The Winning Medal

 As a writer, I sometimes find myself agreeing with Michael Kanin, an Oscar-winning playwright, when he wrote:

For forty odd years in this noble profession
 

I’ve harboured a guilt and my conscience is smitten.
 

So here is my slightly embarrassed confession –
 

I don’t like to write, but I love to have written.
 

One of the frustrating things about writing is the delay between finishing the work and your audience reading it.  You can sweat over a manuscript for months until you’re finally happy with it, but by the time the book gets into print and anyone reads it, you’ve practically forgotten all about it.
 

I think that’s one of the reasons I’m loving public speaking.  The response from the audience is so immediate.  There is still writing involved, as you have to craft your speech or story in a way that entertains or informs the audience and keeps them interested.  But then you get to give your speech live to your audience, and it’s fantastic to hear the applause and to have an immediate response. 
 

Toastmasters is definitely a great way to learn the art of public speaking, as you give your speech in a ‘friendly’ setting and then you get lots of feedback from your mentor.  Last week I gave my first proper speech to the group, and I loved it.  (Although, like Michael Kanin’s poem above, it’s perhaps more accurate to say that it was having FINISHED it that I loved.  Because before the speech I felt physically sick and during the speech I was shaking like a leaf!)
 

 But then something unexpected happened. At the end of the meeting, we all had to vote on who we thought was the best speaker of the evening – “just for a bit of fun, it doesn’t mean anything”.  I was totally shocked when I won, but oh, how thrilling it was!  I put my “Best Speaker” certificate up on the wall and for the next few days kept sneaking glances at it and felt myself beam with pleasure.
 

And it got me thinking about what I’ve been saying to my children in the past, at sports days or other competing events.  I’ve always trotted out the same line they get at school: “winning doesn’t matter, it’s the taking part that counts”.  And I can see the reasoning behind this.  There can only be one winner, and you don’t want them devastated if they don’t win.  It can be very damaging to children if their self-esteem is wrapped up in whether they “achieve” or “win” something.
 

Having said that, I’ve been reminded how sweet it feels to win, and I don’t want them to miss out on that feeling either.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to start entering them into competitions and beating them with a whip until they come back with the winning medal.  But I do think it's important to help them find their talents.  To discover what it is that they have a natural aptitude for and that gives them a thrill. And when they’ve found it, to encourage them into doing the absolute best that they possibly can.  Because winning isn’t everything, but it certainly feels good when it happens.
 

‘Til later.