Giving a speech can be paralysing for many. This is my one tip to surviving it

I once saw a poster advertising Toastmasters, an organisation that coaches public speaking. It said: “There are two moments in a person’s life when they are truly alone. Just before they die and just before they make a speech.” Most people agree with that sentiment – which is why it’s such a good poster – and try to avoid public speaking whenever they can.

All of us, though, will face occasions when we have to stand up and speak to a group of people. Maybe it’s a presentation at work, a speech at a wedding or a eulogy at a funeral. It could be a 21st, a retirement, or just a farewell to colleagues when you go from one job to another. For many, the dread that comes with anticipating such a task is paralysing.

But there are some of us who’ve had to learn to shake off such fears, because public speaking is part of our job. We’re forced to gain confidence partly because doing the thing you fear makes it less daunting on the next occasion. The first time I made a speech, I was petrified. These days, I hardly turn a hair.

As I grew more used to speechifying, I discovered that I loved connecting with an audience. There is nothing like the feeling you get when you realise that you and those listening to you are one, caught up in the same moment, reacting to the same ideas. It doesn’t always happen, of course. Not every live audience is warm and sympathetic. I once faced a phalanx of high school students who sat with their arms crossed and their expressions hostile. That felt like climbing Everest.

And there was a “town hall”, as they’re called, that went completely haywire as the audience split into bitterly divided factions and spat insults at one another. Town halls are meant to be open to everyone to have their say but I don’t think the organisers realised how much pent-up hostility there was in their community. And we’ve all watched excruciatingly embarrassing speeches made by a drunken best man or the young person who has celebrated too hard turning 21. Note to everyone: don’t drink and speak in public.

To the men and women who smile and listen and react openly and generously when they watch yet another speaker, may I express my heartfelt gratitude.

JANE CARO

Sometimes, when you are making a speech, the gods are just against you. I’ve had people faint and ambulances called (nothing I said, I promise). I’ve watched everyone get evacuated just as I was building to my biggest laugh. And I’ve experienced more tech stuff-ups than I care to recall. I’ve even had an audience member grab the mic – that was wild. But, whatever happens, it’s not my job to judge an audience; it’s my job to connect with them.

There are a couple of things that help me do that. The first is remembering that there is only ever an audience of one. That an audience, no matter how large, never listens to you as a hydra-headed monster. Every person in the room is listening to you as an individual. That thought helps me relax, sure, but I’ve discovered it does more.

Speaking to an audience of one makes your speech sound less like a speech and more like you are just talking. It’s a double win: your speech becomes not just easier to say but much easier to listen to.