From Church Speaking to Motivational Speaking Jobs

Of all the flammable fuels you must study for your motivational speaking job, enunciation has been my number one nemesis — my biggest challenge. I’ve never fully understood some of the difficulties others experience with such things as volume or pauses, but I think I can empathize when it comes to this one. I’ve had the hardest time with enunciation. I was born and raised in North Carolina, and have a distinct Southern accent. Shortly after college, I moved from North Carolina to Boston where I got my first speaking job. Boy, did I “catch it” there! It must have been during Jimmy Carter’s administration because I kept hearing things about being a “peanut farmer.” However, it wasn’t just my accent. It was also my enunciation of words. From Boston, I moved to London. A Southern Yank! Caught me a lot more flak in my motivational speaking! From London to Sydney. Same thing. And I’ve always found it interesting that people across the world could pick up that I had not only an American accent, but a Southern one as well. I finally learned that my accent is something I could never change. But I could learn to better enunciate my words. This would lessen the distraction that my accent might create for others. There was a time, however, when I went to considerable lengths to rid myself of my, shall I say, “oratory Southerninity.” When I was a minister in England, I spoke regularly to a large, British congregation. They never complained to me, but it was suggested by other leaders of the church that if I were to drop my Southern accent and acquire a more English elocution, it would give the entire church a boost. The intention was to minimize any existing anti-American sentiment the congregation or visitors might have had. Heeding this advice, I tried to overcome my provenance. I really tried hard! I took lessons from RADA, the world-renowned Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. A stately
woman who was convinced that she would have me speaking the Queen’s English “in
no time at t’all” personally tutored me. (She’d successfully tutored Dick van Dyke for the
movie Mary Poppins.) And so it began… I’d meet with her two nights a week, each time for an hour.
Very expensive — but I figured it was well worth it. Week after week of lessons soon became month after month. Nothing changed. And, believe me, I practiced. I did the homework. I progressed to the point where I could read the Queen’s English pretty well. I couldn’t speak it, though, particularly when
I got excited in my public speaking jobs. Every time I was in front of the congregation and “caught fire,” I’d revert
back to the “Land of Cotton” — a source of considerable amusement to the brethren. I continued to press. Stiff upper lip and all that. It was “tally ho” until the night I came to tutoring and my teacher told me, “This evening’s lesson will be our last.” “No, no, no! We’re just getting it going here. I’ve got the money. I’m paying you on time!” “No, that’s not the point. James, I’m afraid it’s a waste of your money and a waste of my time.“ Ooooh… I was so humbled! She was getting paid a lot of money to do this with me, and she could no longer continue with a clear conscience — it just wasn’t working. I,
thus, sadly, (really – gladly!) took my leave of the Queen’s English. That was the last
time I tried to change my accent. Years later, in a three-day workshop in San Diego, I met an extraordinary man named Larry. His passion was accents. When I related this story to him, he told me that deep down, I didn’t really want to lose my accent — my regional dialect — nor should I.
He called it my “voice fingerprint.” I liked that. And he was right. I probably never should have tried to lose my accent because it’s really an essential part of who I am. I used to get offended when people would make fun and try to imitate it. My friend Daniel once told me that it was funny how sensitive I was about my accent, while Jeff Foxworthy has made millions of dollars exploiting his.
I started thinking about that comment, did a little research, and discovered something interesting. When Foxworthy first started performing in New York, the advice he got, coincidentally, was to take lessons to get rid of his Southern accent as well. New Yorkers were always kidding him about being nothing but an “ol’ redneck from Georgia.” Well, that “ol’ redneck” is the top-selling comedy artist in recording history. His first CD sold more than three million copies! He’s published ten best-selling books, and has starred in numerous television specials. Jeff Foxworthy remained who he was. He kept his accent as part of his uniqueness, and it paid off. If he’d lost it, what else might he have lost? It’s also worth noting that his style is not one of boasting and bragging. He is poking fun at his culture, his habits, his family, and his accent. That kind of fire burns brightly! Some people’s prejudices will make them disconnect when they hear an accent. If you can find ways to circumvent this, it will contribute greatly to your success. In Smart Speaking, by Laurie Cliff and Marcia Yudkin, the practice of “plosives” is introduced. I won’t go into detail, but it’s the practice of pronouncing two conjoined consonants as a method of speaking more clearly. The best and most complete audio workshop that I’ve encountered on diction, elocution, correction of foreign accents, and local dialects is Zoller’s Speaking Effective English. This two-tape audio delves deeply into the science of speech. It includes numerous exercises to alleviate problems with vowel sounds, diphthongs, consonants,
etc. It even has pauses that allow time for the listener to practice aloud with the tape.
If you want to speak more clearly in your Motivational speaker jobs, you may also wish to consider emulating Demosthenes. In ancient Greece, Demosthenes was the greatest orator in an era of
exceptional oratory. As a child, he heard the magic of the spoken word and decided that
speaking was his destiny. But he had one big problem. Demosthenes was born with a
speech impediment that greatly affected both his volume and enunciation. As I’ve
mentioned earlier, we are not born with talent; talent is developed through the hard work
of practice. And work hard he did. Demosthenes would go to the beach. To work on his volume, he would stand on the rocks and practice speaking, shouting against the sound of crashing surf. He’d also pick up small pebbles and put them in his mouth to practice enunciating his words. By intentionally adding further impediments to his inherent one, with passionate practice, he was victorious. I often imagine what he looked like, standing proudly, shouting at the waves.
And sometimes, when I am alone at a beach where waves are crashing, I hear the ghost of Demosthenes…and I’m motivated.