How My Mind (Conscious and Unconscious) Prepares for a Presentation

A lovely snowfall outside while I work inside

It’s a cozy afternoon, with snow falling steadily (our first of the season). I would like to be reading a novel and drinking tea, but I’m knee deep in defenses—projection, denial, rationalization, identification. I’m preparing for an up-coming University of Washington presentation, and I’m translating academic ideas into user-friendly material.

The workshop is for supervisors of graduate students in speech-language pathology and audiology, and the specific focus is one of the most distasteful tasks: talking to a student about poor progress.

Who likes to be the bearer of bad news? Only sadists, perhaps, or masochists, or people who resolve their own insecurities by being hurtful to others, or maybe some ordinary people who are having a bad day, or…

This is why I’m studying defenses. Defenses are the way we react to anxiety to keep the discomfort at bay. No psychiatric diagnosis required—we all have defenses, and the best we can do is strive to keep them functional and, to the extent possible, recognizable.

We deny truth in the face of overwhelming grief or fear.

We (over)identify with someone we admire and lose track of differences.

We don’t realize we feel angry but we recognize it in someone else (or so we think – is it really their feeling or ours?)

Part of the key to communicating difficult news is to examine our own attitudes and beliefs, to recognize the feelings we have that might color our understanding or shape our response. Part of the responsibility that comes with authority—and the power to say to someone, “You are making inadequate progress”—is willingness to take care of our own side of the street.

Are we frustrated and angry and likely to treat someone hostilely?

Are we so afraid of hurting someone that we cannot speak honestly?

Are we carrying an old hurt or trauma that makes us either cruel to others or overly protective?

Do we have trouble sitting quietly while someone processes the information we’ve given?

Is it hard for us to balance compassion with limit setting?

In the end, our skill in presenting bad news depends on boundaries and balance: we need a compassionate but separate self, able to offer support without assuming all responsibility, able to put aside a private agenda or a personal story that gets triggered, able to stay in the present with truth and good judgment.

I am looking forward to the presentation, and I’m not aware of feeling particularly anxious. But last night I dreamt I was standing before a motley group of unfriendly children and adults, and we weren’t past introductions before people started complaining and leaving. I couldn’t speak because my throat was filled with an unidentifiable plastic gunk.

So although my conscious mind told me I was not anxious, my unconscious mind said otherwise. As you see, we are all human, and we all cope with our anxiety, one way or another.

Questions for Reflection: What do you notice in yourself when you are anxious or feeling pressured? Have you been in the position of having to communicate bad news to someone? What helps you do this well and what puts you off balance? What is helpful to you when you have to receive difficult news?

Writing Prompts: “When someone is giving me bad news, I want that person to ______” (then keep writing); “I can tell I’m anxious when ______” (then keep writing); “If I need to have a difficult conversation with someone, I can prepare by ______” (then keep writing).

Tagged as: anxiety, audiology, bad news, defenses, presentation, snow, speech-language pathology