A little food, a little dance....

Well, I'm off to the luncheon. I feel confident and I know what to talk about. After thinking it over a zillion times I decided to change the speech significantly and not touch on Dr. Viscardi's legacy. I just thought of something better; that's all.

More to come later...

Update (11:55pm): Perfect. Everything went as close to perfection as possible. The speech was by far the best one I've given in years and the audience- young and old, Irish and American- enjoyed it completely.

Other than that I got to meet some new friends, reacquaint with old pals, enjoy a great meal, take a few snapshots, and more.

What can I say? I'm a lucky blankety-blank!

Update (June 4, 2008): I don't mean to sound vain but I look pretty damned good in this pic!

Speech time!

For the third straight year I will be going to an annual luncheon sponsored by the Physically Challenged Irish And American Youth Team in honor of a delegation of disabled children visiting from the emerald isle. Last year I was a nervous wreck preparing and then giving a short speech to give to the event’s attendees but it thankfully turned out very well:

In the end I got a standing ovation (from those who could stand, that is) and it was then that I was filled with pride in accomplishing both what I had been sent out to do as well as to overcome the mistakes I made in previous occasions.

This year I will probably be made to speak again. Honestly, I don’t mind having to talk in front of crowds big or small. My main preoccupation is with saying the right thing in the right way to the right crowd. In retrospect, I nailed the first two parts but I don’t think it resonated well with the kids.

Yet if I’m granted the opportunity to speak at next Tuesday’s affair I anticipate that I will have the kids’ attention. The topic for my speech will be on the late Henry Viscardi Jr. - a visionary who emphasized that disabled people deserve to be empowered in order to be functional members of society. I was lucky enough not only to graduate from the school that bares his name but to also have met him on several occasions. He was truly an inspiration and someone I have never forgotten.

In a small cabinet in my bedroom I have a copy of one of his books: Give Us the Tools. I believe it is in that book where he said:

"Life demands love. Loving means to love that which is unlovable, or it is no virtue at all. Faith means believing the unbelievable, and to hope means hoping when things are hopeless."

I am ready for the luncheon.

Keltic Dreams

The dance troupe in the video below performed briefly during the luncheon I attended Wednesday afternoon. Their dancing was breathtaking and their singing was angelic. For me it was the highlight of the entire event. (More details on the luncheon soon).

Oratory

This may sound highly unusual but I love to do public presentations. Whether it involves giving a speech, making a toast, or doing a presentation I absolutely enjoy speaking in front of crowds. Given I have a raspy, soft voice that is barely audible but I really like public speaking.

Nevertheless the problem with my oratory in public has to do with preparation. More specifically, I have a terrible time figuring out what to discuss and being sufficiently prepared for it. Rather than feeling petrified in front of the audience I become a wreck before appearing in front of a crowd.

Tomorrow I will be attending a luncheon at the Consulate General of Ireland located in midtown. I’m not completely sure if the event is related to the Physically Challenged Irish and American Youth Team though I suspect that something similar to what occurred in May could happen:

Though I was not told to prepare a speech I knew I had to have one ready just in case I was instructed to speak. Sure enough, after arriving to the ballroom where the luncheon was being held I was greeted with a bear hug by the charity’s director and subsequently instructed to speak to the audience soon after.

“I just want you to greet these kids and welcome them to the States and tell them a bit about yourself.”

“No worries, sir. I’ve had it all planned out for days.”

“Just make it short cause there’ll be a lot of things to do.”

“Trust me Bill. Everything’s under control,” I replied while recalling all the mistakes I had made in the previous year’s speech such as drawing blanks, forgetting my main points, and stammering terribly.

Though I was feeling terribly overanxious less than two days before speaking, I was inspired at the last second and things worked out very well.

Ideally I would have preferred to think of something entirely original and not base my possible speech on a song or a quote. However, desperation caught the best of me and earlier today I found what could be the ideal quote from Irish novelist Edna O’Brien:

“When anyone asks me about the Irish character, I say look at the trees. Maimed, stark and misshapen, but ferociously tenacious.”

After mentioning that quote I would go on to describe how that accurately describes the many disabled children aided by the charity over the years. Though they may not have all the physical capacities that others have, these children and young adults have the heart and determination to move forward and strive to become productive members of society. They do not ask for handouts or pity but rather the chance to contribute to themselves and others for the greater good of us all. They appreciate all the support and morale people like you provide for much like the trees that O’Brien alluded to these kids stand tall and blossom the fruits of their labor.

Wow. That felt like a mouthful.

I have a hunch that I’m definitely prepared for tomorrow.

My Five (Part Two)

That’s me somewhere behind the mic and Bill Broderick’s arm/improvised mic stand

Wednesday May 30^th

By that morning I was less worried than the previous day, but still a little jittery from making sure that the speech I was going to give later would turn out to be as perfect as possible. Hence, I made sure to wake up a little late and have a very light breakfast before departing for Manhattan.

The luncheon was hosted in the building of an important financial firm located in midtown. The guests of honor were a delegation of physically disabled children from Ireland who visit the New York area every year on a goodwill trip. Their visit was funded through the same charity that helped pay for part of my undergrad tuition and gave me a boost during my darkest days a few years back: the Physically Challenged Irish and American Youth Team. Unfortunately, it’s not a very well-known charity despite all of the benevolent actions they do including pay for reconstructive surgeries of severely disabled kids. Nevertheless, it was a great honor for me to get to attend the luncheon and try to welcome these kids to the U.S. and New York.

Though I was not told to prepare a speech I knew I had to have one ready just in case I was instructed to speak. Sure enough, after arriving to the ballroom where the luncheon was being held I was greeted with a bear hug by the charity’s director and subsequently instructed to speak to the audience soon after.

“I just want you to greet these kids and welcome them to the States and tell them a bit about yourself.”

“No worries, sir. I’ve had it all planned out for days.”

“Just make it short cause there’ll be a lot of things to do.”

“Trust me Bill. Everything’s under control,” I replied while recalling all the mistakes I had made in the previous year’s speech such as drawing blanks, forgetting my main points, and stammering terribly.

After about an hour where I talked with a few VIP guests/prospective charity contributors, drank a glass of wine to ease my nerves, and headed to the bathroom to splash some water on my face, I was directed to come up to the podium to speak.

“A lo que Dios quiera (it’s God’s will now),” I said to myself as I spoke.

In retrospect I’ve replayed those three minutes in my mind many times to try to pinpoint any errors. However, I can say the following without a scintilla of a doubt:

I was flawless.

Though nobody seemed to know who The Pogues were I introduced the song I was about to read as a double metaphor; one for the voyage the Irish delegation took to New York and second, how the charity helps kids in the U.S. and Ireland attain their goals much like the ship in the song. I read some lyrics from "The Irish Rover" including this stanza:

“On the 4th of July, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the cold bay of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall in New York
She was a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore and aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her
She had several blasts, she had 27 masts
And we called her the Irish Rover”

In the end I got a standing ovation (from those who could stand, that is) and it was then that I was filled with pride in accomplishing both what I had been sent out to do as well as to overcome the mistakes I made in previous occasions.

Throughout the rest of the luncheon I was far more relaxed and I talked to many people. With some I reminisced over old times such as high school or previous charity events. A representative of The Irish Consulate in New York remarked that I should've invited guests to sing "The Irish Rover" with me. (My reply: "Good idea, but we would've needed Shane McGowen!") With one incredibly attractive chaperone of the Irish delegation we talked about the poetry of Yates and Seamus Haney.

After the luncheon, I relaxed by visiting the nearby lobby of the Waldorf=Astoria and killing time before taking the Access-A-Ride back home. My normally dormant ego had blossomed by the time I commuted home, and it would stay that way for a few days.

Redemption truly is a wonderful feeling.

Sunday June 3^rd

Like I mentioned in a post that day, Sunday was my grandmother’s 86^th birthday. To all of my family it was an important occasion to celebrate another year of life of such an important, loved matriarch. I had the same feelings too but I also looked at it from the pessimistic standpoint of how much longer she has to live. Ever since my dad passed away I have been much more sensitive to issues of death. I just can’t deal with it as well as I ought to.

Sad thoughts aside, I was super glad to call her in Colombia and speak with her for a few minutes. Aside from wishing her a very happy birthday I emphasized that she needed to be more cognizant of her limitations. (For instance, she fell down a staircase in April and ended up very badly hurt). I gave her my heartfelt thanks for caring so much for my mom, brothers, and myself and reminded her of how much we care about her. It was very moving and nearly lost it over the phone but I pulled through.

That conversation really put things in their proper perspective for me and prepared me for the week ahead.

Switching to Decaf

Image via this site

I'm about 48 hours away from being a nervous, twitchy wreck like Tweek.

On Wednesday I might have to give a speech during a charity luncheon. Usually when I have to prepare for speaking in public I think up of a small list of bullet points, memorize them and try to speak naturally with them in mind.

Right now, however, I got nothing. Not a single thing.

The last time I had to give a speech was during a December luncheon for the same charity sponsoring the event on Wednesday- the Physically Challenged Irish and American Youth Team. They are a little-known but fantastic organization that assists disabled youth in the U.S. and Ireland, and they were instrumental in helping pay my undergrad tuition as well as standing by me during my time off from grad school.

During the December luncheon at the apartment of the Irish Consulate General to New York I had memorized a humorous quote by James Joyce that I hoped would break the ice. Via a marvelous stroke of luck, he had another quote by Joyce hang in his living room and that was where I would speak. Hence, I had two great quotes by the same author to work with and it all worked out marvelously.

Unfortunately, at this time I'm not too sure what to speak about and I don't want to rely on luck to bail me out.

Also, I don't wish to repeat content from previous speeches. Hence, no more quotes or retelling of my travails with my physical disability. I won't repeat the discourse I made where I urged people not to see the disabled with pity but rather as individuals with the potential to improve society. No talk on how the song/Liverpool chant "You'll Never Walk Alone" applies to the charity.

Damn.

Actually, there are only two semi-ideas that are stirring around in my mind:

1. Linking my Latin American background to Ireland. With that option the only two things that I could link to could be the Battle of Boyaca where Irish troops fought alongside Simon Bolivar's independence forces or the music of Mexican brother-sister duo (by way of Dublin) Rodrigo y Gabriela.
   
2. Framing the speech around the recent completion of a U.N. treaty for people with disabilities. I believe during one of the working group sessions I attended the E.U. was represented by Ireland.

All I know is that I got to figure something out soon and commit it to memory. The last thing I can afford to do is pull the entire speech out of thin air or be too nervous and blank out.