Why My Slides Were Wrong, But I Wasn’t

One of my favorite parts of my job is teaching at a one-day workshop. Usually I am teaching the same content on social media, digital ads, and first-time guest experience/follow-up. Prior to this trip, I made some edits to my slideshow to freshen up the content a bit. I was in the middle of teaching when one of my slides caused me to internally question what I wrote. It showed an example email sequence for first-time guests and included a line about creating a “Plan Your Next Visit” page. I remember pausing, thinking to myself, why did I even put that there? At that moment, I couldn’t recall exactly why it was on the slide or what my original reasoning had been.

This is the part where most of us might panic. A mistake in front of a room full of people feels like the last thing you want. But instead of calling it out as an error, I leaned into it. Because even if the slide wasn’t fully clear, I wasn’t wrong. I knew my audience, I knew their challenges, and I knew the larger principle behind what we were talking about.

So I used it as an opportunity to innovate.

I explained that once a first-time guest has already been to a live experience, they don’t need another reminder of what that experience is like. They’ve already seen it. What they actually need is a reason to come back. That means showing them the next layer—kids programs, volunteer opportunities, community groups, events that go beyond Sunday morning. A “Plan Your Next Visit” page could hold all of that.

What started as a slide I almost dismissed turned into a new idea. And more than half of the people in the room told me they wanted to build something like it for their own websites.

Turning a Miss Into a Moment

That pivot didn’t happen by chance. It came from preparation and being immersed in the topic day-in and day-out. Because I’ve lived in this space long enough, I wasn’t scrambling to cover up a slip. I could spot the opportunity and expand it into something useful.

Moments like that show how creativity often comes from tension points. They also prove that the ability to think on your feet only really works if you’ve done the deeper work ahead of time.

What the Room Needed Most

If I had admitted the slide was wrong, I would have lost momentum. But by reframing it, I gave the audience what they actually needed: a new idea they could run with. And that’s the difference between being technically correct and being practically helpful.

This wasn’t about salvaging a mistake. It was about reading the room and leaning into what mattered most to them.

What I Learned About Myself

Internally, that moment reminded me why preparation matters so much to me. Not because I want everything to go perfectly, but because preparation gives me the confidence to improvise when things don’t.

It also reminded me that innovation rarely shows up in the planned slides. It happens when you allow space for new ideas to break through.

The Bigger Point

My slides might have been wrong. But I wasn’t.

That difference is important. A forgotten idea or an added word that stumbles you will always happen. The real question is whether you know your craft well enough to use them as an opportunity instead of a setback. When you do, a small slip can become the most valuable part of the room’s experience and gives them a sneak peek to be on the forefront of a new idea.

And often, those are the moments that last.