Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 96
March 6, 2023
5 Lessons from Delivering 10 TEDx Talks
After delivering 10 TEDx Talks over the last decade, I created a workbook that lists and describes five lessons that I’ve learned.
Not a full and complete instructional guide on the writing and delivering of a public speech or talk (though I could certainly write one if paid enough), but five lessons that you perhaps have never heard before that can level up your public speaking skills.
Five lessons that may help you better deliver your next talk, speech, presentation, sales pitch, keynote, locker room rallying cry, inspirational address, commencement speech, or TEDx Talk.
It also includes stories about and references to Morpheus from The Matrix and Dr. Ruth.
Also excellent, it’s FREE.
March 5, 2023
Kathy Fish and collective nouns
I’m a big fan of collective nouns.
A crash of rhinos. A murder of crows. A stand of flamingos. A conspiracy of ravens. A prickle of porcupines.
Years ago, I came up with a few of my own collective nouns:
A gamble of poker players
A fumble of left-handers
A fistful of bullies
A concern of mothers
An argument of attorneys
A frustration of golfers
Writer and teacher Kathy Fish recently wrote a poem using collective nouns that I adore. It’s filled with humor, joy, inspiration, and heartache, all captured in what amounts to a list.
I’m also a fan of lists. I wrote an entire novel in list form.
This poem really hit my sweet spot.
Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
__________________________________
Collective Nouns for Humans in the Wild
A group of grandmothers is a tapestry. A group of toddlers, a jubilance (see also: a bewailing). A group of librarians is an enlightenment. A group of visual artists is a bioluminescence. A group of short story writers is a Flannery. A group of musicians is — a band.
A resplendence of poets.
A beacon of scientists.
A raft of social workers.
A group of first responders is a valiance. A group of peaceful protestors is a dream. A group of special education teachers is a transcendence. A group of neonatal ICU nurses is a divinity. A group of hospice workers, a grace.
Humans in the wild, gathered and feeling good, previously an exhilaration, now: a target.
A target of concert-goers.
A target of movie-goers.
A target of dancers.
A group of schoolchildren is a target.
– Kathy Fish
March 4, 2023
Time’s 100 Best Books of All Time
I don’t do this very often, but I’m adding something to my yearly goals. I have a whopping 49 goals already for 2023, but this is a good one:
Time recently published a list of the 100 Best Children’s Books of All Time.
As I clicked through the list, I discovered that I have not read many of them (including the first book on the list, “Where the Wild Things Are”) and don’t recall many others.
It’s time to correct this.
When I started teaching elementary school, I discovered that I knew very little about children’s literature. I grew up in a home bereft of books, so as my classmates in college spoke about children’s classics with great familiarity, I found myself utterly lost.
The first book I ever read to a class of students – during my first week of student teaching – was “Tikki Tikki Tembo” written by Arlene Mosel and illustrated by Blair Lent. It’s an incredibly difficult book to read, especially if you’ve just been handed it to read on day one.
It didn’t exactly instill confidence in me.
I tried to catch up on my knowledge of children’s literature, and once I had children of my own, many of these books found their way into the mountain of books that fill our home, but still, I haven’t read many, and some of those that I know I read have left my memory entirely.
So this will be the year that I read the 100 best children’s books of all time, at least according to Time.
Thankfully, I work in an elementary school with a robust library, so gaining access to most of these books will not be difficult.
If you’d like to join me on the journey, I think it will be fun.
March 3, 2023
Stick shifts going the way of the dinosaurs
Manual transmissions are apparently going extinct.
There are a few last-ditch holdouts keeping the stick shift alive, but almost all are sports cars, including the Porsche 911 GT3, Subaru BRZ, Mazda MX-5 Miata, Honda Civic Si, and Toyota GR86.
Who know the Honda Civic had a sporty version?
This makes me a little sad. For many years, I drove a stick shift.
Today, I shift gears via a series of sad, little buttons on the dashboard, but it’s not uncommon for me to still reach for the stick and clutch out of habit, especially when the road is slippery.
I was taught to drive a stick shift by a girlfriend named Jennifer Tanner, who drove a Nissa Sentra with a stick and offered to teach me to drive it when I was a teenager. She took me to a parking lot one afternoon, and within an hour, I was driving stick like a pro.
Jen was a good teacher.
Nearly every car I owned up until about six years ago was a stick shift, and boy, do I miss it. Even though a manual transmission admittedly requires more from me in terms of effort and attention, it also makes me feel better connected to the car. When I’m driving stick, I feel like the car and I are simpatico.
Driving an automatic transmission has never come close to giving me that same feeling.
Unless things change in the automobile market, or unless I hit some weird midlife crisis that requires me to purchase a sports car to make me feel more relevant and virile, it’s possible that I have driven the last stick shift of my life, which makes me a little sad.
Not only do I miss driving a stick shift, but I’ve never been a fan of things coming to an end. For someone with a persistent, relentless existential crisis, endings, even in automobile technology, is rough.
March 2, 2023
“Their” is now here.
Language is relentlessly changing for the better.
This question was posed to Americans in both 2007 and 2023.
Which do you prefer for filling in the blank in this sentence: “A student should thank __________ teacher.”Four choices were offered:
theirhis or herhisotherThe results?
theirhis or herhisother200732%40%25%3%202368%28%3%1%In 16 years, the word “their” in sentences like these has become twice as popular. It’s also become the dominant choice of people applying words to the page. Equally important, the default male pronoun is nearly extinct.
This change has made old, implacable, and bigoted people crazy, of course, in the same ways these people are also incensed over issues like same-sex marriage, gender-neutral restrooms, transgender rights, preferred pronouns, and drag shows.
These people discover – probably on some conservative news program – that a formally plural pronoun is being used to describe a singular person to avoid prioritizing gender, and they react with predictable, boring, stupid outrage:
“What? People are ignoring gender in their pronouns? Using a plural pronoun to describe just one person? Heresy, I tell you! Disaster! What are they teaching in schools today? The world is going to hell and a handbasket!”
No. Not heresy. The world is simply moving on. Evolving. Getting better for more people. These people are simply not evolving like the rest of us. They remain trapped in 2007 while the vast majority of Americans are living in 2023.
Remember when Republican politicians, religious zealots, and stupid bigots declared that same-sex marriage would destroy the foundation of marriage in this country? They warned that allowing same-sex Americans to marry would spell the very end of our society. For years, they fought like hell to deny this basic human right to gay Americans.
What actually happened?
In 2007, more than 60% of Americans opposed same-sex marriage for reasons similar to their opposition to the use of the word “their” as a singular pronoun.
Today, same-sex marriage enjoys a 71% approval rating. The numbers have more than reversed over the same 16-year time period, and same-sex marriage is now legal in the United States.
The world moved on. It evolved. It’s getting better for most people. An increasingly small number of Americans remain opposed to same-sex marriage, essentially because they are bigots, uninformed, or have chosen a buffet-style version of the Bible wherein certain Biblical passages are relevant while hundreds of others are not, but their numbers thankfully grow smaller every year.
People evolve. Society advances. The world becomes better for more people. Those who resist eventually find themselves in the minority. They become angry, they grow old, and they die.
The world moves on without them. Happily so.
There was a time in America when interracial marriage was considered an abomination. In 1961, just 4% of Americans supported an American’s right to marry someone outside their own race.
Today 96% of Americans support the right of Americans to marry someone outside their own race. And 19% of marriages today are comprised of interracial couples.
The old, implacable, and bigoted people of 1961 would lose their damn minds if they knew that all but a tiny sliver of the vilest, most bigoted Americans support interracial marriage.
The same will be true for all of the issues that the old, implacable, and bigoted people are throwing fits about today:
Book banning? It’s happened before, mostly because of the actions of a minority of self-serving politicians who want to score points in the culture war. It’s certainly not new. For a time in America, comic books were almost impossible to publish because of the actions of conservative activists.
Eventually, those book-banning fools are shoved to the side by more reasonable Americans.
Those comic book-banning idiots of the 1950s would lose their damn minds if they saw the power and influence of Marvel today.
Transgender rights? Same thing.
Gender-neutral restrooms? The same.
The world moves on. Sometimes in fits and starts. Occasionally we take a step back before returning to righteousness. But eventually, humans evolve, society advances, and the world gets better for more people.
I wish it were better today. I wish that the old, implacable, and bigoted people would evolve, shut up, or just go away, but until they do, we can fight like hell, stand beside those under attack, and reject their bigotry and stupidity at every turn.
But I suggest you allow yourself a small bit of amusement, too, because the bigots actually think they’re right. The implacable and the traditionalists truly believe in their ridiculous, hopeless cause in the same way that Americans in 1961 opposed interracial marriage.
They might even believe that they will win. In their small, simple minds, they think progress will be forever stymied or permanently reversed.
Allow yourself a small, private laugh at these fools. Giggle at their naivety. Snicker at their stupidity. And remember:
They are just like the cretins who opposed same-sex marriage in 2007.
Just like the bigots who opposed interracial marriage in 1961.
Just like the linguist jackasses who couldn’t imagine the world accepting “their” as a singular pronoun back in 2007.
The battle may be long and hard, but progress, righteousness, and evolution always win.
Take heart in that knowledge.
March 1, 2023
Resolution update: February 2023
1. Don’t die.
Pneumonia had me reeling for a bit in February, but I eventually defeated it.
As always, I plan on living forever or die trying.
2. Lose 20 pounds.
I lost another 5 pounds in February, bringing my total weight loss to 16 pounds.
Feeling really good about this.
3. Do at least 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and three one-minute planks five days a week.
I missed about a week of exercise because of pneumonia. Otherwise, done.
4. Cycle for at least five days every week.
I couldn’t ride the bike for six days due to pneumonia.
I also rode a Peleton for three days in the hotel gym, which I did not enjoy nearly as much as my Nordictrack and reaffirmed my purchasing decision.
The Peleton is a fine bike, but my Nordictrack raises and lowers to match the terrain on screen and has a fan to cool me off as I ride. I know the Peleton has an outstanding cast of workout coaches and great music, but I can’t stand being told what to do. I watch movies and listen to my own music when exercising.
I’m currently watching “The Last of Us.”
5. Improve my golfing handicap by two strokes.
Thanks to a golfing weekend in Florida back in January, I lowered my handicap from 17.6 to 15.9.
I won’t be playing golf again until the weather improves, but lessons continue in earnest.
WRITING CAREER6. Complete my eighth novel.
The book is about half complete, but I haven’t made any progress in 2023.
7. Write my next Storyworthy book.
Contract signed! Due on September 1. Work has commenced!
8. Write/complete at least three new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist.
I have an idea for one new picture book involving numbers.
I’m supposed to be revising a book about beavers.
All of this is to say, “Not a lot of progress.”
9. Write a new solo show.
I’ve been working on this quite a bit in January, adding transitions, anecdotes, and jokes to the structure that my director, Kaia, and I have already created.
I also found an interesting beginning and end wrap-around.
I’m excited about this project.
10. Perform a new solo show.
My first-choice theater is hoping to confirm dates for me in their already packed lineup. Fingers crossed it can happen.
I can’t wait to announce dates.
11. Write a musical.
My friend Kaia and I are writing a musical that we will also perform, even though I cannot sing. She writes the music and lyrics. She and I write the story.
I need to write some of the story in order for Kaia to begin writing music. I haven’t done that yet.
12. Submit at least five Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.
No progress.
13. Write at least four letters to my father.
No progress.
14. Write 100 letters in 2022.
Another 16 letters were sent in February, bringing the total number to 49.
Nearly halfway to the goal!
Recipients included students and former students, a colleague, two clients, a friend, and two businesses.
15. Convert 365 Days of Elysha into a book.
No progress. There is probably a company that does this sort of thing, so I am on the hunt.
16. Read at least 12 books.
In February, I read:
“Sapiens” by Yuval Harari
“Life’s a Gamble” by Mike Sexton
“The Sea We Swim In” by Frank Rose
I’m in the middle of reading the following books:
“Born a Crime” by Trevor Nioah (re-reading for our book club)
“From Saturday Night to Sunday Night” by Dick Ebersol
“Think Like a Monk” by Jay Shetty
“The Groucho Letters”
Four books read so far in 2023.
17. Write to at least six authors about a book I love.
No progress.
STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER18. Complete the re-recording of Storyworthy For Business.
“Storyworthy” for Business is complete and available for purchase. Find it and much more at storyworthymd.com.
I want to produce a much-improved version of the course ASAP. Module 1 is now re-recorded. The recording for module 2 (and many other things) is scheduled for March. Kaia and I will be spending a lot of time in the studio.
19. Record the next Storyworthy course.
No progress.
20. Produce a total of six Speak Up storytelling events in 2023
I’ve scheduled four shows in 2023, including some remarkable venues.
Our first two shows are on April 22 at Wolcott School – a fundraiser – and April 29 at the Connecticut Historical Society.
We also are producing a show in partnership with Voices of Hope on May 4.
Mark your calendars! Tickets on sale soon!
21. Pitch myself to at least three upcoming TEDx events with the hopes of being accepted by one.
Done!
I spoke at a TEDx event at the University of Connecticut in January. It went well despite a malfunctioning clicker that sometimes advanced two slides instead of one.
You can’t imagine how annoyed this made me.
I was also invited to speak at a TEDx event in Natick, MA on April 13.
I pitched myself to TEDx events in Harlem, Roxbury, and on the campus of Yale University.
Harlem was only looking for residents of the borough, so they passed. I await a response from the other two.
22. Attend at least eight Moth events with the intention of telling a story.
I attended one Moth StorySLAM in Boston in February.
One show altogether in 2023.
23. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.
I attended one Moth StorySLAM in Boston in February, but my name was not drawn from the hat.
24. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.
I was invited to compete in the Seattle GrandSLAM this month, but traveling cross country was not possible. I await invitations from producers in New York, Boston, and Washington DC.
25. Produce at least 24 episodes of our podcast Speak Up Storytelling.
No progress.
26. Perform stand-up at least six times in 2022.
I have a stand-up partner who will be going to open mics with me. We have a date and location planned for April and will be punching up each other’s sets in March.
27. Pitch three stories to This American Life.
No progress.
28. Pitch myself to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast at least three times.
No progress. But I watched his special. It was excellent.
29. Send a newsletter to readers at least 50 times.
Two newsletters were sent in February. A total of 10 newsletters sent thus far in 2023.
HOME30. Clear the basement.
I’m ordering a dumpster for a day during my April vacation so that I can clear out things that need to go. Otherwise, incremental progress was made in February.
31. Clean and clear the garage.
The dumpster will also be key to completing this task, too. Incremental progress was made in February.
32. Furnish and decorate the studio.
Done! The last bookshelf was purchased and built. Lighting was added. The water damage has been repaired. The studio is officially complete.
33. Eliminate clothing not being worn and closet bins.
I removed the other two bins of clothing and moved them downstairs in hopes of finding an opportunity to go through the clothing with Elysha. My closet is now free of clutter. A culling of pants, jackets, and hats is next on the list.
FAMILY/FRIENDS34. Text or call my brother or sister once per month.
Done. I exchanged texts with my sister several times.
35. Take at least one photo of my children every day.
Done.
36. Take at least one photo with Elysha and me each week.
Photos were taken in two out of four weeks, which is sadly good for me.
37. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.
No progress.
38. I will not comment – positively or negatively – about the physical appearance of any person save my wife and children in order to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.
Done.
39. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2023.
I surprised Elysha twice in February:
Her Pusheen surprise package arrived, filled with fun Pushneen paraphernalia.
I also gave Elysha tickets to the upcoming Lizzo concert for Valentines Day. This was especially surprising given that we had a Speak Up storytelling event scheduled for Gillette Castle on the same day, which required me to move that show to the fall before purchasing the tickets.
She’ll be bringing a friend to the concert, who is equally excited.
Three surprises so far in 2023.
40. Play poker at least six times in 2023.
No progress. So annoyed.
41. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 30 years.
No progress, but we spoke and agreed to meet as soon as the weather turns warmer.
MUSIC42. Memorize the lyrics to at least five favorite songs.
I’m still working on Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way” and “Renegade” by Styx (with Charlie).
43. Learn to play the piano by practicing at least three times a week.
Done.
MISCELLANEOUS PROJECTS
44. Learn the names of every employee who works at my school.
Progress! I learned the name of another paraprofessional who I don’t work with directly but occasionally see in the lunchroom, and I also confirmed the last names of two people who I only know by their first name.
45. Convert our wedding video to a transferable format.
Nearly done! A professional who does this sort of thing successfully extracted by wedding video and other content from the laptop in question. We will be meeting soon so that I can get these things back into my possession.
So excited!
46. Memorize five new poems.
No progress.
47. Write to at least three colleges about why they should hire me.
I have begun writing the letter.
48. Complete my Eagle Scout project.
I’ve reached out to the folks who manage the cemeteries in Newington for assistance on this project.
Charlie is excited to help.
49. Post my progress regarding these resolutions on this blog and social media on the first day of every month.
Done!
February 28, 2023
Walking in my footsteps
Charlie crossed over from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts last week. After a brief ceremony, he crossed a wooden bridge, leaving his Cub Scout pack behind and joining his new Boy Scout troop.
A big day for Charlie. A big day for me, too.
The Boy Scouts in many ways saved my life. Scouting gave me a place where I could learn, grow, and feel safe. It offered me many of the lessons I was not learning at home. I found confidence, compassion, and competence thanks to Scouting.
It’s entirely possible that I learned as much in Scouting as I did in all of my years of schooling.
And that education has paid off in surprising ways.
Today I find myself consulting with newly minted managers, company owners, corporate executives, leaders of large organizations, fledgling entrepreneurs, and even the clergy on leadership, managing people, problem-solving, building organizational culture, and more. I’m hired to teach storytelling, marketing, sales strategy, communications, and public speaking, but before long, I often find myself helping leaders navigate the day-to-day and long-term challenges of being a boss.
Oddly enough, I learned how to manage people while working for nearly a decade at McDonald’s, but I first learned the principles of leadership in the Boy Scouts. That process began early on when I was elected as a patrol leader by my fellow Scouts. Soon after, I began climbing the ranks, ascending to assistant senior patrol leader, senior patrol leader, and finally assistant Scoutmaster.
Each of those stepping stones taught me so much.
I hope that Charlie has the same opportunities to grow.
Part of Charlie’s crossing-over ceremony involved me painting Charlie’s face with four different colored paints, each representing a different Scouting principle.
He didn’t love it.
But as I painted his face, dipping my finger into the four colors and painting lines and circles on his face, I was suddenly struck with the memory of having the same thing done to me. Just before crossing a similar bridge, I, too, had my face painted with the same four colors as Donald Pollock, my future Scoutmaster, explained the meaning of the color.
The memory returned to me like it had happened yesterday.
After crossing the bridge, Charlie was gifted with an arrow, symbolizing his transformation from an Arrow of Light Cub Scout to a full-fledged Boy Scout. When he showed his arrow to me, I was once again smacked in the face with the memory of my own arrow, inscribed with my name, that I had owned and kept safe for years until I became homeless and lost so many of my belongings.
For a moment in time, Charlie’s arrow was my arrow. It felt as if time was folding over on itself, layering the two distant periods in time atop one another.
I’ll never forget it.
This is the power of tradition, ritual, and ceremony. We establish, codify, and preserve traditions and express and celebrate them through ritual and ceremony, because doing so compresses time, bringing the past and present together for a brief but wondrous moment.
For a moment, I was a Cub Scout again, having my face painted, crossing a bridge, and receiving an arrow on the other side.
Tradition, ritual, and ceremony also enhance and entrench the meaning and importance of the values and principles of an organization. They strengthen and solidify our connection to the organization. They make people feel like members of something important. They remind us of the path that we once walked.
Tradition, ritual, and ceremony. Something I also teach leaders today as a critical part of their organizational culture. Oftentimes starting with storytelling.
Something I first learned in Scouting.
Something I was reminded of last week as my son walked in my footsteps.
February 27, 2023
Phantom of the Opera was confusing, but not for the kids
Elysha and I took the kids to see Phantom of the Opera on Saturday. The show is closing in April after a record 35 years on Broadway, so it was now or never.
We chose now.
I knew absolutely nothing about the show as we walked into the Majestic Theater, and as the first act was coming to an end, I felt like I still didn’t know a whole lot. Phantom of the Opera is a sung-through musical, meaning every word is sung by the actors, so that, in combination with the somewhat confusing plot, had me feeling a little lost as the lights came up for intermission.
I turned to Elysha and said, “I’m confused.”
She was confused, too. Together, we began piecing together the plot, filling in holes that each one missed, when we heard Clara and Charlie to our right, discussing the first act.
Those two little jerks understood the whole damn thing.
They understood it far better than Elysha or me.
They also seemed to be enjoying it more than either of us.
I couldn’t believe it.
The second half of the show was much more comprehensible than the first, and much of the first act came into greater clarity as the second act proceeded, but somehow, someway, a 14-year-old girl and a 10-year-old boy (who couldn’t sit still) understood the musical better than two grown-ass adults.
I felt both slightly stupid and exceedingly proud as the lights came down for the second act.
It also served as an excellent reminder:
Don’t discount the young or the inexperienced when you need answers.
I’ve watched many people over the years ignore the knowledge, wisdom, and expertise of the young simply because of their youth. People foolishly assume that because someone is a decade or two younger than them, they have far less to offer.
It’s a mistake.
When I was 17 years old and still in high school, I was promoted to manager of the McDonald’s restaurant where I was working, and I had to fight long and hard to earn the respect of the much older employees who I was managing, even though I was fully capable of doing the job.
I eventually won them over, but it wasn’t easy.
It was also annoying. Older managers who couldn’t run a shift to save their lives were respected more than someone like me who was admittedly young but could run circles around some of my much older colleagues.
Sadly, we often ignore the young, assuming that their value is somehow less because they haven’t existed long enough to be worthy of our interest, attention, or respect.
It’s stupid and wrong.
As a teacher, I routinely ask my students to complete evaluations on me, inquiring about my areas of strength and weakness. I ask them to tell me how I could be a better teacher, and I invite suggestions about making my instruction more effective.
I’ve been observed and evaluated by countless administrators over the years, but none of their evaluations have been nearly as helpful to me as the feedback offered by my students.
Their evaluations, more than any administrator’s evaluations, have made me a better teacher.
My students may be young (and sometimes annoying), but they are wise beyond their years when it comes to understanding what a teacher needs to do to be effective.
I’m an English major who has published six novels and two books of nonfiction. I’ve written musicals that have been performed onstage by real actors. I’ve performed in musicals, too, both in college and in community theater. I’ve seen countless Broadway plays and musicals in my lifetime. I’m a storyteller who writes, speaks, and consults on the crafting, structure, and deployment of story in its many forms throughout the world.
I was as equipped as anyone in that theater on Saturday to understand Phantom of the Opera.
Yet my kids understood the story better than me.
Brilliant little brats.
February 26, 2023
Storytelling coaches who don’t take the stage make no sense
Here’s a bit of lunacy:
I was working with a storyteller who will be performing onstage next month. She’s nervous. The audience will be sizable, and she’s never performed in a setting like this before.
She’s being coached by someone who works for the organization producing the show. Her coach is helping her to craft the best possible story for the stage.
Last week she discovered something both startling and disconcerting:
Her coach has never actually performed onstage before. Never told a story to an audience of strangers before. Never actually done the job.
That is why she called me.
I’ve received these calls and emails before. Many times. Someone is preparing to speak – tell a story, deliver a keynote, lecture a group, perform onstage in some way – only to discover that the person helping them to prepare has never actually done the job themselves.
The assumption made by these coaches, teachers, directors, and producers is this:
Preparation for a storytelling or public speaking performance pertains only to the creation of the content. Determine the correct words in the correct order, and you’re ready to go. Nothing to be said about what will actually happen onstage.
This is lunacy.
It’s also called writing. Determining the best words in the best order is something writers do every day. I do it all the time. I’m doing it right now. Those words may be right for the page, but they are certainly not right for the stage.
The way I write for the page and the way I write for the stage is entirely different. The two acts of creation may look the same, but I assure you that they aren’t even close. A multitude of factors makes the two things very different.
Equally important, so much happens while you’re standing onstage. An unimaginable number of things take place in front of the microphone. In fact, the words you choose are directly tied to what takes place onstage. If I were attempting to craft a story absent my knowledge about actually performing that content, the story would be crafted differently and not nearly as well.
Coaching someone to craft and tell a story or deliver a speech without ever having done it yourself is akin to teaching a pilot to fly without ever having flown a plane yourself. It’s like teaching a NASCAR driver to race without ever having driven one of those cars yourself.
It would be like me telling Elysha how to deliver a baby, having never delivered a baby myself. She’d rightfully want to punch me in the nose.
Here’s the craziest part of this bit of lunacy:
It’s not hard for these coaches, teachers, directors, and producers to take a stage and perform every now and then. Open mics abound. Storytelling and stand-up shows can be found in many cities, including the one where this particular storyteller will be performing. Toastmasters afford speakers the opportunity to speak on a variety of subjects all the time. It’s not hard to get onstage every now and then and gain some experience.
Yet so many refuse to do so. Directors and coaches. Corporate trainers. Speaking consultants. None of them are doing the job, yet all of them think they can teach someone to do the job.
Lunacy.
And I don’t think these coaches need to become regulars on the speaking circuit, They need not win storytelling competitions or deliver inspirational addresses or perform in front of thousands in order to be effective.
But they absolutely, positively need to know what it’s like to stand on that stage and tell a story. They need to understand what it is like to deliver a keynote or a sermon or an inspirational address. They need to know how an audience reacts to different types of sentences and combinations of words. They need to know how to punch a paragraph for the stage or disguise a word that is often impossible on the page but easy to do onstage. They need to know how to modulate their voice and use pacing, pausing, and tone to enhance a punch line signal, build suspense, signal the importance of a moment, and maximize surprise.
Not only this, but they should also be able to tell storytellers and public speakers a multitude of other things, including:
What should be in your mind just before you begin speaking?How will the lighting impact your performance?What are the dangers of the unexpected laugh?What are the strategies for controlling your emotions onstage?How to remember what to say?What do you do when you forget what to say?How should you move about the stage?How do you adjust if the audience isn’t responding?What should you be doing one hour before a performance?What should you be doing 15 minutes before a performance?What should you be doing 5 minutes before a performance?How should you ground yourself if you’re shaking?These and so many more.
These are the things you learn when you stand in front of other human beings and share stories, ideas, information, inspiration, and insight.
They are all essential if you hope to perform well.
Equally important, they cannot be taught by people who can craft, revise, and edit content absent that other important part. That essential part. That potentially scary part. The part that puts you on a stage, oftentimes alone, oftentimes feeling vulnerable, almost always doing something that doesn’t come naturally to you. Something you don’t do every day. Something you might be doing for the first time ever.
Like the storyteller who I will be working with this week.
If you hope to coach storytellers well, get your ass onstage every now and then.
If you train speakers in the corporate world, get your ass onstage from time to time.
If you’re consulting with public speakers, presenters, members of the clergy, or anyone else who is planning to speak to an audience of human beings, you’d better be doing the job yourself.
Not constantly. Not professionally. Not even exceedingly well.
But often enough that you understand the challenges and can help navigate those important, imposing waters of live performance.
February 25, 2023
TEDx Cornell University: You Are Your Best Audience
My TEDx Talk from Cornell University has been posted online.
The title of the talk is “You Are Your Best Audience.”
Hope you enjoy!
