“Life really didn’t begin for me until I moved to Park City,” said Elisabeth Faherty.
So began her speech at the Park City Toastmasters Club, a local chapter of the international public speaking club and nonprofit.
This five-to seven-minute talk was to be her icebreaker speech, her first ever to the group. Faherty took the small audience through her lifelong journey of self actualization, from an anecdote about crashing a bobsled as a child in New England to taking a job in San Francisco and, eventually, the rollercoaster of falling in love and then amicably divorcing her ex-husband.
“I quit my job, we sold our house, I sold my things,” she said. “I left 11 years behind, and I moved to the one place that I knew that I would be able to find joy, and that was Park City.”
At that point, about five minutes into the speech, another club member watching the clock held up a green placard. Faherty had cleared her minimum-allotted time.
She continued. When she came here 15 years ago, she was terrified of being on her own, but she was also excited and hopeful. She had only meant to stay for one ski season, but here, she had found a home.
The timekeeper held up a yellow card — a gentle warning. In 60 seconds, Faherty would be over time.
“Park City gave me the permission to be free to become the person that I was meant to be. I now know what I am capable of, and I’m worthy of a happy and healthy life.”
The semi-circle audience surrounding her stood for a spirited applause. Faherty had stuck the landing and taken the first major step in her Toastmasters journey.
Park City Toastmasters meets every Tuesday at 5:30 p.m. in the Park City Library for an hour and 15 minutes of public speaking fun. Everyone has a role and an opportunity to speak and challenge themselves at the craft.
The local chapter of the 100-year-old organization uses a tried-and-true Toastmasters format that breaks the meeting into three parts: organized speeches, impromptu speeches and evaluations.
Faherty’s speech during the first portion of the meeting was one of three that day. Steve White gave a speech about the end of the Aztec empire. Andy Cier gave a speech in favor of immigration.
Club members will have prepared these organized speeches ahead of time. The topics are up to them, though a coach may help them find a topic that will challenge them appropriately and give them an opportunity to incorporate feedback.
After those, Ashley Pennewell, vice president of public relations, picked on club members (and one nervous Park Record reporter) to give one-to two-minute impromptu speeches on broad topics such as the benefits of public health practices or how walking or running can improve one’s life.
Those impromptu speeches challenged members to think on their feet while also making use of the public speaking skills the club members instill in each other over time and with practice, such as avoiding filler words, looking the audience in the eye, and making strong, purposeful hand movements.
It was also another opportunity for members to try and use the word of the day — “salubrious,” meaning healthy.
Finally, it was time for the evaluations, which themselves were a form of public speaking as club members presented some friendly criticism about the earlier prepared speeches.
Club President Keri Gardner stood and gave feedback to Cier. She noticed he had started his speech pacing around but then found his power stance and hit his point of highest engagement.
Still, Cier had favored looking toward one side of the room.
“I don’t know if you were gazing upon Greg’s face, or maybe you were admiring the outfit of Tracy or Sue Ann, but you really looked at them, and we felt left out over here,” she said, gesturing to the right side of the room.
Overall, each speaker had a mix of successes and opportunities for improvement.
But no matter the finer points of anyone’s performance, everyone had elected to do the unthinkable: speak in front of an audience.
You’ve probably heard, or felt, the sentiment before: People fear public speaking more than death. The Park City club’s vice president, Gregg Davison, said he thinks this comes from negative formative experiences, after which people go on to identify with their own fear.
“We’ve been chastised as younger people,” said Davison. “That’s really, really anchored in our both conscious and subconscious mind.”
Compare this to 4- or 5-year-old children, Davison said, who often have no problem getting up in front of people and speaking, singing and being themselves.
“We lose that joy of speaking in front of the group, and instead fear sets in,” he said.
That might be why the club’s atmosphere is so welcoming and affirming. Davison said the goal is to treat public speaking as a skill you can improve with practice. That attitude attracts two types of members: those who want to overcome the fear, and those who seek the thrill.
“It’s the journey that never ends, building the skill base and the techniques to really connect with people,” Davison said.
Even experienced public speakers have something to learn, Davison said.
“There’s always a point or two that (experienced speakers don’t get) because, once again, it’s a perishable skill,” he said. “If you’re not doing it frequently, you’re going to miss a few points.”
One new attendee had come from Salt Lake just to make some new friends. The club, which often ends with a social on the library lawn, is open to anyone who wants to drop in and begin their journey alongside some of the most daring people around.
“We take all comers,” Davison said. “It’s a great way to see how the club works and see how the people interact and see how supportive it is — and hopefully see yourself building your public speaking acumen.”
Gardner ended the meeting by commending Elizabeth once more on her icebreaker. The great thing about Toastmasters, she said, was how it bonds the members through self actualization.
“You all know me much better than anyone I work with and most of my friends,” Gardner said.
Park City Toastmasters meets every Tuesday at the Park City Library, room 301, at 5:30 p.m. To learn more, visit pctoastmasters.com.