Author: Mary Houle

Sometimes insomnia pays off. I had the honour of watching Jacinda Ardern’s farewell to the New Zealand Parliament live last night. It was a great speech. She was a great leader. Here are some highlights from this lover of good speeches.

Of course, she told stories, of course. It was chock full of them.

There was great writing, delivered genuinely:
“Politics has never been a tick list for me. It’s always been about progress. Sometimes you can measure it, and sometimes you can’t. 
…There will be no list of the lives saved because of the banning of military-style semi-automatic weapons.”

Naturally, she had many people to thank. She included tightly-written lines to make them meaningful: “To Holly, who has the biggest heart but the sharpest mind.” Adding, with a cracking voice: “Your dad would be so proud of you.”

And obviously, a kicker closing:
“I cannot determine what will define my time in this place, but I do hope I’ve demonstrated something else entirely: 
That you can be anxious, sensitive, kind, and wear your heart on your sleeve.
You can be a mother. Or not.
You can be an ex-Mormon. Or not.
You can be a nerd, a cryer, a hugger.
You can be all of these things.
And not only can you be here…
You can lead.
Just like me.”

But most impressive—and what replays of the speech likely won’t show but at 3am I had nothing better to do than to watch—was what happened after. She took a sip of water and stood there awkwardly for a moment. I saw the nerd she described herself as. Then, a lineup started to form, what seemed to be almost every member of Parliament lining up to send her off. It looked like Easter Sunday communion at Notre Dame Basilica, only instead of the body of Christ they were there for a hug from Jacinda.
The Māori members sang to pass the time as each said their goodbye. She took a quick moment with every one. Some hugs were longer than others. You could feel the memories well up in the longer ones.
Indeed, you can be a hugger, and you can lead.
And, as it turns out, you can leave.

Farewell, Jacinda Ardern. And thank you.

Dr. Jennifer Fraser, author of The Bullied Brain, testified to a House of Commons committee in what I consider an Olympic-level performance. She not only had to talk about child abuse and suicide from a very personal place, but she had to keep it together to deliver her message in the limited time the committee gave her. I had the honour of coaching her to help her let the emotion surface—as it should—but then continue on. We both agree, no one could do this alone. I think her performance is athletic. In order to nail the landing, she had to control her body’s response, including her breathing pattern. Here she talks about working with me and the role of emotion in public speaking:

Sometimes it’s not the moments before a presentation, podcast, or speech when the stress hits you. Sometimes it’s after it’s all done that anxiety hits hardest: Was I rambling? Did I make sense? Did I really say that?
If you’ve been asked to be a guest on a podcast, even though it seems like it’ll just be a nice conversation, it’s still wise to be prepared. It can reduce stress both before and after your engagement.

I was recently a guest on the Don’t Be a Jerk at Work Podcast, hosted by the fabulous Tara Kemes and Sandy Gunn.
I *might* have some regrets.

I prepared for it. I had been given most of the questions ahead of time, which was really helpful. (Thanks Tara and Sandy!) I had a number of stories queued up and main messages I wanted to convey. Here is what my prep looked like:

Because of this prep, I had an absolute blast. I told a story off the top that I actually hadn’t planned on telling. (On re-listen, I can almost hear the gears turning in my head as I’m deciding whether or not to tell it.) But it worked out and it got me through the most stressful part of any interview: the first three minutes.
I practiced what I do for my clients: I prepared so that I could be myself. I had a great time. Still, I had some post-game regret about that story I hadn’t planned to tell. For me, there is always post-game regret, but I handle it better than I used to. Preparation takes care of a lot of it, but there are always things I think I could have said better, there are things I wish I’d said, and things I wish I didn’t say.
But now I don’t dwell on those. I learn from them, and I move on. In fact, that story is one of the best parts of this interview, but there are some pieces I’ll shift on next telling.

Like burning my hand on a stove element: I pull my hand away and learn my lessons. I don’t keep my hand on the burner anymore. Nothing is perfect. That will always be the case in conversations like podcast or panels.

Preparation helps. Learn your lessons. Don’t keep your hand on the burner.
It’s better to say something imperfectly than stay silent. This world needs you.

Get in touch if you’d like help preparing to be a guest for an upcoming podcast or panel.
Prepare to be yourself.

Last month, Chrystia Freeland’s personal story elevated this announcement. Have a look for yourself. It turned an otherwise run-of-the-mill speech (that we all knew was coming) into an opportunity to connect emotionally with the listener. Well done, Deputy Prime Minister.

Add a story to your presentation. It makes all the difference.

A group of people who know me pretty well threw this together. My heart exploded. Never underestimate the power of words. You can make your own here.

I ask my clients to be brave in many ways every day. Here’s where I dare to practice what I preach, and just put it out there. Imperfection for the win!

This is a story I put together for my storytelling group with Adele Fedorak. Such a great way to practice and deliver stories, and Adele is magical. Brace yourself for this one, though. I had to.