Standing on a ballroom stage inside The Palazzo in Las Vegas, I faced down one of my greatest fears – public speaking.
I deal with glossophobia. Perhaps you’ve never heard the term, but you might experience it, too. It’s the fear of public speaking. This ranks as one of the most common phobias in the United States.
I’m a little unusual, though, because I prayed for a public speaking opportunity. Why? Because, I won’t let fear rule my life. I want to experience life from the driver’s seat, instead of letting fear shove me into the back seat. I refuse to be crippled by fear.
Anyway, public speaking doesn’t risk my health or expose me to pain or danger. At worst, I’d damage my ego, and I’m not one to let ego rob me of opportunities. Instead, when I see a window of opportunity, I’m mindful to seize it before that window closes, especially if all I risk is my pride. After all, I never knew anyone who died of a bruised ego!
So, when Barbara Baird, of “Women’s Outdoor News,” called me just before Halloween and asked me to speak during the Women of the Gun reception at SHOT Show, she provided an answer to my prayers.
Barbara trusted I would do a good job, because she knew I would prepare extensively. Unrelenting commitment to practice and preparation helped me throughout my Bianchi Cup career.
True to form, I started in on my speech months in advance. On Halloween night, I wrote 30 pages of notes, ideas and stories and spread them out on our big dining room table. By Thanksgiving, my notes reached 75 pages.
About two decades previously, Goldman Sachs invited me to speak at one of their executive workshops. The chairperson didn’t offer any guidance as to what I should speak on, so I leaned on my experience attending motivational lectures and attempted to offer a motivational message. Afterward, the chairperson told me they’d hoped to hear more about my personal story and my experience in the shooting sport.
Lesson learned. If someone invites you to speak, they want to hear about you. This time, I knew to lean into my story as a Chinese-American shooter who started competing in a masculine sport as a middle-age woman and how I overcame challenges during my journey to becoming a champion.
Interestingly, my shooting journey started thanks to my willingness to face fear. I enrolled in shooting courses at a local community college because I felt afraid of guns, and I figured the best way to get over that fear would be to learn how to safely handle a firearm and shoot. Little did I know those shooting courses would put me on a path to a championship pistol shooting career.
Now, by talking about my journey in the sport on stage in front of a room full of people, I would tackle another fear.
First, though, I needed to nail my script. As I whittled down my notes, I focused on blending a message that included a dose of humor, a dash of inspiration, and anecdotes that told the story of my career.
I consulted a few extra hands to help me edit the script. Two days before my speech, my daughter read my script aloud while my granddaughter listened. They offered feedback that helped me eliminate repetition and fine-tune the language so I could give the speech in the natural way I talk, instead of the stiffer language that bogged down my script before final edits. I practiced reading the script in my condo room days before the speech to iron out the kinks.
Some are born with a gift for public speaking. Not me. I steer clear of debates, and I don’t consider myself a great orator or a quick-witted wordsmith. Plus, at my age, my memory sometimes fails me, and I forget what I want to say as my mind gets pulled into tangents.
But, I know the power of preparation, focus and repetition, and nobody could say I came on stage unprepared.
When the time came, I wouldn’t be winging this speech. I put care into preparing for this speech, much as I would before stepping to the shooting line on a competition day.
I carefully planned my clothes, selecting a business casual outfit with a distinguishing color combination that helped show me in my best light. A stop at my hairdresser boosted my confidence. I got comfortable in my heels in advance of the speech, walking the length of the ballroom several times until I trusted I wouldn’t trip when the big moment arrived. I rehearsed my speech with a dry run in the empty ballroom about half an hour before the event started.
OK, I thought, this is it. No backing out now. I felt as ready as I’d ever be.
Shortly before I went on stage, I learned that not only would I be speaking, but I had been designated as the keynote speaker. How had I missed this fact? Never mind that, though, because this was no time to panic, especially not with my family in the crowd.
Our three children joined my husband, Carlos, in attendance. My kids never saw me shoot as a fierce, dedicated, sharpened competitor at the Bianchi Cup. They just know me as Mom. Now, would they see Mom wilt on stage, or rise to the moment?
“Mommy, you’ve got this,” one of my daughters told me before I went on stage. “This is your story. You’ve got this.”
She was right. I did have this.
On stage, I spoke fluently and confidently. The audience gave me their full attention. My preparation helped me fend off anxiety.
Afterward, several people told me how much they enjoyed my speech or how I inspired them. It felt good to know I hadn’t flubbed this opportunity.
In the end, I didn’t bruise my ego, but I felt comfortable taking that risk. Letting fear rule us is no way to go through life. It’s so much more rewarding to seize opportunities when they present themselves and show your fears that they don’t own you.
Vera Koo is a first-generation Chinese American woman. She’s a wife and mother, author, entrepreneur and retired competition shooter. Along with two published books -- "The Most Unlikely Champion" and "Wisdom and Things: Essays From an Unlikely Champion" -- she writes her column, Vera Koo, at "Women’s Outdoor News." View all posts by Vera Koo
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