If you’re a communications major (or a soon-to-be-communications major who couldn’t make up their mind at first like me), you probably dreaded, or are currently dreading, COMM105: Public Speaking and Professional Communication. Or maybe you’re not dreading it, because you’re a weirdo who likes public speaking. Okay, maybe I’m just jealous. Public speaking is terrifying to me.
So, when I heard the semester during which I would be taking this public speaking course was going to be remote, I jumped for joy. Alright! I thought. How will we even give speeches over Zoom? That’s impossible!
Let me tell you friends: it is quite possible.
Though we’ve had to record and upload the majority of our speeches as videos so far, there was in fact one occasion during which me and my classmates had to give our speeches live over Zoom. Once I heard that this was going to be the case, I curled up into a cocoon of blankets and introversion.
The only benefit of this semester being held remotely was supposed to be the fact that I wouldn’t have to stand up at a podium in front of my peers and say, “Uh, um, yeah, and so that’s why you should recycle, yes, um, uh, thank you,” while my classmates clapped out of pity, as if to convince me my speech was some sort of eloquently delivered, cutting-edge hot take rather than a pile of hot garbage.
So, once I heard this assumed benefit of remote learning was being taken away from me, I knew I had to either go into preparation mode, or risk public humiliation. I chose preparation mode. I typed my speech out, highlighted important points, and scribbled all over it until it was a document only I could understand. After I created my speech, I needed an audience to try it out on. Humans were too scary, so I ruled my roommates out. I finally settled on practicing my speech on my fish. All in all, I’m sad to report that I sat by their tank reciting the speech so often that they now swim away at the sight of me.
Finally, it came time to actually give my speech. I was as ready as I would ever be; I turned my camera on for the first time since the first day of class, which I think we can all agree is a big step. I’m of the opinion that if you say you have your camera on in class, every class, all classes at this point in the semester, you’re either a teacher’s pet or a liar. But that’s just me.
Anyway, I had my nice sweater on so people thought I was put-together, though in reality, I was also wearing a pair of my boyfriend’s sweatpants that were recently the victim of a violent salsa-spilling incident.
Finally, I had my speech right below the camera-line: stealthily hidden where no one could see it. With that, I gave the best performance of the speech I possibly could.
The performance was lacking, at best. I was clearly reading from a sheet of paper, which, if you didn’t know, is sort of the first no-no when it comes to public speaking.
If that weren’t enough, the few times that I did look up from my paper, I found myself staring into the Zoom box my professor was in, because her box was the only one with a person and not a name in it. Every time she wrote something down I looked back down at my paper, thought, “Shoot! Eye contact!” looked back up, and noticed that, once again, she was taking note of the times I looked down. I eventually resigned myself to the fact that I was looking down too much, and just started reciting my speech looking down to my sweatpants. When did that coffee stain get there?
And after all that anxiety, what did I get? 20 black screens, five to seven of which gave the Zoom applause-emoji reaction to show the professor that they were at least paying enough attention to know when one person’s speech ended and the next person’s began. It’s okay though, because I had still conquered my fear of Zoom public speaking! I’m sure that all of this online public speaking experience will carry over into in-person public speaking, right? Right.