Francisco Miraval
A few weeks ago I was invited to do a presentation to a group of parents. After the presentation, a mother said she had a question for me. She told me she had seen in a local newspaper a column written by somebody with my same name and last name. “Are you the writer or is he another person?” she asked.
“I am the presenter. The writer is another one,” I said. Before I could add another word, the mother left. I wish I could had explained to her that there was no deception in my answer.
I, the presenter, like to be in front of group of people, always looking for the best way to interact with each of the participants so after the presentation they all will feel it was a good experience and time well spent. The other, the writer, only cares about whatever he has in his mind. He never defines his audience and purposely keep it ambiguous.
As a presenter, I must pay attention to all levels of communication with the people in my group, both verbal and non-verbal communication, including gestures and body language. If I feel there is a need to make changes or to ask questions, I will, because I want to be sure everybody is part of the dialogue.
The other, the writer, likes to be alone in his office and it seems he is only interested in one-way communication: from his mind to the reader, without thinking about who the reader is or what the reader may be doing when he or she reads what the writer wrote.
One of the attractions of presenting to a group of people is that, regardless of how well prepared you are, something unexpected will always happens and, paradoxically, you need to be ready for that too. Perhaps a baby will cry, or a telephone will ring, or the microphone will not work. You have to anticipate those unwelcome situations, and thousands more, to know what to say and do when those interruptions happens.
But he, the writer, can’t tolerate interruptions. He said that after any interruption it takes time to refocus on his writing and that an interruption creates the risk of forgetting forever those ideas coming to his mind. He doesn’t like unexpected situations either. Each column should be carefully crafted every week the same day and at the same time. And it has to be review it again and again.
It is true that the writer and I have the same name and last name and we are the same age. Our lives led us to the same places and to the same experiences. But he is a writer and I am a presenter. He likes words and I like people.
Obviously, without the writer I, the presenter, could not have written these thoughts. I think this is not a reciprocal relationship. It seems that, if he could, he will live the rest of his life surrounded only by his thoughts.