By ERIC ROBERTS

My apologies to Shakespeare—but I had to catch your attention. Please, keep your ears! I just wanted to share my experience of participating in Speaking Up, the public speaking club sponsored by the Office of Career Development, which held its first meeting of the year on November 1. The club, which meets roughly once a month and is open to all members of the Juilliard community, was founded two years ago for the purpose of helping performing artists develop their speaking skills.

I decided to try Speaking Up to overcome my own fear of speaking in front of groups (maybe what keeps most of you away from this program). I attended my first session as an observer, not a speaker. After the prepared speeches on the given topic—sincerity—Derek Mithaug, who is director of career development and runs the meetings, assigned his "table topics," an after-speech activity that involves selecting people in the room to come up and extemporaneously discuss a random topic for one minute. From Bulgarian blankets to the citrus long-horned beetle, Derek can ask anyone to talk about anything. Though I only wanted to sit in on the session, I was asked to talk about what I had gotten out of the speeches. Nervously, I went to the podium and managed to answer, "I really enjoyed everyone's speeches on sincerity," before I sat down. As Derek's question was longer than my 10-second answer, I knew that I had a lot to learn.

Speaking Up not only helps participants to gain confidence as speakers, but also to become better listeners, creators, and critical thinkers.

One of the things that intrigued me was that Jane Cho, assistant director of career development, shook a box of Tic Tacs from the back of the room periodically during people's speeches. At first I wondered, "Can Jane really smell the speaker's breath from that far away?" But I soon learned that the rattling sound lets speakers know if they say "ah" or "um" in the speech. Even Derek got the Tic Tacs, when he was introducing the speakers and talking about the sessions—a fact that really helped the rest of us feel at ease!

The first speech I gave, once I was ready, was on the topic of perfection. Exploring this subject, I learned that "perfection" is an end state: you can't go from perfect to more perfect, or to less perfect (which would mean perfect but less so—an absurdity). You can only go from perfect to less than perfect. The word can function as an invisible boundary to our thinking—but it can also prescribe a direction for a process, one of reaching out to see how far we can go.

For my second speech, the topic was "conservatory"—just what does that word mean, and what are the responsibilities of an institution that goes by such a name? Does conserving (a thing, a trend, a practice) preclude change and growth? Can innovation work parallel to conservation, adding to the treasure of whatever's being conserved, and extending its domain forward in a remarkable way? We can recognize the benefits of historical relevance without having to conform to them.

What I noticed in this session was that everyone's approach was completely different. One person told a very personal story, another focused on historical relevance, and yet another included more political feelings and ideas. I also discovered that being part of the audience is just as important as being the speaker. By observing what persuades me, I can pick out the essential techniques that might make my own audience receptive to my ideas. As a member of the audience, I respond to the involvement and passion of the speaker. I want to feel motivated or taken on a "journey"—after all, the speaker isn't talking to him- or herself.

After each speech, everyone fills out a form evaluating how the speaker performed, from the standpoint of each element—preparation, enthusiasm, eye contact, speed/pace, and vocal variety, among others. While comments are meant to be encouraging, they can be a little vague or even contradictory at times. After my first speech, one person commented, "Spontaneity might be more beneficial than memorization," while another wrote "No notes—very admirable"! While the comments were more critical for my latest speech, they were constructive, and the evaluators know that I'm serious about developing my speaking skills.

Though I joke with the actors and tell them they have an advantage over the musicians and dancers, who are not trained to speak, the program is beneficial for them as well. When acting, they're saying words that someone else wrote; with Speaking Up, they get a chance to speak what they feel. From a percussionist's perspective, I look for internal rhythms in the way I construct and present a speech. I try to avoid speaking in a "monotone," as an expressive use of vocal variety is just as important in a speech as the specific dynamic indications are in a piece by Schubert or Stravinsky.

Speaking Up is not only helping me to gain confidence as a speaker, but also to become a better listener, creator, and critical thinker. At my percussion recital, I will be able to talk to my audience in addition to performing my music. Eventually, after I learn more, I would like to "coach" other students. I think that all Juilliard artists should consider this program. It's fun, informative—and speaking intelligently on the spur of the moment is the most powerful communication skills that anyone can have. (And on the lighter side, one participant remarked, "After improving my speaking skills, I can now tell my waiter with confidence that my steak isn't cooked the way I want it, and that I need him to take it back.")

Eric Roberts is a bachelor's student in percussion.