Writing Boots

On communication, professional and otherwise.

No speeches but in stories: Advice for public speakers of all ages

by // 4 Comments

Recently I got an email that I might have dismissed as Not My Job. But the email was from a teacher. And this teacher clearly needed my help.

Hi David,

My name is Ariel Margolis. I am an 8th Grade Teacher at Kehillah Schechter Academy, located south of Boston, MA (USA). One of my school's special traditions is to have every 8th grader compose and deliver a graduation speech. As the teacher in charge of the ceremony, I want to give the very best I can to my students so that they not only feel empowered to deliver their words but also give them important skills that they will need for their futures.

I was wondering if you would be willing to speak with me to share your thoughts, ideas, and suggestions along with best practices about speech writing and delivery that would help make my students' speeches pop and as a result, have my students shine.

Please let me know if you are willing to speak with me.

Thank you in advance.

Best,

Ariel

I didn’t answer Ariel right away. In fact, I slept on it. In fact, before sleeping on it, I drank on it. The next day, I wrote Ariel back through a clarifying hangover.

Ariel—

I understand why you're looking for help. Your task is impossible! How many speeches are we talking about here? How long are the speeches supposed to be? How many days and nights will the ceremony last?!

More importantly: How in the world are all these kids going to find something candid, fresh and worthwhile to say to fellow students who know full well that all they're thinking about is summer break, and making it last as long as possible because on the other side is the terror of high school? And how are the other students and parents going to bring themselves to listen to one another grind through these platitudes? This “special tradition” that you speak of sounds more like a hoary habit, and a guaranteed snoozefest for everyone involved.

The idea of which personally offends me, a thousand miles away in Chicago. That's because I'm editor of Vital Speeches of the Day, which means it's my job to search the world for vital speeches. Most days, this feels like scouring the Indian Ocean for Malaysian Airlines Flight 370. Why? Because most speeches delivered in the world are mind-numbing. Why? Because children learn very early on that a speech is a compulsory ceremonial thing, rather than a voluntary communication thing. So CEOs, nonprofit directors, government officials and church elders use speeches to do exactly what they learned as children that speeches are for: saying nothing, at length. This is not a proper use of precious human time.

Besides, these are eight graders. Even theoretically speaking, how many of them could have developed a genuine idea that hasn't occurred to their classmates a thousand times?

This ceremony is going to be torture, Ariel, for everyone involved. And you're the only person who can stop it!

And the good news is, you don't have to stop it. Just alter it. Instead of asking them to “compose and deliver a graduation speech,” simply have them write and tell a story that illustrates the significance of their time at Kehillah Schechter Academy. Tell them the only requirement for the story is that it be true (even if that means it's preposterously exaggerated and full of outright fabrications). “No ideas but in things,” said the poet William Carlos Williams. No speeches but in stories, says Vital Speeches editor David Murray.

If you can teach your students to stand in front of their fellow travelers and give meaning to life's long slog by organizing it into mythology that welds individuals into a community—well now, that's something worth doing. And something that will make them valuable citizens for the rest of their lives. It's a special tradition indeed.

That's the extent of my thoughts, ideas, suggestions and best practices.

Even if you follow my advice—and I understand if you don't; special traditions don't change easy—I can't guarantee you a scintillating graduation ceremony. Lots of kids, like lots of grown-ups, are pretty dreadful storytellers. But if your school is truly an interesting and distinctive place, there's a chance that the graduates' stories will harmonize, and something truly magical and memorable could take place. Whereas, with the Forced March of the Graduation Speeches, there is no chance of that at all.

Whether or not you take my advice, please do let me know how it goes.

Best regards,

David Murray, Editor

Vital Speeches of the Day

How did Ariel respond? He took a couple of days, during which I assumed he had written me off as an asshole. I always forget that teachers have actual work to do.

Finally he wrote back to say:

"Your response was… TOTALLY HILARIOUS AND WITH MUCH TRUTH TO IT. Being part of this school and its traditions, I can fairly say that unless members of the audience have a close connection with the speakers, they would probably rather (a) melt ice (b) swallow a pitchfork or (c) both."

He shared my advice with the heads of the school, who also received it well, one writing back:

"I love that you wrote [DAVID] and even more so loved his answer. I HATE graduation speeches and I HATE the quotes from Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers). None of this is genuine and it is written to please the adults."

The ambitious Ariel is looking for professional speechwriters to help the students craft their stories. Anyone interested may reach out to him at amargolis at ksa-ne dot org.

The rest of us wish him luck in his attempt to change the stubbornest tradition in one school—and then the world!

Foreigners: You can’t live with ’em, but without ’em, you’d be the strange one

by // 12 Comments

Just back from Bournemouth, England, where I spoke at the third annual conference of the U.K. Speechwriters' Guild.

What did I learn there?

Mainly, as I explain in my full conference coverage over at Vital Speeches: Human beings heroically resist efforts to homogenize human culture.

Repeatedly I was told that the "American" rhetorical technique I most frequently flog—namely, the use of personal anecdotes to inject emotional candor into a speech—would be laughed out of the lecture hall in the U.K. and Europe as hopelessly smarmy, glib and narcissistic.

“Yes, people like to be entertained,” said veteran U.K. political and corporate speechwriter Stuart Mole. “But there is nothing as exciting as ideas.”

Agreed, one hundred percent. But just how often do our speakers step to the lectern with a heaping helping of spine-tingling new ideas? So often, compelling speeches are old, worn, friendly ideas made freshly powerful by a speaker's personal connection and expressed devotion to them.

After my "speechwriting jam session," the speechwriters volunteered that they themselves—these hard-bitten British and European speechwriters—were moved emotionally by the gooey American speech examples I showed.

But that didn't mean they were about to persuade their reserved speechwriting clients to try that authenticity rubbish out on their skeptical local audiences.

I think they expected me to try to convince them. I had no interest in doing so. If they want to write dry speeches for insecure speakers to be delivered to audiences who expect to be bored, that's perfectly all right with me.

In fact, it's fascinating!

WATCH: Here's a glimpse of a speechwriting conference across the pond.

I’m imagining a communication conference without lies

by // 3 Comments

One of the reasons people tell so many tall tales at communication conferences is the darn things are so big that no one ever gets to feeling secure enough to tell the truth. So the first liar doesn't stand a chance.

Another reason is that most communication conferences are aimed to rope in everybody—from employee communications to marketing, from public relations to organizational development. So you can't assume the other attenders share your aims, or even your language.

And a final reason is that the conference producer shares everyone's interest in phony big talk, because flattering the crowd is a big part of the racket.

What if you got just a few serious communicators together—a certain culture of communicators, executive communications pros and speechwriters only, say—and the discussion was moderated by someone interested only in knowing the truth about how things really work. Someone who understands that no communication department feels "world class" from the inside. Someone who acknowledges you weren't born to be a corporate communicator and you've got other ideas still.

And then one at a time, everyone just shared the work they'd done that they were proudest of, and let the others ask questions. Then after that, everyone went around and shared their biggest problems, and let others make suggestions?

And everybody ate and drank in between, and got to know each other real well, and kept in touch, some for many years?

Wouldn't it be fun to go to a conference like that? Wouldn't it be exciting to go to a conference like that?

Well that's the kind of meeting that Vital Speeches is holding, at Pfizer headquarters in New York, Oct. 14-15. It's called Leadership Communication Days, and the format won't vary much from what I've just described.

I know, because I'm organizing the thing, and I'm going to be that awesome moderator.

There's a downside to keeping a group small, of course (we're capping it at 25): We have to charge about $2K for the event; and because it's such a pint-sized posse, the hotel drove a hard bargain and people have to reserve their room by Aug. 13.

So if you happen to be interested in coming to this one, register quick.

If you're interested in going to another conference like this on a subject closer to your heart, let me know.

I always love to get together and tell the truth about things.

Don't you?