The question that Coach Elizabeth Hoban asked me a few months ago, “Raju, looking back at the last 2-3 years of your professional life, what are you most proud of?” still rings in my ear. Though I briefly responded to that question I still feel, given the fact that it was asked on TV and I had to be brief, that I still want to share the details and the depths of that story.
There was a time, a day in the year 2005, when I was invited by, a friend and a missionary, Jay Tabana, to speak at a large socio-civic get together in Naga City, Philippines. The impression I got from Jay’s invitation was that I was to speak about business leadership to a large audience of 300 to 400 people. This was one of those gigs which we speakers regard more as a marketing mileage rather than an effort at putting food on the table. I took on the assignment and carried a bagful of books to sell to cover travel and lodging expenses.
After a long and a bumpy overnight journey by bus from Manila to Naga, I was put up in a little hotel, upon arrival, at dawn. By noon I was picked up by Jay and chaperoned from the hotel to the venue in a little, metal-upholstered ride on a tricycle to the venue.
Upon getting down I was looking for signs of a large crowd or even a large hall but Jay and his companion led me into the living room of a high-ceilinged, old wooden house. In the living room I leaned against an old-fashioned bar thinking this was just a stop and I’ll soon be led into a hall. When my eyes connected with those of Jay’s he seemed as much surprised and worried as I might have looked at that time. He slowly walked up to me and he said, “This is it. This is where you speak.” “Oh, okay” I said, “you think this room can squeeze in 30 or 40 people?” “I think it might,” he said and then left me hanging with a youngish looking boy who seemed to be the caretaker of the place and who seemed to be all starry-eyed about having to look after me, an expat, and a speaker from the big city. In my shaky and broken tagalong, I asked him if the audience will be coming in soon. “Opo!” he replied excitedly but politely.
At the end of thirty minutes of waiting, six young ladies and a handsome gentlemen, all in their early seventies walked in and, after wishing me a, “Magandang Hapon po!” settled down randomly about the room. I glanced at the housekeeper and he beamed me a large toothy smile and gave me a "thumbs up" sign. It was my time to wire up the mike and get up on the stage.
Now what I haven’t told you is that when I went into this speaking, training and changing other people’s lives’ business, I’d made up my own version of a Professional Speaker’s Athenic Oath.
I swear by Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom and Arts, to keep according to my ability and my judgment, the following Oath and agreement:
To consider dear to me, as my mentor, she who taught me this Heart of Public Speaking; to live in common with her and, if necessary, to share my goods with her; To look upon her children as my own brothers, to share them wisdom and hope.
I will serve one or a thousand at a time and never shy away from sharing. I will speak regardless of speaking tools and comforts like a mike, a lectern, a podium or planned notes. I will speak in the sun, the shade or pouring rain and I will always deliver on my promises.
I will sweat, bleed and labor to preserve the purity of my profession and my arts. In every hall I speak, I will speak only for the good of my listeners, keeping myself far from all intentions of ill-doing and personal gain.
If I keep this oath faithfully, may I enjoy my life and practice my art, respected by all men and in all times; but if I swerve from it or violate it, may the reverse be my lot. This I swear!”
So, I began to speak. The crowd of seven in my halls were all small business owners who, for decades, had been making and selling Filipino sweets like Polvoron, Peanut Brittle and other Native Candies. I spoke about persistence, patience, systems, structures, branding, succession planning, packaging and distribution, building teams, hiring and training right and building business that would last not just their lifetimes but become a legacy and a bequest to their families and to the nation. They were happy and thrilled. They asked a lot of questions, shared their fears and their hopes and at the end of three quick hours, they shook my hand, gave me a few toothless smiles and walked out of the halls.
The thing that I am most proud of today but was surprised about it then was that throughout those three hours I’d forgotten that I was there to give a speech in English! Another person, another being from inside of me had reached out and connected with my customers in a language of their mothers--Tagalog with a smattering of English. Yeah! This is true. I know it because I still have to collect from those customers whom I sold my books on credit as they walked out of the halls. Unless, of course, I have already collected in kind and spirit from them in another place and another time. In all cases, i am sure, someone up there is maintaining a good book of accounts.
The lesson I recalled during this experience and which still resonates in my heart bring forth the words of my dear, departed mother who used to always say to me, “Son, those who don’t know how to dance generally blame the floor.” If you really and truly and wholeheartedly want to accomplish something then come rain or shine you will accomplish it and the whole material, emotional and spiritual world will conspire to help you accomplish it too.
Here is the clip of Coach Elizabeth Hoban asking me that question, “What am I most proud
of/” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0Zl8v6oe1k
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