On December 22nd, 2019, my brother achieved the Boy Scout rank of Eagle Scout. The Eagle Scout ceremony is the gathering bigger than the birthday, grander than graduation, more critical than the college acceptance. This ceremony is like the wedding between a 17-year-old boy and the essence of the Boy Scouts of America. At my brother’s ceremony, Mom made me speak. Publicly. Reading her words. In her place.
My anxiety presents itself physically, for everyone to witness. I had a full audience, from family and friends to teachers and babysitters. The words that I read were not my own but Moms. She reminisced on the life of my brother, and raising him, loving him. I stumbled over sentiments of endearment and pride. In no way could I relate to these words on the same level as Mom, the woman who birthed us.
That stumbling of words manifested as shivering fingers. With all eyes and ears focused on me and the promising poetry of Mom, my knees clattered like the skeletons in that “Spooky Scary Skeletons” song. My body temperature rose to ER-worthy levels (probably). Preparing for this speech, no anxiety had presented itself mentally, emotionally, or hey, even spiritually. The adrenaline and fight or flight instinct only hit me like a bullet as I stepped before the podium. Anxiety is not the same from person to person. My anxiety feels uncontrollable because it only exists in a context, and it is nowhere near consistent.
When in a speaking session, a student may be experiencing anxiety that we cannot relate to ourselves. As tutors, we need to be open-minded, supportive, and not make assumptions. There are many options for addressing symptoms of speech anxiety. One way is to treat the student as we would want someone to treat us: with patience and respect. When I am in a speaking session and I am presenting those physical symptoms, I hope that my tutor says “Hey, how are you feeling? Do you want some water? How about we sit down and share your topic like we are having a conversation?” In this situation, I would want someone to validate my feelings, provide a moment of rest, and keep us grounded in the situation.