Bill's Bulletin Board
By Bill Rea

I'm sure we've all heard it said that the one thing people generally fear more than anything else is speaking in public.

I think it's true that most of us start off being uncomfortable getting up in front of a crowd and making remarks. Some of us get over the fear, and there are some who actually get quite good at it. People in the public eye get plenty of practice. Politicians need to be good at it. A politician who can't coherently express him or herself in front of a crowd needs to seriously look at finding another line of work.

Speaking in front of a crowd is not something I terribly enjoy, although over the years, it's something I have come to know I can handle, but I have also had occasions when I have fallen short, as well as flat on my face (figuratively).

I was once at a gathering of some friends, two of whom had been involved with Toastmasters, and they decided to set up a little arrangement, almost like a parlour game, where everyone in the group was required to draw a topic from a bowl and deliver an impromptu speech on it. It came my turn, I drew a topic and froze.

This all happened about 15 years ago. I have no recollection of the topic I drew, or the reaction to my address once it was complete. I just remember I stood there like an idiot for a couple of minutes, mumbled something that I was sure didn't make a whole lot of sense, then quickly found my chair again. And I was among friends. It frightens me to think what would have happened had I been in front of a hostile audience.

I'm happy to report things have improved with time, although like most people, I still get nervous at the thought of standing up in front of a group.

As my wedding approached 10 years ago, in my gut I knew I had only minor fears of the major step in life I was about to take, but I was terrified at the thought that I was actually going to have to make a speech at the reception to follow. My mother threw a party the night before the wedding, and I was a mess, realizing I had too many other things to worry about that I had no time for partying. And getting up in front of people, including near total strangers from my wife's side of the church, and friends of my parents who I had known all my life and who probably always thought I would never amount to anything, was near the top of my list of fears. So naturally, I was climbing the wall that night.

I eventually got home and took care of all the multitude of items I had to take address that night, leaving the composition of a speech to the end, hoping to avoid nagging thoughts and distractions. It worked rather well too. I had written a rough draft in less than an hour, which was reasonably coherent and contained what I thought were a few nice touches of humour. And then I started to relax and breathe at a rate that approached normal.

The speech went well, although the people in the room laughed at a line that I hadn't thought was funny. But I got through it, and was followed at the microphone by my brother. Having won many prizes for public speaking as a student, I knew he'd ace my performance, and he did. I was just happy to be able to sit with my dignity in tact.

Being able to speak in public seemed to run in my family. My father was very good at it, although I don't think he enjoyed it. I well remember the evening when he got angry at my mother for lining him up to deliver a toast at a wedding without consulting him (I later heard a tape of the address he gave, and you would never have been able to tell it was done with reluctance).

I think the key to public speaking, at least occasional public speaking, is preparation. Like I stated before, I was able to relax the night before my wedding because I had been able to get some usable and acceptable words down on paper, words which I was able to tweak the next morning. And one of the reasons my dad was so angry about the toast he was roped into delivering was he feared he wouldn't have adequate time to prepare.

He was lucky. I was once called upon to deliver a toast at a wedding, and I received about 20 (or maybe 25) seconds of warning. And I was about half way to the microphone before I even learned who I was to toast. My mother was present at the event, and later complimented me for carrying off something when it was so obvious I had not been given a chance to prepare, and she complimented me on having the good sense to keep my remarks short.

My wife later told me I had endured one of her worst nightmares.

I was covering the Peel Regional council meeting last week, at which a number of Grade 3 students spoke on the importance of friendship. It was part of a presentation on the Peel Children's Charter of Rights. I listened to these young folks from Mississauga address municipal politicians with confidence and poise, knowing this 50-something guy would be a bundle of sweat at the microphone. At that young age, my mother had to hand me a note to pass across the counter if she sent me to the store for a loaf of bread. Yet these kids could talk to municipal politicians and members of the public with ease that left me in awe.

I'll bet they'll be more relaxed than I was the night before they get married.