It’s been called our greatest fear. Public speaking. And we’re gonna have to do it again.
I remember hearing about Friedrich Nietzsche, crotchety wunderkind of German philosophers. He got tenure when he was 23.
Oh, ja, it was the pinnacle, he said, but it was awful. You had to think in front of other people.
He was a kvetch as well as a nihilist.
Who doesn’t cringe, blush or shrivel when the teacher calls on you? And when you’re the young teacher, the students smell your fear.
The pandemic has freed us, briefly, from having to remember high school tricks.
Breathe deeply. Look for the enthralled person in the audience. Imagine everyone sitting on the toilet.
You can’t hide behind your phone.
But you can learn, as I did, to be a fraud. I was a painfully shy nerd who became a professor, and so had to think in front of other people.
My best trick: start off with a joke or a piece of gossip.
Hey, did you know Nietzsche died of an unmentionable disease? Well . . .
