AsianScientist (Sep. 27, 2017) – I love giant clams. My serendipitous obsession with them began as an undergraduate when I took up a project to study and raise baby clams for experiments. As I learnt more about giant clams, I also learnt that they are being threatened by humans. Overfishing and loss of habitats are the major causes of giant clam population declines across the tropical coral reefs. I knew that I had to do something more to save my favorite animals from becoming extinct.
Being a scientist, I did what I do best: do more research! I publish my data, it goes into a journal, and ta-da—I had shared my research outcomes. Or so I thought initially. My work may be more accessible to the scientific community, but everyone else won’t know about my work. If they don’t know about my work, how can I get them to care about the giant clams?
This personal revelation led me to explore and participate in various forms of science communication: from blogging about my research to teaching undergraduate students, running lab tours to public visitors, becoming volunteer guides for public exhibitions, giving public seminars, participating as panelist, mentoring youths and a few adventures with filming.
Turning to TED
My science communication work has improved my confidence in presentation and delivery, as well as raised public awareness for the giant clams. But something was still missing. I was limited by the scientist in me, who was purely laying out the facts and figures to my audience. I needed to push the boundaries of science communication.
This is where TED came in. Two particular speakers caught my attention immediately: one was a marine biologist and the other a conservation biologist. I was highly impressed and in awe of their presentation delivery and beautiful visuals. Above all, their talks tugged hard on my heartstrings. I could feel the love and passion they had for their work, despite the screen barrier.
It was my lightbulb moment of “When I grow up, I want to be like them”, only that I didn’t have to wait until I grow up! Coincidentally, they were also both featured in this article Meet 12 Badass Scientists… Who Also Happen to be Women written for the TED Fellows. I became intrigued with the TED Fellows program and started to research (it’s in my scientist genes!) on how to get into the program.
Founded in 2009, the TED Fellows program brings together young innovators from around the world and across disciplines to raise international awareness of their work and maximize their impact. Could I be what they are looking for? I wasn’t sure. During the application period, questions of self-doubt came up. In the end, it was the YOLO side of me that convinced me to click the ‘Submit’ button.
The start of the journey
As work swamped my hours and days, I forgot about my application. One day, I opened my email account to see an email with the subject line: “TED2017 Fellowship interview request”. Things started to become even more real when I received the next email: “TED2017 Fellowship second interview request”. To actually receive the Fellowship offer was a surreal feeling. I was selected a TED Fellow, and I was beyond elaTED! This was only the beginning of my TED journey…
My goal as a newly minted TED Fellow was to produce a five-minute talk about myself and my work. My first thought was: Good thing it’s short, but how am I to squeeze almost a decade’s worth of stories in a mere five minutes?!?! Thankfully, I had the TED Fellows team’s support and dedication in coaching me on how to plan my talk.
In the months leading up to the main TED conference, the team arranged a suite of webinars consisting of experts to speak to us on media engagement, editorial tips, presentation communication and design, stage preparation tips, professional coaching and mentoring initiatives, as well as conversations with senior TED Fellows. It was like attending seminars at university all over again (albeit the US time difference for me)! I found myself learning and re-learning communication skills through this experience.
Practice makes perfect
The process of prepping for my talk really wasn’t easy, but I wasn’t alone in this process. I had regular meetings with the TED Fellows team, who strongly recommended that I write a script and read it out loud. My drafts went through many rounds of trashing, rewriting, paraphrasing, deleting and adding.
I also saw the transformation of my script’s tone from ‘overly-serious scientist’ to ‘impassionate scientist’, and hopefully to ‘passionate and genuine scientist’. My script was still far from ‘perfect’, but I had plenty of help from my colleagues, friends, family and the curators of TEDxSingapore! I had everyone listen to me rehearse my talk over and over and over again. With each rehearsal, their critical feedback motivated me to edit my script for a general audience.
Speaking of rehearsals, the ‘kiasu’ Singaporean in me took charge. I only had one chance to give my best rehearsal to the TED Fellows team before the conference. So every night, I diligently practiced and worked on speaking more slowly and articulating my words better. I also set up mock rehearsals through webinars, and invited everyone to give me feedback on my talk.
In short, I practiced endlessly with every bit of free time I had, until my voice gave way just weeks before the conference! Regretting that I did not heed the advice of the senior TED Fellows to rest my voice, I began to stock-pile on throat lozenges and ate them like sweets. To avoid losing my voice completely, I took up a senior TED Fellow’s advice. I recorded my talk and listened to it everywhere I commuted—on my way to work and back home, at meals, before bed time, and throughout my flight journey to Vancouver!
Upon arriving in Vancouver, what was left was the final dress rehearsal on the TED stage. The first thing we were told to do was to stand on the iconic TED red dot on stage. We took turns to stand on it, and I took a good few seconds to glance at the audience seating area. Then, we practiced loosening up our tense muscles with vocal exercises and shaking our hands wildly to overcome stage fear. Rehearsals followed, feedback followed, and off the stage—my one and only dress rehearsal opportunity was over in five minutes!
The final countdown
Two days later, just 12 hours before I went on the main stage, my nerves got to me again. This time, it was because I found out that I was going to be the first speaker for the TED Fellows session to kick-off the main TED conference! But my nervousness was quickly dissipated by the immense encouragement from everyone, particularly from Tom Rielly, a senior TED Fellow and the director of the TED Fellows program, who also spoke first at last year’s conference.
Finally, D-day! We arrived early on-site for make-up and hair, followed by what seemed to be an eternity of 1.5 hours. I couldn’t see the crowd from backstage, but I knew that it comprised of familiar faces from my TED Fellows family, as well as the donors and supporters of the TED Fellows program. Many more people viewed the simulcasts outside the hall and via live streaming from home.
Thirty minutes before my talk, I was miked up and on standby. Standing behind the curtains, I took many deep breaths until Tom called out my name. I climbed the stairs and planted my feet firmly on the red dot. I was bubbling with excitement to speak about the giant clams.
As I told my story, I heard laughter from the crowd as I revealed a huge giant clam shell on stage. I was happy that everyone (particularly Tom!) caught up with my ‘It’s a Clamity’ pun. I had a few stumbles at the end of my talk, but it didn’t scare me as much as I had imagined it would.
At the end of my talk, I was very pleased with what I had achieved. Every sentence in my talk conveyed an idea. Every visual used showed an idea. More importantly, it was not just a typical science talk, as I spoke to an audience of varied backgrounds. And they learnt something new about my favorite giant clams.
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Copyright: Asian Scientist Magazine; Photo: Ryan Lash/TED.
Disclaimer: This article does not necessarily reflect the views of AsianScientist or its staff.