Some attendees at my sessions come unprepared.
Like having no business cards. Tsk. Tsk.
Like not thinking how they can glean the best from my session, as if my LinkedIn training is a spectator sport. I often (beware!) ask for a show of hands: “who looked at my LinkedIn profile before coming to listen to me today?”
Sheepishly they look around at their neighbors and find they are in the company of others who also did not take the time to read my profile, and this happens almost all each session. Uh oh.
It’s an assumption on their part that I am qualified in some special way by virtue of being a speaker. They had a chance but missed it, to assess my credentials and see why I do that I do. They could have read my profile narrative ahead, available to them on my LinkedIn public profile, on any device, telling how I could help them, so they can formulate questions that will answer a burning mystery of LinkedIn they have, or get advice on something that will propel them ahead of the competition.
OK, perhaps not “propel,” as that is up to the individual after I speak to the group, and I aim to move them all further one notch, at least.
I get that they are busy.
But I make a point to look over the profiles of my upcoming attendees (when I can get a list) ahead of time so I can find a way to refashion my usual presentation to address some common threads the group seems to need help with, some ideas that will help the majority do better.
That extra customization varies industry to industry, and within a single industry, from group to group. And certainly more laser-pointed when I take on coaching individuals.
So I take their order from the menu of the group’s profiles and deliver a steaming hot, heaped-high plate of LinkedIn, cooked just for them.
And sometimes, as in a recent session, an attendee told me the food was extra-delicious at my LinkedIn gourmet restaurant; he loved my Japanese inspired ikigai “appetizer.”
This is not fast food. It’s truly made-to-order.
Don’t just watch, gorge yourself.