School Captain Election Speech 2011

The following is the text of the speech I gave at the election for school captain at my school. I was unsuccessful in obtaining the captaincy. That said, this was one of the best speeches I have delivered; in some ways, anyway. I'd like to think that it's been fairly well written and makes good use of rhetorical techniques to convey a very strong message. As far as the delivery went, it was spot on. I delivered the speech without notes and did not make the slightest of missteps (which is a unique event for me—possibly attributed to the short duration of the speech!). The speech, however, was at the same time a massive failure. Whilst it was technically very strong, it forgot the key element, and that was audience. This was an audience that saw me, correctly or not (I'd like to think not), as too much of a grand stander. They were sick of me being the guy up the front giving the speech, so something that emphasised some humility (not to call this speech in the slightest egotistical) would have gone a long way! Genuinely, by the time I had given this speech I had become far more humble and respectful of my class mates, something that I should have conveyed in the speech. Moral of the story, well-written, well-delivered...they both turn to shit when you've forgotten the key element: audience.

The speech:

Good morning year elevens and staff.
On Monday, we were all told that today is our opportunity to convince you why we should be your captains. However, I don’t really think that today is our opportunity. In fact, we’ve been convincing you since we started here at Western Heights.
A school captain must show initiative, that is, to actually get the job done. I have done this on numerous occasions. You wanted the voting system changed, so, a very small group of us got together and successfully petitioned to have the system changed for you.
A school captain must know their school. For years, I have helped you with your timetables, helped you with your subjects, told you who to speak to when something’s gone wrong and reminded you of when we have mufti days or days off.
A school captain must be able to speak in front of a crowd. Just last week, I was asked to speak in front of the whole school. Furthermore, of the 200 students in year eleven, only two people put their hands up to deliver the welcoming address at the formal, one of whom was me.
A school captain must be connected. That is, they must know the students and they must know the staff. Through activities such as LOTE day, Plain English Speaking and other fundraisers, I have kept in contact with all year levels at this school. They know me, I know them. They can put a name to my face.
I am very proud to say that next year, I will be working with one of the best leadership teams Western Heights has ever produced. But, if you want a captain who has worked tirelessly with you to get the most out of our school, and a captain who will continue to work with you to make 2012 the best year we’ve ever had...then “a school captain” must be me. Thank you

The analysis:

Now let's have a look at where it went wrong! Whilst the essence was realistically the major problem (I should have rewritten the speech) there were still a few "point errors" that could have made the difference—especially considering that I lost that election by one person's vote.

Stylistically, the opening sentence is a bit hard to follow: "we were all told that today is our opportunity to convince you why we should be your captains". I've made a simple but sloppy error here. At the start of the sentence, I've used 'we' to mean the students of the year level, but by the end of the sentence 'we' has thinned out to the candidates. Not a particularly big issue, but it kills the flow a little bit—you want people thinking about your ideas, not your words!
The second paragraph is much better, and along the right track, assuming that this construct could work. The audience is made participants in the speech, a useful technique. It promotes a connection between the speaker and the audience. Something I should have done more of as I said in the introduction!
Third paragraph is a little clunky. I've listed four items, when I should have gone for a tricolon (three clearly defined parts). In this case, it's a tetracolon, which is a little more clunky. There's a notion in rhetoric that things are best presented in threes. This is summed up in what is called "the rule of three". It's summed up in Latin by "omne trium perfectum", which essentially says that if it comes in three, it's probably going to be pretty bloody good. Normally I adhere to this instinctively, I haven't in this case. My best guess is that I went with the tetracolon precisely because it breaks that rule. In doing so, the style is a little clunkier but it conveys the idea that I've gone "above and beyond" in my efforts for the year level. Something I don't think my classmates wanted to hear, so I should have stuck with my rule of three!
In the fourth I should have kept up with the theme of doing it "all for you guys". I should have spoken for my classmates, for the school; not just been the twit who put his hand up to take the limelight. This was a major error that I made. I broke away from a key theme and exposed exactly what my classmates didn't like: grandstanding.
In the fifth, I've done it again. The speech took a shift after the fourth, something that held on. Why would I refer to my classmates, even in references to other year levels and stuff, as they? Why not go with you or even "we know each other"? It was a missed opportunity to connect with the audience, and more importantly, show an inherent connection with the school. Both paragraphs represented missed opportunities to transition from being a student who merely occupied to the school, to a member of the school community. There was a great divide between the top students at my school (something that became clear with our top three marks: 99.35, 98.10, 79.something), and this was an issue that I faced. Despite being warned by one of my teachers, I ignored that advice and missed those two key opportunities to pretend that the divide was merely one of scores and not a more intrinsic divide.
I was fairly happy with the last paragraph. If I had rewritten the speech to suit the occasion, most of this paragraph could have stayed. Apart from the parallel structure perhaps "a school captain is". Even though it was a very good rhetorical technique, it was perhaps a little too pretentious; delivering a crappier speech would have worked in my favour! It went back to the theme that I didn't deal with well: the connection. It was peppered with heaps of reference to 'you', 'our', 'we', creating the notion of a team, people in it together. As it happens, despite the conclusion, it was much too late.

This is a fairly good example, of the speeches I've given and still have in any case, of the importance of understanding your audience. I had been so ignorant in this case that I even refused to listen to the advice of a teacher who had told me exactly what I have told you in this: that I needed to tone it down. She told me not to write the speech for me, but to write it for them. She couldn't have been more right. Other than to my close circle of friends, and perhaps the staff (one of whom shook my hand and said it was the "best bloody speech he'd heard"), this speech was an inherent failure. Literature, by design, is all about context. Would we have been able to dream with Martin Luther-King without the dramatic backdrop the Lincoln memorial provided? Would Hitler been able to rouse a nation to war in a room devoid of his devoted nationalist allies? Would Ciccero's words atop the rostrum been as stirring if delivered on flat ground?
The answers to these questions is most likely no. Each of these speakers knew the importance of context, and audience. So much so that in Hitler's case, he very carefully chose his audiences.
That was an important lesson I learned at that election, something I much the wiser for. I had the logos (logical ideas of the speech), I had the pathos (emotion) but I lacked the ethos (connection with the audience). On that day, I found ethos and I have been fascinated by it ever since!

Primary School Report

The other day I was searching for a photo and happened upon some of my old reports from primary school. This was a fantastic trip down memory lane and gave me a bit of an insight into what I was like back then. I had almost forgotten, and was amazed to find that I was actually fairly similar to how I am now. The basic elements of my personality then, seem to have remained. The extra detail here, perhaps, pays homage to my last post which references an abundance of science that stipulates that "who we are" is determined in our first few years of life, and does not coincide with our cognitive development, so to speak.

There was one particular report that I found, however, that really interested me, and surprised me a little. It was a my SOSE report from 2001, back when SOSE was a thing we had to do various projects on different areas of science and society. The idea of SOSE was to integrate knowledge, essentially. To mash together science and history, with the added element of appreciating them in context today. In theory, it seemed a good idea, but in practice it was pretty rubbish—though I won't go there at the moment. One line from this report read:

I congratulate Travis on his excellent speech on his windsock project.

As anybody who has taken the time to read this blog will note, I like my public speaking and I'd also like to think that I'm not too bad at it (I haven't yet put someone to sleep).  It's also something I get quite sentimental about. I do really enjoy it. Not the act of public speaking itself. It's actually awful if I tell you the truth. But the work, the ideas that you go through and most importantly, the wonderful discussions you have with people about the upcoming the speech, and indeed their support.

This particular line of my report was interesting. I once said in an interview that my love affair with public speaking started in year seven, when a class that wasn't particularly fond of me, shall we say, sat there, and clung onto every word. At the end, they all applauded—and not a polite, thank-god-that's-over applause. A truly supportive accepting applause. As it happens though, this may not have been the beginning.

Reading this report reminded me of some of the public speaking I'd done in primary school. It reminded me of the Tournament of Minds, where I was in charge of presenting our project. In the face of total disaster (our project had failed), I cracked a joke that went a way to show the judges that the error was in a shakey hand, and not in our bridge (we had to run a golf ball along a bridge we constructed out of a strict list of materials). That was a hugely liberating moment. That one little line had averted disaster and had earned me the affection of my team mates. A budding engineer, certainly not; this was my mark on the project and where my strengths were best placed. Our success in reaching the state finals can largely be attributed to the way we delegated the right jobs to the right people, this was the first time I felt speaking was my job to own.

My love of public speaking was not only fuelled by success. In 2005, the year before the tournament of minds, we had the opportunity to stand for School Captain. Most of the boys in my year level gave the speeches, and there were some fairly good ones there. In fact, for a group of grade fives, the ability of them to speak well in front of an audience was incredible. However, what was evident, and what they didn't shy away from, was that they had the significant input of their parents inked into their speeches. I on the other hand, flatly refused to allow mum or dad to help me at all. Undoubtedly, it cost me the election, so it was certainly not a smart decision to refuse my parents' help; however, it gave public speaking the first opportunity to help me cope with something. It was the knowledge that my speech, one that I truly owned, had been a good speech, and had been delivered well and with integrity, allowed me to reconcile my defeat.

One last story, and I'll end my reminiscing. Another particularly fond memory I have of public speaking in primary school, that I was also reminded of by the report, was back in what was probably 2004. My grandfather was a World War II veteran, so I always took a great deal of pride in being someone who understood and appreciated the sacrifice of my grandfather and his peers in the armed forces. So when we had someone from the armed forces, a local named Greg Leader, I was naturally very excited about the occasion. He delivered his speech, and at the conclusion, I was asked by my classroom teacher to convey the class' thanks for taking his time to address us. I did so with a huge amount of pride, and after, was given the responsibility of escorting him to his next class. This was an momentous occasion for me at the time. It was only a short speech, and one that was unbelievably difficult to stuff up, but to me, the responsibility was enormous.

So, apparently I lied to Danny Lannen when I told him that my love affair had started with a humble speech to the rowdy boys of 7B. As a short trip to the past has reminded me, speaking has long been a part of my life, and provided there are still people to listen, will continue to be.