Case of the Public Presentation and the "Real" Audience

When: April 4, 2016

Where: MSU Writing Center

Victims: 6 Peer Tutors & 1 WC boss & 1 straggler (English Dept. Head)

At 4:30 pm the rainclouds rolled into Bozeman, and as the first drops hit the pavement, I trundled into the building, pulling my windblown hair from my face. The blustery weather had dampened my plans; I wanted my targets primed and in a good mood, but even something as subtle as outdoor conditions could affect how they receive my spiel.

No matter; I came prepared. Earlier that weekend I had taken the time to bake 48 individual bribes cloaked in sugar and dark-chocolatey goodness. What exactly was I bribing people to do? To come to my presentation on style, of course. The email announcement—which included the mention of cookies—set the bait, and all I had to do was follow through and cinch the deal. My training taught me well: “In order to have goodwill…the rhetor has to understand the frame of mind of the audience. When the rhetor assesses the audience and incorporates the appropriate appeals, s/he appears to be motivated by the audience’s interests and needs” (Palczewski 154). This basic concept is regularly practiced by groups aiming to sucker college students into worthwhile activities; what better universal appeal could you use besides that which is directed towards the stomach?

Armed with cookies, I felt confident I could lure some otherwise-reluctant people to participate. Plus, I thought my cover was pretty decent: fellow tutor concerned about cracking the code of dense, unclear writing. I even straightened my hair and applied makeup that morning in the hopes of appearing semi-professional. And I had a secret plan.

Yup. The plan was so secret, it wasn’t even written out—it was just all in my head. Okay, so it wasn’t fully rehearsed either. This particular assignment presented a new challenge for me: interacting with the subjects rather than speaking from a memorized script. Those “cold” cases are certainly easier to work with—less potential for messiness.

Didn’t some famous guy say, “What can get messy, will get messy?” (Or you know—something along those lines). Well, he was right. The most rehearsed part of my plan got messy. Or rather, my subconscious decided to rebel and mess up my plan. See, I had scoped out the situation beforehand and resolved not to lay all my cards on the table. If I revealed one of my primary motives for the presentation—an assignment given me by one of my superiors—then that information might not sit well with the audience.

I spilled the beans; at least it was a good cop out from my original plan.

Interestingly, the audience didn’t seem miffed at my divulgence. I figured, Well, I honestly told them that though the assignment prompted me to action, I have been interested in the topic a long time prior and felt it has been overlooked in WC discussions. Maybe they concluded that genuine interest on the part of the rhetor, albeit with mixed motives, is better than no genuine interest. Yet not only was the audience unperturbed, they also weren’t distracted by the cookies. Huh. They weren’t such a tough sell as I had thought they’d be. They didn’t need to be persuaded to listen to me; they were already personally intrigued by a topic directly relevant to their line of work. Then again, because I know these people, this shouldn’t have surprised me…

You know how some people have “light-bulb moments”? I think I had a strobe light epiphany. I realized that I had underestimated/misunderstood my audience because I hadn’t thought about them specifically going into the assignment; instead, I resorted to my “public” writing mindset.

“[P]ublics are different from persons, that the address of public rhetoric is never going to be the same as address to actual persons,” writes Michael Warner (58). His statement makes sense to me. My go-to writing mindset assumes a public audience; thus, I use all the ammunition available to me to persuade even the most hardened (and unknown) audience member—although obviously those homework assignments are rarely seen by more than two people.

Instead of tailoring my presentation to specific people I knew would attend, I prepared to meet the imaginary public in my mind, one that was less gracious than the actual.

Once the smoke cleared (since at this point the strobe light was scorched), I was able to relax and allow the presentation take a more conversational turn. We discussed the suggestions listed on the handouts (see the Evidence below) as well as other techniques that individuals have used in sessions.

During the conversation, I mentally jotted down two observations: 

The exclusivity of the first observation notwithstanding, I thought these indicated signs of a good day's work. No crimes were committed or detected that day, but perhaps future (writing style) ones were averted.

Evidence