real content

The presentation itself went very well, though I seem to recall that it was rather sparsely attended. I also recall how surprised I was to discover during the question and answer period that almost everyone who asked a question said something like: "That was very interesting. I was wondering whether, in the light of your father's research, he's also considered ...", after which came a mention of a totally tangential or unrelated idea or theory. It took me a while to realize that these questioners probably hadn't had their papers accepted for presentation, and thus used the question and answer periods for plugging their own work.

When, at a distance of over twenty years, I again reviewed the placard I'd prepared I found it quite self-explanatory, and logical. But I, of course, have been familiar with my father's research for many years. I don't know whether someone else, without my background, might make sense of it. I was thus quite pleased when, going through my parents' papers recently, I found the abstract of Dad's presentation for that conference. Though the abstract perhaps inundates the reader with a lengthy series of perceptions and inter-perception that can be hard to follow, the basic point becomes very clear - family therapy isn't a one-on-one discussion session, but an attempt to identify sources of family conflict in the ways in which family members don't meet the expectations of others. Once these foci of discord have been identified, the therapist can attempt to change the expectations, or the behaviors that lead to conflict.


But today I'm perhaps more interested in the fact that an interesting and involving presentation could be made simply because it had a good and engaging text, and a simple yet effective prop. In today's world of segues and fade-outs and flashy backgrounds, content often seems to take a back seat. (Either that, or the entire lecture gets printed on the PowerPoint slides and the audience is compelled not only to listen to a boring presentation, but to try and read along with the small print on the screen at the same time.) Nostalgia is often the almost inevitable result of finding something stashed away in the attic. But though I don't feel nostalgic toward pre-computer times, I certainly wouldn't mind if presentations at conferences took their cue from how it was done (well) back then.