece of paper before she slowly scribbled – this time in a slow and covert manner: “What perfume are you wearing?”
“Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel”, I smilingly scribbled back, wondering why she was calculatedly yet directly changing the subject.
She read my notes leisurely and openly, taking her time making it clear that she was deriving more pleasure from reading the words on the piece of paper than focusing.
Then, she lifted her eyes up from the paper, as if it did not matter anymore. She gave me a long squinted gaze then slowly shut her dizzy eyes as she took a premeditated gasp of the delicate scent. She intensely inhaled before resting her head which was nicely wrapped in a purple African fabric on the high swivelling leather chair as if to self-hypnotise with the pure sweetness of the light fragrance that was barely discernible to me.
It was now my turn to nudge her foot under the table, probably harder than I had intended to.
She unwillingly “regained consciousness”, exhaled and straightened her back, as she returned her eyes to the projected presentation and she picked up the pencil which was now lying dormant on the table.
It took her a few seconds before she reached for the same piece of paper.
“Subtle”, she scribbled back in capital letters – this time she didn’t bother to erase the word as she turned her attention back to the animated professor who was now going through the concluding slides, still pacing up and down pompously.
She left me wondering.
“Thank you, any questions”, that is all I heard.
We both realized that the professor had come to the end of his presentation. It was time for the chairperson, on behalf of the panel to either provide some feedback or ask questions.
In a very gentle and collected manner she said: “Professor, due to my medical background, I have one concern about noise. Noise does not only damage the senses, eardrums in particular, it kills the message. Personally, I prefer subtlety,” she stated firmly. Do not get me wrong, I do want to communicate at all times, but noise is an option I would rather steer clear of at this point. Something can be subtle yet effective and kind, no?”
At this point I was caught up between amusement and curiosity. Her well-crafted comment was painfully witty, intriguingly clear and honest: she was not buying the professor’s concept!
I almost laughed when I saw the look on the professor’s moustached face – he was speechlessly pale and overtly shattered. His neatly shaved moustache was now unappealing as it stood up like a mane!
The chairperson despises the idea of embarrassing people openly and intentionally, so I made an effort not to laugh. I stalwartly adopted a self-controlled stance. I did not even smile. I just sat there as I carefully and seriously absorbed this mentoring moment.
The professor was no longer animated at this point. He had gotten the message loud and clear.
The effect of the chairperson’s subtle words was noticeably effective because by now he had turned into a still and quiet creature who boasted less about his title than he did at the beginning of the presentation.
He left irately with his team.
I realized that we still did not have a clear solution on how best to raise the awareness of the organisations’ activities, on how to capture the global audience’s attention, on how to maximally utilise a variety of communication platforms available on the market in today’s ever-changing environment.
We were the last people to walk out of the room. As we walked down the hallway, I fearfully enquired from the chairperson what the next steps were.
“Will I not be wasting time and money appointing an external service provider? Perhaps the next step is to do this in-house. Why don’t you craft a strategy together with an implementation plan? I am willing to put my head on the block and that is my final decision. I learnt a valuable lesson today during that laborious and mind-numbing three hour experience”, she rhetorically and decisively stated.
She quickly adjusted her tone as she sweetly said: “Now come on Miss Coco, let us go and explore the duty free section. Perhaps they have some of that subtle perfume you are wearing”.As we walked into the crowded shop, we got swallowed by the noise. We become just two ordinary individuals amongst the many busy shoppers who were looking for items to purchase. We were competing with everyone else for the shop assistant’s attention who was working extra-hard to be helpful yet was extremely overwhelmed.
Talk about delicate senses, how perceptive they are . . . !
#adjusted tones#
Leave a Reply