Talking Through Terror : Though known for ‘lip-flapping’ on the phone, author has long been afraid of public speaking. Years later, she finally confronts her fear.
Although I have many nicknames, perhaps the most annoying is Uniblab. My husband calls me this when I am “lip-flapping,” or talking incessantly (usually on the phone). I think he stole the unflattering word from a robot character in an old “Jetsons” cartoon.
Lip-flapping aside, even the most talkative souls can experience crowd fright. Anyone who’s ever had to address even a dozen or so people whose eyes are solely focused upon you have known sheer terror at least once in their lives.
Such is the case with me. It started in the eighth grade, when I wrote a satirical paper on the care and feeding of parents. My teacher selected me to read the speech in a contest. Yikes! It was one thing to write something, quite another to read it aloud. When it came time to “perform” on that hot Texas summer afternoon, I keeled over and landed on the hard, gray floor. Humiliated in defeat in front of strangers and classmates, I later slumped to the back of the school bus.
After years of proverbial grimace whenever memories of that day surfaced, I decided to get back onto the horse, although I wasn’t sure which end I might land on. Confronting my fears head-on, I decided to volunteer my public speaking services at--picking a school at random--Taft High School in Woodland Hills. My topic? For lack of more glorious inspiration, I selected my profession and contacted the journalism teacher there. We decided on a mutually convenient time, and I marked the date on the calendar, counting the days with all the dread of a Death Row inmate.
Hours before the date approached, the word reached my skin that I was returning to high school. In the spirit of conformity and Clearasil, breakouts ensued. Fortunately, I “oxycuted” ’em and proceeded to worry about the really important considerations--like what to wear. Should I try to fit in--a Beavis and Butt-head T-shirt? The grunge look, a la flannel shirt and frayed denims? What would the teacher think? In the end, I decided on a tasteful blazer with colored denims and the new rage--black jet beads.
Once all the important stuff was taken care of, I realized that I could no longer procrastinate: I needed an outline. I scribbled down some ideas on a small note sheet, still in a fair amount of denial about the experience. I walked into the classroom 10 minutes early. A couple of students were seated at their desks, apparently cramming for a political studies exam. I shuffled around my props--article copies--and nervously wrote a few things on the chalkboard. Even then I knew that this was totally unnecessary, but I simply had to stay busy to keep up the denial that I was moments away from speaking!
Students began creeping in, like the frenetic feathered creatures hovering over the jungle gym in Hitchcock’s “The Birds.” I kept telling myself that I wasn’t nervous, but my hands were so sweaty it wasn’t long before the chalk was soaked and wouldn’t write anymore.
As the teacher introduced me, all sound in the room was muffled, like the squawking gibberish from the mouths of adults in the Charlie Brown cartoons. Then, all eyes on me, I had to pry open my own mouth so the uniblabbing could begin.
I decided that if I continued to glance at several different faces, it would be easy to pretend I was only talking to a couple of people. And you know what? It worked! Words that actually made sense spilled forth, and the Uniblab unit was functioning at optimum capacity. Most of the students seemed interested--although one did sleep for about 10 minutes toward the end. Many asked questions, so many that I had to push to finish my outline.
I only choked a couple of times: A student asked how much money I make--I am the crouton winner, my husband is the breadwinner--and another wanted to know if I get weak in the knees interviewing celebrities.
Rising to the occasion, I tried to answer their questions as truthfully as possible without revealing my secret passion for James Spader and other closely guarded secrets.
When the bell rang, my body relaxed and a greater supply of oxygen returned to my brain. Although I am sure that I didn’t change any of the kids’ lives dramatically, I couldn’t have done too badly since the teacher asked me to be a featured speaker at an upcoming L. A. Unified program. I felt vindicated, released from a past that had haunted me.
If you, too, experience fear at the idea of speaking in public, it might be a good idea to start out with a small speaking experience, such as talking to a class about your job or a special skill. If that seems too daunting, read some stories to a group of children. They’re the most forgiving audience of all, and you’ll be performing a valuable community service by taking them away from the video games.
