Poetry Alive

This article was originally published in the Daily Post Athenian in Athens, Tennessee on November 3, 2017.

My daughter is a neologist. It was at dinner one evening when it occurred to me there may be some brilliance shrouded in her linguistic stumbles. “Daddy’s hair is brack,” she asserted.

To my query, “Brack?” she quickly supported her new word with a definition: “Brack,” she repeated, “almost black but still brown.” And all of a sudden, Coach Shep and I found ourselves party to neologism over our meatloaf and roasted potatoes.

Sloane needs names for things and her consternation is visible if she does not have the appropriate word. As we deliberated breakfast Wednesday morning, I saw a furrow creep over her brow as she stammered, struggling to articulate. She stuttered for a moment longer and finally admitted defeat.

“I don’t have the word, momma. For the place?” “The Beanery?” I suggested and her face softened. She laughed and agreed “I just forgot for a second.”

The comfort that a mere “name,” brought my child got me thinking about how much of our understanding of the world hangs on what we call things. “I don’t have the word, momma.”

There’s a branch of neologism that springs from this tendency to name things in an effort to process. Take “Coulrophobia,” for instance.

I suspected there was a “-phobia” for my fear of clowns but did not “have the word.” Enter Google. “Coulrophobia.” The etymology of the word is about as shaky as my inner peace any time Pennywise shows up on my social media feed. The etymology is uncertain because “Coulrophobia” is not, for all I can tell, a clinical diagnosis, but is instead a neologism like many you will find on informal “phobia” lists.

So, I Googled “scary clown” to see if having the word for my fear would diminish it. It did not.

If you type “fear of…” into the search bar, “clowns” is actually the seventh suggestion to fill the pre-populated search terms. Can you guess the first?

Glossophobia.

According to Poetry Alive! The fear of public speaking is the most common fear. Ashleigh and Skylar, the accomplished actors who travel the country bringing poetry to life, did not offer the word “Glossophobia” to the 90 or so fourth graders with whom they discussed the fear of public speaking, but instead, offered a solution to overcome it.

Poetry Alive! is an award-winning performance troupe that has, since 1984, traveled the country challenging audience’s notions about poetry. It’s not the dusty-book poetry you may remember from high school, but is instead a rambunctious ride through time and space, an innovative and inspiring presentation of an oft misunderstood literary form.

Poetry Alive! uses nothing more than two chairs and sharp performance skills to exhilarate their audiences on a trip through centuries of poetry. Thanks to generous support from the C. Scott & Muriel Mayfield Family Foundation and the Tennessee Arts Commission, Athens Area Council for the Arts (AACA) is able to bring Poetry Alive! to Athens each year to perform for local students.

Monday and Tuesday AACA presented five performances and one workshop in Athens City and McMinn County Schools. Students from second through twelfth grade joined Ashleigh and Skylar on stage and acted out the seven ages of man as described by William Shakespeare in As You Like It or “whiffled” and “burbled” for their peers as Lewis Carrol’s “Jabberwock.” More than1,200 students enjoyed a grade-level specific, cross-curricular performance and about 100 lucky fourth grade students participated in a follow-up workshop with Skylar and Ashleigh.

It was during this workshop that Ashleigh, a seasoned performer with a degree in Contemporary Theatre, confessed that she has stage fright. She had asked for a show of hands from those afraid to speak in public. A majority of the children, and some of the teachers, raised their hands. Ashleigh did not say “They call your fear ‘glossophobia.’”

She simply said, “You know what? I get stage fright too.” Then she continued to explain and illustrate Poetry Alive’s Four Performance Points ®.

I suspect that, if the fear of public speaking is the most common fear, many of you feel some anxiety when faced with the task of addressing a crowd. I’d like to do more than offer you the word for it, so here are those proven :

1. Assume a confident stance.

This initial hurdle is, according to Poetry Alive, not as hard as you might think. It’s scientifically proven that you trick yourself into feeling happy by smiling and, similarly, you can make yourself feel confident merely by projecting confidence. Like Ashleigh says “If you have to: ‘fake it ‘til you make it.’”

2. Face your audience.

This is seemingly obvious, but it is surprisingly easy to turn your back on an audience or forget to look up from your notes. Facing your audience is critical in theatre and eye contact goes a long way in delivering a compelling speech.

3. Fill your space.

Good storytellers understand that their bodies are narrative tools. The point of this tip is that gestures and movements should be large. A wise performer understands the nuance of this tip – you’d fill your space differently speaking to your women’s circle at Church, for instance, than you would performing in a musical comedy. We’d all do well to practice this though, because it’s true that our physical presence affects the message we convey.

4. Project your voice.

Projection is different than yelling. My friend and vocal instructor, Jen Nunley, likes to remind me that projection does not have to be over-complicated. Simply stand rooted in your “confident stance” and take a deep breath. That breath will power and amplify your voice.

I trust that the young people who studied these Performance Points ® with Skylar and Ashleigh are now better equipped for class presentations and, hopefully, a bit less weary about speaking in public.

Perhaps you’ve gleaned something useful from these points and will find some comfort and confidence in conveying your story – whether you’re sharing a stage with the forty-fourth President of the United States like my friend Whitney Kimball Coe did earlier this week, or inventing new words at the dinner table, like my precocious Sloane.