published in 2014 on my tumblr
I have suffered from a rather severe form of that twenty-first century plague that is fear of public speaking. I’ve said it before that I don’t really like scenarios where all eyes are on me and expecting me to do something – I never did.
Of course, the smart thing to do in this case would’ve been to put myself out there and kill a bit of that panic each time it came around, until I was comfortable enough with the situation to not break out in a cold sweat when it loomed on the horizon. However, dodging the bullet has always been a specialty of mine. So I chose flight over fight: I figured out early in junior high that I didn’t really need an oral assessment to get graded – actually answering questions during class would get me there. Along with written tests, that strategy provided enough grades for me that until the end of highschool I only had to actually stand up and be the target of “interrogation” a handful of times.
Then again, every single one of those times I had all symptoms: shaking hands, cold sweat and my heart beating frantically somewhere in my throat. I made it a point of honor to desperately ignore my body going haywire. It is a philosophy I chose early on and it’s done me as much harm as it has done me good, butfor better or worse: you don’t cower, you don’t tremble, you don’t bare your throat; you don’t show weakness and you don’t bleed openly. It’s the one thing having an older brother taught me.
The comforting words of friends and parents regarding my issue weren’t comforting at all. They all revolved around the same point: no need to be afraid, after all you’ve learned, you know, you’re ok. I knew I knew my lessons and it didn’t help at all. There was only one thing that helped – looking straight in the teacher’s eye and acting bold instead of flustered. Whenever I felt challenged, “bold” would turn into “sassy”. At some point in high school, my English teacher insisted I go on stage and read god-knows-what during some school celebration, in spite of all my protests. For a brief moment, I considered trying that trick they always suggest in movies: imagine your audience is naked. In hindsight, I am glad I didn’t – considering my audience it would’ve probably killed my libido for life. Instead, I made a point of purposefully marching to the microphone, read super-fast without lifting my eyes from the paper and march just as purposefully backstage again. After pulling that off, I never had to “perform” again.
Then came the uni and with it the dreaded specter of oral exams. However, those proved to be a piece of cake: there were only two people at the desk across of me, I could still pull the ‘look them in the eye and don’t show weakness’ trick. The handful of students behind me could easily be ignored. Being well prepared and in control over my voice as well as always going in with the first group actually made me ace most of those exams. At least in the moments that mattered – when I got out of the room, my feet starting trembling and I usually needed to sit down to get my bearings. But at that time, I was coping. (Well, that is, if you don’t count my first ever job interview, when I panicked and didn’t show up, but that’s a story for another time.)
For several years afterwards, there were few occasions that required me to do public speaking and I dodged those – luckily there are people in this world who adore the spotlight and they happily obliged when I asked them to fill in for me. And then… after a couple of years in a nerve-wrecking job for a technical support hotline, the opportunity came to apply for a trainer position instead. For several weeks, I would have to train newbies – standing in front of them, all eyes on me. And between the rather soul-sucking job I had and the rather scary idea of walking into a room and saying “Hello, my name is and I will be your trainer for the next weeks” to a bunch of strangers, I chose the latter.
The first time I actually did it, I congratulated myself at the end of the day for surviving it. I had had all sorts of scenarios in my head in which I got ripped to shreds, but none of them came to pass. I have since been told that my nervousness didn’t show. And that, in spite of me not being able to pull the defiance card I had always played in school in front of the teachers to cover it. I had instead resorted to my other favorite weapon social interaction arsenal – humor. I somehow succeeded in keeping myself in check enough for the day to be counted as a success. I have since moved on, though it is probably note-worthy that I have really enjoyed the training part of my trainer job.
Thinking back to all this, I realize that the encouragement speech I always got about how being in control of the subject is supposed to make it easier, was (at least in my case) utter bullshit. I was equally in control of that during examinations as I was during training, though there is a world of difference between them. It is indeed a question of control, but not over the subject. It is all about control of the crowd.
So… since imagining my audience naked is not really something I usually want to do, my coping strategies are based completely on my public. If I am in control of them, I am relaxed and crack jokes and when everyone is smiling or laughing, then the tension is gone and we can turn public speaking into a pleasant banter. If I feel like I am being assessed or have something to prove, I turn a different leaf. I will pull through out of sheer pride and spite, though completely exhausted.
