I was once terrified of even the thought of giving a speech or presentation. Simply put, I didn’t know how. I had never been given the tools to speak publicly.
As it turns out, Speech 101 is a college requirement. I put off signing up for that course as long as possible, and registered for it in my senior year.
I think I was holding out for just the right teacher; Mrs. Cook was her name, I think. She started us out with the easiest of speeches, a demonstration of something you know how to make or do.
I chose baklava, the Greek pastry of phyllo dough, nuts and honey. We were married students, living on a budget and we lived on Uncle’s extended farm property.
My husband had just completed a Penn State Extension course in beekeeping so we had our own honey. We collected black walnuts from the environs of our isolated abode, and piled them on a gravel driveway to dry.
A local band of frugal squirrels nearly depleted our collection of nuts. We found most of them stored, in a hollowed-out tree trunk next to the garage shed. We were, however, able to recover enough to hammer open for the baklava.
Long story short, I earned an A grade on the demonstration and Mrs. Cook narrowly escaped a broken tooth on a black walnut shell. But importantly I was well on my way to becoming a confident public speaker.
Another assignment from that speech course was the Interview. We were asked to interview someone whom we wanted to get to know. I chose a Funeral Director, as I was curious about his work. Truly wanting to know something is a handy tool with which to begin an interview.
Feeling much like Oprah, equipped with well-prepared notes, a microphone, and my husband’s new Superscope tape recorder fresh from his ethnomusicology field work, I set out on my first interview and earned another A grade.
Those A grades really should have gone to Mrs. Cook. She was a gifted teacher and taught this student an invaluable life skill which I have applied in my own teaching of sociology and anthropology to quite a few young college students.
The best precept I drew from Speech 101 and my learned application of it, is a version of Fredric’s advice to Jo in Little Women, “write what you know.” Speak about what you know and your speaking ability will shine. Stick to what you know.
I, for one am eternally grateful to the good teachers who have taught me life lessons that have stuck. For example, Miss Mummert taught me to type like lightning, with few errors, and believe me I treasure that skill every day.
I had few memorable college teachers, or they were memorable in the “don’t sign up for his class, he’s crazy and everybody got a D on the first exam,” kind of way. But Mrs. Cook made up for all of them, put together.
I hope I gave Mrs. Cook a good evaluation, come the end of that academic year. As a college teacher myself, I remember some of those anonymous evaluations. The majority of my student evaluations were positive and as I recall, a few were downright uplifting. I’m saying publicly today, in case I didn’t back then, “thank you Mrs. Cook, your teaching gift made a difference in my life.”
If you feel so inclined, tell a teacher “Thank you.”