Performance Anxiety and Second Life Saviors
I'm starting to get nervous.
A few days ago, my MacBook Pro arrived. I made the call to increase the speed of my home DSL. My bandwidth has since doubled. Except for the, "I'm just getting used to my new computer" routine, I'm running out of real life excuses for my avatar's Second Life performance.
The timing couldn't have been better. Or not.
You see, next week I have not one, but two presentations, both of them about Second Life. The first presentation is a short overview of Second Life at our Director's staff meeting. Later that day, we are doing a Brown Bag presentation for the folks in our organization at Sun. In at least one of the presentations, we'll go live from Second Life, where, you guessed it, a real life audience will have the opportunity to see my avatar.
I'm doing the presentation with several of my real life colleagues, all of whom participate in Second Life with me. As if these colleagues weren't good enough in real life, they have become my Second Life saviors. I just can't imagine my Second Life without them.
One of them is a Sun Second Life mentor, and he has helped me out of more than a few Second Life sticky situations. He's worked with me one on one, and showed me how to unpack boxes, try on clothes, and practice flying. He explained what happened when an object that I left while playing in the sandbox showed up in the Lost and Found. He's teleported me to more places than I can count. He's helped to clarify issues related to my computer and the purchase of a new one. His Second Life prowess is better than any real life person or Second Life avatar I know. I think that it's fair to say that the rest of my avatar friends and I would be suffering in Second Life without him. We're grateful for his real life and Second Life technical expertise and friendship.
When I go to Second Life events, often the avatars of these colleagues go with me. When I had troubles at the Sun Facebook presentation last week, these avatars were there. They sympathized with my inability to find a seat. They understood my deepest feelings about standing on that bench and why I logged out of Second Life in frustration and embarrassment. Again, these real life people and their corresponding avatars are a source of support and kindness.
Earlier this week, when we were practicing "in-world," (and that would be "in Second Life"), for our presentation, my last week's nightmare of standing on top of another avatar came true. It happened when I was teleported to the same location as one of my avatar friends. She was teleported first, and, when she arrived, didn't move out of the way fast enough. When I arrived several seconds later, I landed right on top of her.
My friend didn't get mad at me. We both laughed. Really hard. Of course, the laughter occurred in real life, because in Second Life neither of us knows how to laugh, at least not at the right time. And delayed laughs can be really wrong. Even in Second Life.
Which, leads me back to my performance anxiety and those presentations next week. My slides are ready. I pretty much know what I'm going to say. I'm going to talk about research on avatars and virtual realities. With my psychology background, I find this to be very interesting stuff. I'm prepared and comfortable with the subject matter. I don't mind standing up in front of people and talking.
Then, what's the problem, or the performance issue, you ask?
It's about my Second Life avatar and the live from Second Life part of the presentation. Never mind that my avatar has a very simple role, she doesn't even have to move very much. I'm not going to spoil it by telling you exactly what my avatar does in the presentation. I will tell you that she is somewhere fun and social, and for those who know me in real life, you'll be relieved that I have not sacrificed any real life principles for the sake of corporate showmanship. I'm not even wearing fancy clothes.
I'm just stressed out about her behavior, or the potential lack of it in front of all those people. Anxious enough that I'm sure that I'll return to that Second Life venue to practice multiple times between now and Wednesday, with the hope of minimizing the chances of my avatar making a virtual fool out of herself next week.
My emotional safety net is relieved that our real life colleague, the Sun Second Life mentor with the technical prowess, will be in the room with us. He'll assist with the technical issues and can help naughty avatars who get into trouble. He's flying up from southern California for the presentations. We didn't even have to beg him to come. He just knew it was the right thing to do.
With the exception of one of our colleagues, who will be working with us from her office in Australia, the rest of my real world colleagues will be right there with me. We'll all have our laptops and operate our own avatars in Second Life from the same room. I'm comforted that almost all of us will be physically in the same place.
In more ways than one, my experience in Second Life is consistent with the research. Noshir Contractor, who studies social networks, has found that when players in virtual worlds need help, they typically turn to players that they already know or had worked with in the past.
My real world colleagues and I have been through a lot in our real world work life. It only follows that we'd develop an even stronger bond as we explore the virtual world. It helps.
Still, as we know, performance matters. Alot.
The fact remains that next week, during part of the presentation, many eyes will be on my avatar. Between now and then, I'm working really hard to ensure that she behaves. My friends assure me that even if she doesn't, it'll be OK.
I've mentioned before that I have a really nice circle of avatar friends. And the good news is, they'll support me no matter what trouble my avatar gets into on Wednesday. It doesn't get any better than that. But that doesn't mean I'm still not nervous.
