Speakers: captivate your audiences, but don’t hold them captive

Dr. William Northcutt is a Staff Reporter for the State Gazette and a former English Professor.

When I retired from teaching, I declared, “I will never attend another honors or graduation ceremony”—not because I didn’t enjoy the recognition of students and their thrills, but rather because self-inflated, long-winded speakers made me wish I’d brought a dart gun to put them down. However, as a news reporter, I attend a lot of school, business, and political events. I hear you.

But listen here, ye long-winded orators. I’ve got some advice that will please your audiences and might even save your life, or at the least, keep you from getting pelted with rotten eggs.

If you’re speaking to young people, don’t start off with or even use the phrase that begins, “When I look out at the faces of these young minds…” Hackneyed, cliché, and just plain irritating. It’s not like it’s something that came to you while you were looking at the faces. You were sitting at your table and you thought, “Oh, I’ve heard people say that before. It’s a good’un.” No it’s not, and if you use the phrase, “sea of faces,” I might get out my slingshot. And the students aren’t buying it. You’ve already lost your audience the moment you say that. It feels forced and artificial.

If your speech is directed to students, be real. Talk to these students and their families. They don’t want exaggeration. They want to hear about their lives ahead. Give advice, but don’t pretend that you’ve got all the answers. Don’t tell them that they should always follow their dreams or that they can do anything. While it might be true for some, for most it isn’t. Tell them instead that hard work, networking, and persistence will pay off but that as we develop, we realize that we have to adjust our plans and dreams. That’s reality. It’s not brutal. It’s kind honesty.

Don’t give a long speech unless it’s on the level of speeches by Martin Luther King, Jr., John F. Kennedy, Abraham Lincoln, Mark Twain, Joan Rivers, or George Carlin. When you hit the 11 minute mark, people are starting to squirm. At minute 12, they’re already ordering a sandwich on their Chick-fil-A app, hoping you’ll shut your pie hole soon. By minute 15, they hate you and their sandwich is cold. By minute 20, they’re looking for a hook with which to pull you offstage, or they’re praying that you’ll literally break a leg. If you go a full 30, they’re going to riot, burn down the town, pants you, and possibly throw you into a volcano—to the applause of everyone, even your own kids and significant other.

If you are giving a eulogy or preaching a funeral, remember, it’s about the family, not about you. Make it short, sweet, and meaningful. Don’t abuse their grief to make yourself the focal point. They’re in pain already. Make them feel good, give them hope for peace and understanding, then get out of there. A respectful 15 minutes is the limit. Anything more is for your ego.

When you give your speech, folks might be happy to see you, but like fish and company who stay too long, you start to stink after a while. Don’t stink, rhetoricians. Keep it real. Keep it to the point. Keep it brief.