The other day, Aidamarie made an observation about our respective personalities: She will occasionally take a risk, while I am risk-aversive at all costs.
No, you will never see me bungee jump, rock climb, skydive or endeavor in a spelunking expedition. I agree, in most situations I will make the choice that is less risky. Robert Frost's famous poem, "The Road Not Taken," concludes with the thought of how beneficial it was (to the writer) to take the road less traveled. This traveler, however, has almost always journeyed on the beaten path.
Like many people, the fear of failure and embarrassment – or death, in the case of skydiving – has made me reticent to leave my happy confines. This month, though, I ventured out of my comfort zone, not once, but twice.
I remember my parents owned a copy of "The Book of Lists," first released in 1977. It was an assortment of lists compiled through extensive surveys. One of the categories was a list of the 14 greatest human fears. Number one on the list: Speaking before a group. Surprisingly, at least to me, death was number seven on the list.
In my most recent Evening Sun blog, I spoke about giving a speech at the June 4 Norwich Student Athletic Council banquet, one where I addressed the outgoing seniors. It was my first public speech in 10 years, and I can count on one hand how many times I have spoken in front of a large group over the last 18 years. I told many people – before and since the speech – that I am much more comfortable on the other side of the podium. It is my job to chronicle the actions of the protagonists, not become a protagonist.
Art Rigas, AD for Norwich, called me on a Wednesday, six days before the banquet. He asked if I would be interested in speaking to the senior athletes. I didn't say no, but I didn't say yes, either. I told him I would check my schedule to make sure there were no conflicts.
After checking my schedule, my first thought was to avoid something that would be uncomfortable. I planned to write up a speech, send it to Art, and ask him to read it to the seniors.
I came home and told Aida about the request to speak to the NHS seniors, and my plan to write a speech for them...oh, and my avoidance strategy. She put the kibosh on said plan right away. "Patrick, this is a great honor, you need to speak at the banquet," Aida said, almost reprimanding me for my attempt to slink away from public speaking.
