Finding Your Voice Is a Task You Never Outgrow
What my daughter’s first stage performance and a conference of professional speakers taught me about vocation, fear, and being heard.
My 4 year-old daughter had her first acting performance over the weekend, as “Barnum #3” in a kindergarteners’ stage production of “The Greatest Showman” (which is an excellent movie, as I have come to learn over the course of watching her rehearse).
She did great. I can only imagine how intimidating it is to get on stage in a darkened theatre, as a 4 year old, with a massive crowd of people cheering the names of other children while you stare into the abyss looking for your own family.
And then take the microphone.
Coincidentally, I was at the annual convention for the Canadian Association of Public Speakers last weekend. Or, “CAPS” to those in the know.
Up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea what CAPS was. Or that it even existed. But, a friend of mine who was also attending said, “Jordan - you really should be at this thing.”
And, since it was in Halifax (a place to which I’d never been), I went. Note to self: Halifax in December is not the same Halifax that you see on TV.
I arrive. I am in the soaring lobby of the Westin Nova Scotian hotel. I see people wearing very colourful blazers. Lots of very loud, plastic rimmed eyeglasses. A few patterned Hawaiian shirts. Some light up shoes. And at least one absolutely over the top haircut.
It was basically Best in Show - except with only one dog (who had a rhinestoned collar and harness on, to be sure).
I look at the agenda and realize that there is a session starting in a few minutes, entitled “Permission to Be Me” with a subtitle that I don’t read.
I go into the room and sit down. It’s me and a number of women. Many women. Too many women for this to be coincidental.
They start speaking. About their challenges as speakers, as businesswomen. It was touching, and interesting. There were tears. Someone sang a song.
And then, at one point, someone says, “It’s great to have an ally here.” Ally? Who, me?
I look back at the Convention agenda, and put it together - the subtitle to this session is “Creating Sacred Space to Explore How Women Are Building Their Businesses.”
Ah. Now I get it.
So, I slowly sink into my seat further. And I listen. It was the quietest I had been all weekend.
And it opened up into a weekend that turned out to be one of the most interesting, enlightening experiences I’ve had in a long time. The people were genuinely kind and interested in why I was there. Everyone was so welcoming.
And, yes - when you go to a convention of keynote speakers, facilitators and, in many ways, performers, yes - there is a lot of talking.
Now, it’s one thing to go to a conference or convention and meet people and talk. That is, after all, the point of these things - to speak with other people.
But this one was, well, different. 300 or so professional speakers in one room gets loud. Everyone has something to say and everyone wants to talk with everyone.
It cuts the other way too - you get that many people who speak for a living into one room, over three days, and you get to see so many keynotes, workshops and lectures done really, really well.
There were times where I was watching someone give a keynote, and thinking, “Wow. How did you get so good at this?”
(Watch people like Steve Spangler and Mike Scharenbroich and tell me you aren’t blown away.)
These people are doing more than speaking - they are engaged in a well-honed craft. An art form that I really hadn’t appreciated as much as I could have until that weekend.
A speech language pathologist once told me that lawyers are professional speakers.
No, they aren’t on stages in convention centres or stadiums or high school auditoriums. They generally aren’t scripted. But they speak: giving advice; offering insight; leading others to solve their problems.
These are people who are using their voice as part of their work.
And, I guess I realize that, in many ways, we are all called on to do the same sort of thing.
Maybe not on the same stage. Maybe not in the same manner. Or, not as loudly.
But, we use our voices - we perform - in one way or another, to create, inspire or simply do something with the time and skills we have.
The Latin vocare means “to call” or “to summon”.
Vocation and voice share the same root word.
Watching my daughter step onto that stage, I wasn’t thinking about confidence or performance or applause.
I was thinking about how early we learn what it feels like to speak when we’re not sure anyone is listening - or when we’re not even really ready to say what it is that needs to be said.
That weekend in Halifax reminded me that most of us never really stop doing that.
Different ages. Different rooms. Different stakes.
Same risk.
Vocation isn’t just what we do; it’s where we’re willing to use our voice, even - or especially - when we’re afraid to.
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