“The one minute that changed Constance’s dynamics with
the world, her outlook and worldview, forever”
I met Constance,
a 40-year-old adult literacy worker from Sierra Leone, at a leadership training
conference in Singapore in 1996. We shared a room during the three weeks the
conference lasted. She was chatty and fun to be with.
Dr. Usha Paulraj |
“But a day came,”
continued Constance, “when I surprised myself with the power of my tongue. A
big-built woman pushed me aside saying she needed water more than I did. I
retorted, ‘Of course you do. I know you have many nappies to wash for you’ve
been giving birth every year.’ The woman was shocked speechless. Then began a
torrent of abuse. She yelled at me like mad. But I got more respect from her
from that day.”
Constance’s
newfound felicity with freedom of speech was short-lived. It had not grown with
her years, obviously. Our conference schedule included a course in effective
speaking. As part of the training we were called on to make one-minute speeches
about ourselves.
Constance was
visibly uneasy as she prepared for her speech, and when the time came for her
to address the class, her composure failed her totally. I was both shocked and
amused to find her extremely nervous. Her feet shifted uneasily and her hands
clutched her skirt at the sides. When she spoke her eyes vaguely fixed on
something beyond the window and what she said went over our heads. She was
rated poor by the instructor, who suggested she leave her skirt alone, steady
her feet and look at the audience in the eye when she talked.
Back in the room
I ragged Constance about her nervousness. She smiled lightly as if to mean she
couldn’t have done anything better. She began to tell me of her first
experience of addressing a group.
“That was when I
was doing my teacher’s training. For the first practical lesson I had to face a
class of 12-year-olds. I was so nervous I just stood before the class trying in
vain to pluck words out of my mouth. P’s, t’s and k’s stuck to my tongue and I
could do nothing but stammer. I was painfully aware of what a comic figure I
cut before the children but I could do nothing about it. They were enjoying
every bit of it and were rocking with suppressed mirth.
My professor was
seated at the back as an observer. I saw him writing a note and passing it to
me through a child. I opened it and read: ‘In case you die of heart-failure
today, I don’t want to be held responsible.’ I looked up and saw him striding
out of the room, in disgust,” Constance concluded.
I reminded her
that in a few days there would be another round of one-minute speeches in the
class as per our training schedule.
She became
thoughtful and began to talk with a worried look on her face. “What is this
business of looking people in the eye?” she frowned. “When we were small, we
were instructed not to look in the eye of the people we were talking to. If I
looked at my grandmother in the eye, she would exclaim, ‘What a cheeky little
thing! Can’t you show respect when an elder talks to you?’ Looking at people in
the eye was taken for defiance. So we trained ourselves meticulously to avoid
making contact with people’s eyes while talking to them. Now I’m instructed to
do just the thing I’ve been afraid to do all along. It beats me.”
I offered a
suggestion: “Why don’t you make this the topic of your next one-minute speech?
Just tell us about your difficulty in looking people in the eye when you speak
to them.”
Constance thought
well of the idea. She moved about thoughtfully and during nights I saw her at
her table brooding over pen and paper.
The appointed day
arrived and one by one we all went up and delivered our speeches. When
Constance’s turn came, I waited with bated breath to see what she was going to
do. She walked to the front with firm steps, stood there and passed her eyes
over the whole class, making contact with every pair of eyes that watched her
curiously.
“Friends,” she
began confidently, “let me confess to you that this is my first experience of
looking people in the eye while talking to them. I could not do it during my
first speech and this defect was pointed out to me. I thank our instructor for
her guidance. As a child I was taught that to show respect to people, you must
look down or away when you speak to them. Looking at people in the eye was
considered a sign of cheekiness. But now I realise that I cannot enjoy freedom
of expression unless I learn to look freely in the eyes of the people I am
speaking to. I also think that I feel a lot more comfortable this way. I shall
take this lesson home and train my children to face people when they talk to
them. I hope to be a better parent and teacher in future thanks to this lesson.
I’m grateful for the experience.”
Constance stole
the show that day with her frankness and earnestness. Hers was one of the best
speeches of the day and the instructor gave her the full score of fifty upon
fifty.
The Hindu, Sunday, 18 June
2017
Blogger's note: The author was formerly Professor of English with Bokaro Steel City College. Her children did their graduation and postgraduation at MCC. Dr. Usha Paulraj is also the author of Speak in Style, a book on Communication Skills, and a Memoir.
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