Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Yael Eylat-Tanaka - How Has Toastmasters Impacted My Life?

HOW HAS TOASTMASTERS IMPACTED MY LIFE?

My mother asked me why I participate in Toastmasters.  Why, indeed.  I work almost seven days a week, and much of my free time otherwise is devoted to watercolor painting.  Why take on yet another endeavor, one that is challenging and at times even grueling?  The short answer: Because it's scary.  That's the simplest, most direct, albeit undoubtedly cryptic answer.  But stay with me a while.  Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "Do the thing you fear, and the death of fear is certain."  I have written about sins and virtues, and by far my favorite of the virtues is courage.  Mettle, moxie, bravery.  If I can face my fear, look it straight in the eye and not cower, then I can become its master.  What does this sort of mastery mean?  Why do it?  Why subject myself to the discomfort associated with butterflies in the stomach, jelly knees, dry lips and flushed cheeks, just for the pleasure of being "judged" by another who probably is as scared as I am.  But this sort of defensive analysis only serves to cement fear's dominance over my life, rather than begin to create mastery over myself.  Facing one's fears with courage means breaking down the elements, analyzing them coldly, and eventually overcoming them all by embracing them.  Let me give you an example.
Last night, I gave a speech about a subject with which I am very familiar.  I was well prepared, and even gave my very first PowerPoint presentation.   However, somewhere toward the end of my speech, I began to lose my concentration.  My throat tightened, my voice began to break, and I felt the rush of butterflies in my innards.  My thoughts were beginning to focus on the timer's green light, and I began to worry that I would not be able to say everything I had intended.  I did finish my speech on time, but I was also painfully aware that I had lost my train of thought.
And that was a source of embarrassment.  Embarrassment - or fear thereof - is one of the principal reasons that people avoid public speaking.  I am guilty as charged. 
I have suffered from deep self-consciousness for years.  I joined Toastmasters many years ago  with one goal in mind: to finally get the nerve to sing in public.  Mind you, I can't even sing in front of my mother!  As a child, I had a nice singing voice, and my friends would ask me to sing during recess!  Yet, as an adult, I became mute.  What happened?
I think it came about subtly. I sang for my husband, and he enjoyed it as long as I sang in Hebrew, my native tongue, but became increasingly critical when I began to sing in English. My accent, he said.  That was enough to shut me down.  After that, I tried to only sing in Hebrew, but the damage had been done:  it became a contrivance and I felt unnatural and stifled.  When I sang in front of my mother, she chimed in with various suggestions that I found that distracting.  So I piped down again. Little by little, I sang less and less.  As the years went by, cultural tastes shifted, and singing assumed a fancy style characterized more by the vocal acrobatics one hears on American Idol.  I remember commenting to my husband that even Frank Sinatra could not compete in that venue.  And certainly, neither could I.  So I determined to overcome my fears, and joined Toastmasters.  After all, public speaking can't possibly be that different from public singing, can it?
What am I afraid of?  Singing is sometimes difficult. In some ways, it is just like speaking, with the lilting melodious sounds produced to a rhythm. But unlike speaking, singing engages what is known as the chest register and the head register.  And the transition is unattractive.  When singing, the face may contort to attain and hold a note, the mouth may tremble, or worse, remain open wide exposing teeth and tongue, or the mike might be held too close or too far, all the while assuming facial expressions which reflect one's emotions.  Such nakedness can be unnerving.  Since I'm no Celine Dion, I feel self-conscious about showing my emotions.  When I watch Celine sing, her eyes half closed in ecstasy, her passion clearly expressed in her singing, I feel nervous. Yet, she looks fine; appropriate to the task.  She does not look out of place.  She is doing what we are expecting her to do.  If she were merely standing with her arms at her sides and singing like a child, that would be out of place, and we, the audience, would feel uncomfortable.  So how do I translate this knowledge to myself?
The first step is learning to speak; more specifically, speak in front of people.  Submit to the discomfort associated with being watched and evaluated.  Allow the discomfort to exist, to live within you; allow yourself to feel the fear, the self-consciousness.  Then, analyze exactly what it is you feel self-conscious or embarrassed about.  It is only by facing one's demons that we come to realize that many of them are demons of our own creation, and are no more demonic than a specter.

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