Area 24 Evaluation and International Speech Competition

Toastmasters is an international organization dedicated to improving public speaking and leadership skills in chapters around the world. There are over 300,000 Toastmasters members worldwide! Local to Morgantown are two clubs, Country Roads and Laurel Highlands. Country Roads currently meets 100% online on the first and third Thursday of each month at 7:00pm Eastern and welcomes members from throughout West Virginia and the region to attend virtually. Laurel Highlands currently meets on the second and fourth Tuesday of each month at 6:00pm with a hybrid model: meetings are at the Carnegie Free Library in Connellsville, PA as well as simultaneously on Zoom.

Twice a year, speaking contests start at the club level and then move up to area, division, region, and all the way to the top of this enormous global organization. On February 19, the District 13, Division C, Area 24 contest was held at the Carnegie Free Library in Connellsville, PA. This cycle, participants aspired to win the Evaluation and International Speech Competition contests at this Area-level to move on to the Division C contest in Punxsutawney, PA on March 26, 2022. Though it takes a lot more than just contestants to make a contest a success. Today, I served as a judge for both of the speaking contests. In addition, several others served as judges, timers, and ballot counters under the leadership of the Contest Chair and Chief Judge.

The first contest was the Evaluation contest. In an Evaluation contest, contestants observe a five-to-seven-minute test speech and then present a two-to-three-minute evaluation of that test speech. At today’s contest, two competitors evaluated Joe Arnold’s (Division C Director) animated story about how his wife bit off his lip over some Dairy Queen. The talk had the room in stitches and the delivery was without flaw. I really wondered what the evaluation contestants could really even productively suggest! Either way, I sat ready to perform my own evaluation as judge.

The better the speaker, the more difficult the evaluation. Excellent speakers leave the audience spellbound and it is easy to complement performance. On the other hand, it is so difficult to figure out where there may be room for improvement. Only the best evaluators can effectively nitpick a seemingly flawless talk for one or two things to improve upon. The first contestant seemed to feel the pressure. She started strong but hesitated to make any clear critiques. She knew what we all know: this talk was good. The second contestant approached the podium on the stage with confidence. I felt like he must have noticed something the other contestant did not. Indeed, he delivered high praise for Arnold’s hilarious talk, but did manage to find two ways in which he could improve: checking in with his notes less often (or doing something to distract the audience while checking the notes) and using more varied hand-gestures. With these observations and suggestions, Evaluator #2, Jim Teague, won the Area 24 Evaluation Speech Contest.

Next, after a short intermission, the competition switched gears for International Speech Contest prepared speeches. For this part of the competition, three contestants spoke on the topic of their choice for five-to-seven minutes. The array of topics made comparison between the speakers difficult, but it was evident that each speaker was passionate about their topic. However, judges have ballots with a recommended scoring rubric that makes it a bit easier to ensure evaluations are holistic and comparable, even when it seems like there is no common ground between speeches. Topics of the talks were:

• A call to action for all Pennsylvanians to support and improve their local school districts. The speaker listed very tangible actions that people can take to show educators and school systems that they matter, such as running for school board, registering as a substitute teacher, and simply showing gratitude to educators when you meet them.

• The failure to connect the brain to the mouth at a prior speech contest left this contestant feeling defeated, but he did not realize how many people could relate to his moment of public embarrassment and, while it felt like a loss in the moment, he turned it into a winning speech that brought him to this contest.

• Overcoming a heartbreaking speech impediment as a child and developing self-confidence by reading the syllable-by-syllable in the Bible and dictionary.

To compete at the Area-level, all contestants already won speech contests at the club level, so everyone is already a winner. This means that, even at this relatively low level, the talks are very refined and practiced to the point of pure memorization. This presents a challenge for judges, but it is a challenge all judges love! Ultimately, once all of the ballots were in (there were five judges in total), Sharon Joseph, the President of Laurel Highlands Toastmasters, won the Area 24 International Speech Competition with her touching story of overcoming her childhood speech impediment.

On March 26, 2022, Jim Teague (Evaluation) and Sharon Joseph (International Speech) will be carrying the flag for Area 24 at the Division C competition in Punxsutawney, PA. In addition, they each get a little trophy so, no matter how things go in March, they have something they can look at that reminds them of their success here, in Connellsville.

Trophies for the winners of the Area 24 Evaluation and International speech competitions.

Point of No Return

Originally delivered as a speech on January 16, 2020 at a meeting of the Mountaineer Toastmasters.

Should I even bother to apply? The Christine Mirzayan Science and Technology Graduate Fellowship Program at the National Academies of Science, Engineering, and Medicine seemed like a reach. While they say they consider everyone in a graduate degree program or within five years of graduating with such a degree, after reading the bios of many of the alumni it felt like a long shot, only in the second semester of my master’s degree at an average school, sorry Marshall!

Turns out that they don’t get a lot of applicants passionate about transportation and that the Transportation Research Board within the National Academy of Sciences had demand for someone passionate about transportation safety. I was paired with a mentor, Dr. Rick Pain, who would guide me through the next four months of my life in Washington, DC.

Rick Pain was on his third career and had grandchildren older than I was. He seemed to know everyone and everything about transportation safety. I was in awe that this person would even make time for me. Initially it was all business. I caught up with him most mornings to find out what my schedule would look like that day, as I was generally to accompany him to all meetings. I could barely keep them all straight: it’d be the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration in the morning, AARP in the afternoon, after lunch with executives from the American Association of State Highway Transportation Officials. Lots of folks in very high places competed for his time.

About a month after starting, we traveled to a conference in Portland and had a chance to talk about more than just business. We discovered a mutual love of trains. He’d spent a lot of time in Chicago when he was younger and he could paint a picture with words. He’d traveled many of the same routes I had, but before Amtrak when everything was streamlined stainless steel. This mutual passion formed the foundation of our ongoing friendship and the point when his mentorship started carving my path forward. The point of no return.

I could talk for hours about my experience as a Mirzayan Fellow, but let me provide some examples of poignant moments of his mentorship.

Scene 1: The end of a workday, sitting in his office reviewing the work of the day he asked me what my plans were after I finished at Marshall. Specifically, he asked if I was interested in pursuing a Ph.D. We spent two hours talking through what I’d like to do if I pursued that path, talked about the opportunity cost, and he reached out to five faculty members he thought would make a good match. These folks were at some pretty impressive schools, including Penn State. Most wrote back enthusiastically. I had to do the work, but he helped me open doors that I didn’t even realize I had the keys to.

Scene 2: I was preparing the first ever summary of research in the area of distracted driving. I had three days to do the work and then deliver it to a high-profile summit on distracted driving on Capitol Hill. Recognizing that I’d been working almost non-stop for three days, when I was about ready to leave he recommended that I take the train to Philadelphia and treat myself to a nice dinner. He used our similarities, rather than our differences, to provide supportive and kind advice.

Scene 3: One of the last events I attended as a Fellow was at the Transportation Research Board. It was held at the original National Academy of Sciences building on Constitution Avenue, about a block from the Lincoln Monument. In fact, the Albert Einstein Memorial is in the Academies front yard. At one point he pulled me aside to show me something. There are chambers in this building reserved only for members of the National Academies. I couldn’t go in, but the door to the library was open. He explained the history and explained the exclusivity of the space. He said that one day I’d be able to go in. I was a 22-year-old who felt like she was in over her head alongside doctoral students from places like Harvard and Wake Forest, though there was one WVU graduate there, too! Hearing this experienced and well-seasoned gentleman tell me that one day I could go into the chambers even he couldn’t go into, talk about a point of no return.

It was a long shot to apply to this fellowship. I was an underdog. I can point to many projects and policies that I helped start, develop, or support, but the greatest and most enduring result of that fellowship is the mentorship experience that made the course I’m following even possible.

Go by Train

This was originally delivered as a speech at the January 7, 2016 meeting of the Mountaineer Toastmasters to satisfy Competant Communicator, Project #4: How to Say It.

Think about the phrase go by train. Does it elicit dusty images of the old west? Streamlined stainless-steel retro visions of the future? Cavernous marble and mahogany train stations? The construction of an industrial superpower? Or what about a peaceful trip with a glass of blackberry wine across the Midwest? The reality is, a trip on Amtrak’s Empire Builder is all of this and more.

Credit: Amtrak

The Empire Builder takes its name from a Great Northern Railroad route dating back to 1929. It travels from Chicago to Seattle and Portland, via the most northern states in the continental United States, providing essential transportation to areas sparsely populated.

Leaving Chicago, going west is a delicate choreography requiring perfect understanding of the behavior of other trains and each of the multitude of tracks. It is amazing to think that something so complex occurs daily on this train, and hundreds more times with other Amtrak, Metra, and freight trains.

Quickly, the steely density of Chicago and Milwaukee give way to a speckling of pristine lakes, where the hearty denizens of Wisconsin brave the icy winds for a late autumn catch. The gentle waves of the lakes delicately carry the final light of day on their backs.

Even though dusk is a distant memory, the Mississippi River is impossible to miss as it guides the train toward the Twin Cities. The broad river shimmers beneath the light of cars, trucks, trains, and towns. At points it seems as if the whole world beyond the train is the broad, commanding river.

Minnesota gives way to North Dakota and dawn breaks over Minot. Those who ate breakfast in the dark emerge to watch sunrise and smoke cigarettes from the icy platform as the train lets the schedule catch up. Some even hustle into the train station to stretch, warm up, or simply even to use a more spacious restroom.

Speeding west toward Montana, the train follows U.S. Route 2, where passengers wave at the hearty roughnecks driving to the oil rigs of the Bakken. The foothills of the Rocky Mountains emerge slowly, gently pulling away the light of day, casting lavender hues on the final glimpse of the plains. A smoke break shortly after dark in Whitefish reveals that you’ve arrived in the mountains. For the remainder of the evening it seems as if the train is never moving straight or level.

Through the night the Rockies give way to the less dramatic but snowier Cascades, half of the train split away to travel to Portland, and you failed to acknowledge the hour or so you spent in Idaho. Dawn is breaking as you descend toward the sea, have conquered the treacherous Stevens Pass.

Too suddenly you’re looking at salt water. The Everett Naval Yard. Two days of peace and tranquility feel insufficient for me, others were excited to go home, go shopping, or get going on the next adventure. If Pete, my car attendant, had not been sufficiently firm, I’d have tried to bargain with the conductor to head back to Chicago to replay the views in reverse.

It took three relaxing days to travel to Seattle from Connellsville, Pennsylvania, a pleasant contrast to the 14 hours of misery flying to Seattle often presents. Next time you go, I strongly urge you to go by train

Go by Train

Portland, Oregon’s Union Station says it best

Credit: Tony Webster

Three Lives of an Overachiever

This was originally delivered as a speech at the November 16, 2017 meeting of the Mountaineer Toastmasters as the Icebreaker for the Visionary Communication pathway.

How many lives do you live? Is your life at work or school the same as the life you take home to your spouse or parents? Do you have different lives for different social groups? Do you live some lives more than others? Madam Toastmaster, fellow Toastmasters, and welcome guests, I know I live many lives at the same time. To name three, I am a transportation engineer, a professor, and a patient.

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A woman and her cat, Marvin.

Most people think transportation engineer when they think of Janet Fraser. I earned this title after more than 10 years of university education. When introducing yourself as a transportation engineer, prepare for groans at best and gripes at worst. Everyone thinks the roads they drive are the worst. Usually, they’re wrong. Not everyone can drive the worst roads. Frankly, I have yet to find the very worst roads. It is always a matter of relativity. My mom would disagree. Despite having some of the best roads and public transit in North America, her experience in Vancouver, British Columbia is the worst ever. Attempting to explain decisions made by government agencies while fostering a budding friendship is a delicate conversation. I always try to emphasize the fact that I’m not just a transportation engineer!

When introducing yourself as a professor, come prepared for a story! Everyone has been a student and, unfortunately, not all teachers and professors are good and some even have bad days. In this situation, you are about to hear the worst story about the worst professor, who was probably having the worst day ever. Sometimes you will even know right away that you’re guilty of the critical failure making that person the worst professor ever. Yes, I have cruelly refused to accept a late assignment and even I occasionally have a day where I’m only going to read the notes right off of the PowerPoint. Teaching is a very unforgiving profession in that if you’re having a bad day, you’re sharing that experience with each and every one of your students. But I can’t tell you that right now, because you’re hoping I’m not that professor and you're saying really nice things about me! But I’m not just a professor!

Not every life is a bold occupational success. When dangling your feet off of the examination table, you don’t even have to introduce yourself as a patient. That’s just what you are when you’re here and you aren’t the doctor. You have to take the news: good, bad, or inconclusive and find the next words, the next questions to ask. When confronted with a diagnosis, and you can’t actually say the words, let alone ask—what does this mean for my life? A skilled doctor can predict the obvious, general questions and know that you need to know the prognosis, the treatment options, and when you need to come back for your next appointment. But more specific questions, like how will this impact my hobbies? Should I modify my working environment? At what point should I consider switching from one kind of medication to another? You have to find those words on your own, and you don’t have a lot of time.

I have many other lives: wife, daughter, Canadian, Toastmaster. And I will have many future lives, born out of things like promotions, friendships, and by association.

These lives all have one thing in common. Communication. Communication is critical to navigating each life and the thread connecting each life. Without the ability to explain a hazardous road condition, people could get hurt or worse. Without the ability to describe the complexities of multiple regression analysis, my students aren’t learning about one of the most elegant ways to analyze their data. Without the ability to listen carefully as the doctor speaks, I miss the opportunity to ask the questions that will help guide the choices impacting all of my lives until I see them again. Communication is so important. Mastering communication in each of my lives is why I am here.

But I have to ask, how many lives do you live?