The outdoor terrace of Zekaf Café in the University Dorm was cozy enough, with a slight chill from the January air. However, a gavel banging against a table made me jump just a little in my place. The Toastmasters meeting was starting.

It’s a quarter till seven, and I wonder at which part of this perfectly calculated program I would have to speak. In any case, I’m not looking forward to it. Going up the makeshift stage and having several pairs of eyes on me – someone who evades unwarranted attention at all costs – makes me feel nervous, disoriented, and scared witless.

But, as I look around, I doubt this is what the master Toastmasters must be feeling, because I’m sure they knew a thing or two about sounding off and causing a stir.

No, they don’t make toasters

Public speaking may make any introvert’s – or even a relatively shy extrovert’s – knees weak with just those four syllables. But a new breed of public speakers are ushering their way into the Ateneo, and bringing a new club where the only requirements are age legality and a penchant for sharing your thoughts in order to survive.

“You’d be surprised with the variety of people in Toastmasters meetings,” says President Mej del Rosario.

Businessmen, college professors, professionals, homemakers, and students alike make their way into Zekaf Café in the University dorm every second and fourth week of the month, to improve their public speaking skills through an hour and a half of impromptu or prepared speeches.

Mej starts to assign roles to everyone present—grammarian, “Ah” counter, speech evaluator, timer, and general evaluator. The degree of my anxiety just exponentially shot up. What are all these roles for? Five people scrutinizing my every word and move? I have never felt more exposed.

“Joining alone doesn’t help you, but engaging and participating,” says Mej. “Everyone must be eager to take on roles.”

To err is human

A round of applause and a firm handshake from the Table Topics Master initiated my turn to speak. I make my way to the front, taking miniscule steps to delay the inevitable—unfortunately for me, all I had to take were three and I was instantly the center of attention.

The Table Topics portion, a crowd favorite, gives everyone a chance to give their two cents about a certain quote for two minutes.

As the internal chaos that is my mind chase time, the rest of me remain frozen – literally. ‘Perfect 10’ is the umbrella theme for the meeting’s set of quotes. And as if to mock me, my quote is about making mistakes and learning about them. There is no time to prepare.

In my panicked state, all I can muster is an incoherent stream of “uhm’s” and “like’s.” I can only find consolation in the few who nod in agreement when incidentally my statements actually make sense. Then a series of clichés started to pour out of my mouth, and though I was disappointed with myself, I’m just glad I can muster something more than monosyllabic expressions.

“Here at Toastmasters, you can make all the mistakes that you want,” says Rica Facundo, a regular Toastmaster.“Better to make them here than outside.”

“You are not condemned for making mistakes,” adds Mej. “In fact it is encouraged as long as you learn from it.”

Someone holds up a green paper, signaling that my first minute is over. A few seconds more, and the prospect of getting it over with compels me to wrap everything up in haste.

The moment my feet starts to walk away from the spotlight, I feel myself starting to breathe normally again.

A well-oiled machine

Right after I take my seat, I shift my focus to the next speaker, Mej, who from the moment that she stands up is a picture of composure. Comfortable and collected, she exudes confidence as she articulated what the chosen quote means to her.

Juxtaposing my performance to hers, I can only imagine how much of an amateur I must have looked. “It’s all about practice, and [Toastmasters] is the best place to do it,” says Mej.

The next set of speakers is a spectacle of how at home they are with the fictitious stage. They walk forward and back, making eye contact with everyone else. It’s a fas­cinating sight. The way they command attention—it’s as if they purposely turn on an invisible switch to tranquilize my distressed thoughts.

The atmosphere is all kinds of charming, and watching people talk and poke fun at themselves makes me warm up more to the idea of participating in something like this again.

Moment of truth

As the winds pick up and make me shiver, we advance to the most important part of the meeting—the evaluation portion. One by one, assigned evaluators start to go in front to relay how each one did. Though I make sure to listen to all of the comments, I impatiently look forward to mine.

“We all learn from each other,” Mej says. “But aside from the speech part, there’s also the leadership part. It’s all about taking the initia­tive.”

Wilson Lee, Distin­guished Toastmaster and the governor for Toastmas­ters here in the Philippines, makes it clear that evalua­tions should be void of nega­tions. “There should not be ‘buts’ or ‘howevers,’ only ‘How may I help you?” he says.

It can very well be the longest two minutes of my life—every second magnified into what seemed like an eternity, and I seem to die a little at each one.

As expected, my “Ah” count is off the scales as I had uttered too much unnec­essary words in my attempt to stall. My performance was less than stellar, and it was nothing of memorable proportions.

I had trudged along un­chartered territory, and in the end I’m certain that this field is something I should no longer explore as an alterna­tive calling. But then, being a spectator on the sidelines is not of the question either.

If I can just get myself to calm down and move past the stuttering and shaking, there might just be hope for a next visit for another round of toastin’ good time.