Public Speaking-No Thanks

The day I graduated from Western Michigan University with my teaching degree, I had never felt more confident in my life. Even though I had been slightly older than my classmates, finishing that degree had been a dream of mine for years. The whole summer stretched ahead of me, and before graduation, I accepted a first-grade teaching job — with the opportunity to prepare my classroom before the opening day of school.

After graduation, I drove over to the school to see my classroom and get acquainted with the other teachers and staff. The enthusiasm quickly wore off when the principal outlined the school calendar. There it was in plain bold print — Open House and Parent-Teacher Conferences. Speaking to parents during Open House, outlining the curriculum and student expectations for the upcoming school year. I didn't sign up for this. I signed up to teach young people and help them grow and learn. I didn't sign up for public speaking.

As soon as I had the chance, I left school, sat in my car, and panicked. I thought I had left being in front of my peers behind me the day I walked across that graduation stage. How was I going to handle fifty-plus adults staring at me in a classroom, outlining a curriculum, when I had no idea what I was doing?

Make a Plan

The first thing I did was take a drive. Clear my head. Think. Did that help? Absolutely not. I drove home and spoke with my husband. He suggested I take a retail job — get in front of adults over the summer and, by the time fall came, feel comfortable exchanging ideas and having conversations with strangers.

That sounded reasonable. There was a Marshall Field's at the local mall, so I submitted my resume to the summer hire pool. By the end of that week, they called and had an opening in the gift wrap department. I love wrapping gifts — which is not for everyone — and that summer I learned how to expertly trim, tie, and perfect the art of a beautifully presented package.

I loved that job. Everyone who came to the gift wrap counter wanted something special — for a wedding, a birthday, an anniversary, a celebration. And when the customers left, they were smiling because the packages looked stunning. To this day, if I am part of a gift exchange, everyone knows which package I wrapped.

Did the job help with my anxiety about speaking in front of adults? No. By mid-August, panic had set in. I looked at the schedule—Open House was the first week of school—and nothing I tried worked at all: herbal tea, mindfulness, exercise, avoiding caffeine, rehearsing the agenda with other staff members. Everything I tried threw me into another panic.

Hypnotist to the Rescue

Going to a hypnotist seems extreme, right? Looking back, it was desperate. But so was I.

After researching hypnotherapists, I discovered that these professionals help people work through many different phobias — fears that have taken root over a lifetime and won't let go through ordinary means. After I scheduled the appointment, I felt calmer almost immediately. I finally had a plan—someone in my corner.

My appointment was the week before the Open House. The hypnotist had the most pleasant voice and a calm, unhurried demeanor, and I remember thinking, "I want to learn how to do that." More than anything, he inspired confidence that my fear was manageable. That it didn't have to run the show.

After the session, I found myself in such a tranquil state of mind that I didn't want to let it go. The fear hadn't fully disappeared — but it had diminished into something I felt I could actually handle. He gave me two practical tools to take into the room. First, place something on the back wall to focus on — a spot above the faces of the audience, something to anchor my eyes when the nerves threatened to take over. Second, find a friendly face in the room and return to that person when I need steadiness.

The next morning, I placed something special on the back wall of my classroom and practiced looking at it throughout the day. If you have ever spent time with first graders, you already know — their faces are full of joy. That helped too.

Open House

Preparing for that first Open House became something I could actually look forward to. The hypnotist had kept his promise — the world didn't end, and I didn't have a meltdown. As it turned out, the parents — especially the first-time parents sending their children off to school — were just as anxious as I had been. We were nervous together. And that first Open House became a celebration, joyful for the parents and for me.

Do nerves still get the best of me sometimes? Yes. But not the way they did in those early years. I think most people fear public speaking more than they admit. It is not an easy phobia to shake. But I have learned that practicing something, even something that frightens you, diminishes its power over time. This process doesn't eliminate the fear, but it gives you a chance to keep going.

Years later, when I sat down to write my novel The Kismet Key, I created a character named Grace who spent twenty-four years afraid to speak — silenced by a threat she carried alone since childhood. I understood her silence. But I also knew, from a summer at a Marshall Field's gift wrap counter and one quiet afternoon with a hypnotist, that silence doesn't have to be permanent.

Neither does fear.

Keep writing!

Dianne