By Steve Flairty
NKyTribune columnist
While sharing a Sunday religious message at a Lexington nursing home a few years back, an elderly woman in a wheelchair suddenly shouted out, “OH, SHUT UP.” Not missing a beat, I grinned and continued my talk while learning later the individual was dealing with issues of dementia. At least she was awake, and a few others were not.
On another occasion, at a small-town Rotary club gathering, the meeting director walked up to me and, in so many words, told me to stop because of meeting time limitations.
For sure, when one indulges the time and attention of others in public, there can be some uneasy moments needing some response.
I enjoy speaking to groups around Kentucky, mostly while talking about some of the state’s most awesome people — those I’ve profiled in my Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes book series. Over the years, I’ve shared with a wide range of audiences, including community service clubs, retired teachers, county extension members, seniors in churches or nursing homes, military veterans, and public and private schools.
Generally, I’ve encountered receptive audiences and I look forward to speaking to more in the future. But as mentioned, I’ve discovered that there can be taxing moments along the way, and I hope to have learned from those experiences.
Perhaps I should be graceful when I see people texting while I speak. Maybe they’re checking on their kids with the babysitter or answering a text from the caregiver of their aged grandmother. But it happens, whether I like it or not. Enough said.
Sometimes, speaking to audiences brings responses of the misunderstanding kind. Speaking to a gathering of about a dozen people in a side room of a restaurant, a man continually answered my rhetorical questions out loud and followed with comments. It was as if he was carrying on a conversation with his neighbor, and I was the neighbor.
How did I handle it? I humored him a bit for a short while, but then basically continued my talk without responding directly. That, and some odd grins from others seeing what he was doing, got him to be quiet. In fairness, I think the man simply didn’t understand the incongruent nature of what he was doing.
In one of my early Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes talks, a college teacher held up her hand afterward and asked: “Aren’t there any women heroes in Kentucky?” It was embarrassing for me, and deservedly so. In the selections I chose for my talk, all were men. Today, I make sure I present a more balanced gender variety, though I do now offer a specific talk on women in the Kentucky Humanities on the talks I do, giving those seeking a speaker a better choice of subjects for their audience.
I’ve learned, as alluded to earlier, that some groups, such as Rotary and Kiwanis clubs, desire a shorter presentation because members often come at lunchtime in the middle of their workdays, a sort of “eat and listen on the run” scenario. It’s best to keep it short and sweet, and that takes some practice, though necessary.
Groups generally allow me to have my published books available for sale, usually after I speak. Not wanting to sound like a book huckster, I simply allow the host to mention the books for sale. One time, while speaking at a nursing home, books were missing and it likely was because people thought they were free literature to take. I hope the takers, at least, read them.
What I’ve learned is that women tend to buy more books than men, and elderly individuals — likely because they are on fixed incomes — are not big buyers. I appreciate the individuals who come to the table and simply talk about my subjects. I’m always hopeful they will not hold up the line for others, but it happens. And I like to remind myself that my talks are designed primarily to inspire others to act honorably in their daily lives, and that is its own reward.
While Covid kept live audiences to a minimum in the last few years, I was asked to share via Zoom with an AARP membership a few months ago. I felt uncomfortable the whole time I was online, mostly because it was much harder to “read” the audience’s reception, which helps. I looked forward to finishing my allotted time and hope that it didn’t show in my demeanor. After viewing a video of the presentation, it certainly did show. I like the natural feel of a live group or class experience, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Covid doesn’t change things again. That, or practice more.
I’ve addressed audiences of 300 to 400 people, but one time — at a library — two showed up, and only because they were former students of mine. I appreciate the fact that they patiently listened as I spoke… though probably being as embarrassed as me.
And maybe the most frustrating experience of all was when I drove eighty miles one way to speak to a large group, learning on arrival that a miscommunication had them schedule another speaker for the occasion. I blended into the audience, and best I recall, the speaker was pretty good, but I digress…
Does anybody out there want to give me a try? I realize things don’t always go perfectly.