An amalgamation of skills acquired across a lifetime continues to intrigue and also puzzle me. My skill set offers surprises, too. Where did it come from? Were there models in my life that I emulated that led me to them?
Public speaking is a primary one. My evolution as a speaker was a gradual one. I never envisioned when I was in my late teens or early 20s that I’d become someone who would eventually speak before a myriad of groups, and deliver a host of disparate topics, mainly after the age of 40.
When I was a player attending classes mainly to maintain my spot on the Maine Black Bears fall baseball roster and so I could pitch for John Winkin, I enrolled in Public Speaking 101. The class of primarily freshman and sophomores—most of whom dreaded getting up to speak—offered me that first taste of the thrill that I’ve always experienced standing before a group, and the sense of power inherent in being able to do that. While most people equate speaking in public with fear, cold sweats, and ostracism, I was learning back in 1980 that this skill was a valuable one to have in your back pocket.
At 18, I wasn’t committed to my craft. I simply chose a topic and basically got up and riffed on a few things I knew, threw in a joke or two, and thought I was something special. I wasn’t. What allowed me to pull this off back then was some belief I managed to summon from somewhere. I believed I could do it.
At Hyles-Anderson, preaching was required from time to time. I remember flying home to Maine in 1983 to visit family and being asked by the pastor at my home church to preach at Sunday night service. I think I preached on hell. Not a topic that wins friends and influences people. I spent a week preparing for that one.
I could have been this guy.
After washing out with God and Jack Hyles and coming back to Maine, I rarely had occasion to speak in public. I do remember a few instances while working for one of Maine’s largest power utilities, standing up in a meeting, or confronting management across the table during union negotiations—I was a shop steward at the time in Local #1837 of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers. I was summoning the skills I had, but had done little to build and improve upon since my college days.
For seven years beginning in 2006, I traveled across the southern half of the state, speaking about workforce development and the importance of training a vibrant, 21st century cohort of workers in Maine. I was a regular on the Rotary circuit, in front of local Chambers of Commerce, in front of HR leaders at yearly conferences at The Samoset in Rockport, and any other place where I could find an audience. I ended up spearheaded an initiative called WorkReady. I ended up giving my own “state of the state’s workforce” address in 2012 right before I got “kicked to the curb” because Maine elected a thick-headed governor who thought he knew more than anyone else (but didn’t). I then gathered up my public speaking and the important ancillary and complimentary skills of facilitation into the realm of advocacy for people with disabilities, seniors staying in their homes, and local economic development.
This was the period of time when I got serious about my craft. I wanted to get better at it, even though I had some talent and experience. I read books about delivery, pacing, and mannerisms that hold people’s attention. I was committed to personal improvement. I haven’t even touched on the countless talks I’ve given about local town team baseball related to my first book. Then of course, there’s “the Moxie years” and my two books about the distinctly-different soft drink rooted in New England and its rabid cult of followers.
I think I’m more like this guy.
An opportunity to sell Medicare insurance came along in the fall of 2017. Because I was confident in my ability to stand before an audience of strangers and represent my chosen topic with confidence, capability, and cultivate a connection with those in the room, I chose to roll out “The ABCs of Medicare” as a means of marketing the Medicare Advantage plans I had in my portfolio.
This week, I’ve presented three Medicare seminars. I have two more next week. I’m writing business this AEP, unlike last year, which was my first rodeo with Medicare’s open enrollment season that runs from mid-October to early December.
Taking that public speaking class at Orono turns out to be a fortuitous choice. I didn’t know that nearly 40 years ago, and the generous returns it would yield down through the years. I anticipate that will continue in settings I don’t even know about.