Dear cherished readers,
As we step into 2024, I have some exciting plans that will unfold gradually. My commitment to you for the coming year is to continue to inform and inspire you.
But for now, I invite you on a different journey through this post. My dear friend Andrew and I have penned our very first collaborative piece. We share these stories not just as a chronicle of our experiences, but as a beacon to inspire others to embrace their own paths of growth. We hope that you’ll not only enjoy this piece, but also glean some valuable life lessons along the way.
Thank you for being a part of this journey. Your readership means the world to us.
Warmly,
Nat
🎤 Hey AI Observers! Andrew Smith here. Nat and I are working together to give you something a little more personal today.
This image Nat created represents Nat and I as children, heading out there into a scary, daunting forest. Although we grew up an ocean apart, we both have a lot in common with regard to speaking in front of people.
As you read through our stories, I hope you’ll keep these two kids in mind!
As I stood up to begin speaking to the crowd, I was relaxed and prepared. This wasn’t the sort of thing that happened overnight—being in front of a crowd of several hundred jiu jitsu practitioners, coaches, and spectators wasn’t my first choice for a Saturday afternoon activity, but here I was.
An unruly crowd of martial arts practitioners might have intimidated another speaker, but not today, and not me. These were my people, and I knew how to talk with them.
I also knew what I was talking about: the rules for the US Grappling tournament about to take place. This tournament was the reason these folks were gathered here today, and I felt good about this because I had written the rules myself.
I turned the microphone on and began speaking with a steady, measured voice.
It wasn’t always this easy, though.
Back in 9th grade, I remember giving a presentation in my French class with Mr. Fox. The idea was to play out a little scene with another student, in front of the entire class. No pressure!
Saying “no pressure” here requires a little explanation at my end. I was about to “perform” a little play we had written in front of the class. Kali, my partner, was diligent and probably a whole lot better at French than I was, but even if I had been any good at French, I doubt I would have had much interest in being in front of the entire classroom.
That meant everyone was going to look at you, scrutinize you—judge you. I was particularly sensitive to the judgment of my peers, being a high school freshman and an only child who had increasingly begun to exhibit more introverted behavior.
Our play started out well enough, but when we got to the part about Michael Jordan visiting, I completely forgot the punch line: the French word perruque, or wig. My stomach felt new chemicals swimming around in there, a mixture of shame and anxiety. My hands were even sweatier than usual, which is an awful lot for a 13 year old boy.
Kali never lost a beat, suggesting, “…perruque?” to me with a grace I completely lacked. She had somehow kept her cool throughout my screwup, and seemed completely unfazed herself out there. It turned out that Kali would become class president one day—no small feat at a high school with more than 2500 students.
The contrast in between us that day could not have been more stark. I was a fish out of water, but Kali was in her element. What was the difference?
Nat is the perfect person to pick the thread up from here. Her journey mirrors my own, but with an actual mentor, the story is much more effective. I’ll pass the keyboard over to her now!
🎤 Nat here. Picking up where Andrew left off, I have my own story to tell about facing fears and emerging stronger. As Andrew stood confidently before the crowd of jiu-jitsu practitioners, his journey from a nervous ninth-grader to a composed and assured speaker was evident. His story, a testament to personal growth and overcoming fears echoed a similar path of development in my own life. While our arenas were different, the lessons we learned and the hurdles we overcame were strikingly similar.
While I don’t claim mastery like the famed orator Demosthenes, who famously corrected his speech by speaking with pebbles in his mouth, I do have a story that shaped who I am today.
My initial encounter with a large audience happened when I was seven years old, as part of a choir performance at the Tbilisi State Conservatoire Recital Hall. Initially, all seemed well, but as we sang, I became acutely aware of the many eyes fixed upon us, and a creeping fear began to stir within me. In an instant, it seized me, and I momentarily lost the lyrics. Yet, I managed to mime the words until I could rejoin properly. Despite my strong voice, I declined all offers for solo performances, haunted by that initial fear.
It was my teacher who first imparted life lessons that would stay with me forever. She tailored her guidance to my young age, teaching me that " Fear is normal when faced with many eyes. Imagine the audience as a forest of friendly trees, each there to support and listen to you. " This analogy helped me envision the audience as a comforting forest of allies. It wasn’t until later that I fully grasped her first lesson: “Fear is a part of growth.” Confronting it is the initial step toward mastery.
Another lasting memory from Svetlana’s teachings—which I absorbed with the intensity of a raptor eyeing its prey—was, “Let's start by speaking in front of a small group of friends. Think of them as the first few trees in your forest. Share a story you love. This is like planting your first seed of confidence.” She would invite me to class, not for singing, but to recount my cherished tales, nurturing an unknown quality within me that I would come to recognize and value in later years.
It took me a few years to grasp that confidence grows incrementally. Start within your comfort zone and gradually push your limits.
Each lesson left me exhilarated, transforming Svetlana from a mere instructor into Athena, the heroine of Greek mythology. Progress wasn't immediate; she patiently coached me for months in front of the class, and my parents arranged private lessons for me until I was twelve. I’ve carried another piece of her advice with me: 'Before speaking in front of people, prepare what you want to say. Practice it like a favorite song. Knowing your words well will make you feel stronger and more confident.' I remember standing in front of the mirror, practicing and following her advice. It doesn’t really matter whether you're speaking publicly or performing a solo; preparation is key. Knowing your material well lays the foundation for confidence.
She helped me understand there's nothing wrong in telling your audience you're a bit nervous. Opening up about your emotions can lift your spirits, and you may discover that it endears you even further to your audience. Strange as it may sound, vulnerability is a strength. It connects you with others and can turn challenges into shared experiences.
She taught me the virtue of feedback. Ask for feedback. Not all of it will be easy to hear, but like a plant needs both sun and rain to grow, you need both praise and constructive criticism to improve. Feedback is a gift. It helps you understand how others perceive you and shows areas for improvement.
At twelve, I mustered the courage to perform a solo. That experience was just the beginning; Svetlana’s wisdom proved invaluable throughout my life. In the late '90s, as Georgia was swept by massive anti-government demonstrations, students became the movement’s backbone. My cousin and I were deeply involved. Delivering speeches to my peers, I felt the deep-seated confidence Svetlana had nurtured within me. Her teachings resonated as I penned my first Spanish-language article on press freedom—a vital democratic principle under threat in Georgia at the time.
Even after 30 years, I cherish my childhood mentor, Sveta, with deep warmth and thanks. She nurtured traits in me that have shaped who I am. During the Rose Revolution, Svetlana saw me on a TV broadcast among other students. She called me the following evening, her voice filled with pride: “Look how far you’ve come! Remember when the audience was a daunting forest? Now, it’s your stage, your spotlight. What’s your next challenge? Perhaps speak in a grander hall, or look into uncharted topics.”
Indeed, growth is a perpetual journey. We should celebrate our milestones and then aim higher. I urge everyone—children, friends, loved ones, or anyone in need—to embrace this continuous path of self-improvement. Cherish your triumphs, then set loftier aspirations. Never shy away from challenges, whether they loom large or small, for we truly grow in facing them.
🎤 Andrew here! I love Nat’s story of Sveta. While I didn’t have a specific mentor, I did so many of the same things, beginning with very slowly widening my circle of competence. I began by tutoring one individual at a time, which felt safe and comfortable. Then, I used the “fake it ‘til you make it” strategy, acting relatively cool and confident even when I wasn’t.
Gradually, the false bravado became real confidence. I began assisting in judo and jiu-jitsu classes, which felt like a natural fit. One day, I was asked to lead an entire class. After a decade, I was traveling and teaching seminars, and this is right when US Grappling offered me the opportunity to stand in front of hundreds of people at a time.
Remember those two kids? They made it through to the other side of that forest, didn’t they?
🎤 Back over to Nat to take us home.
The essence of our stories lies in the realization that the journey towards confidence and mastery is incremental and deeply personal. It involves embracing our vulnerabilities, as I learned from my mentor Svetlana, and turning them into strengths. Just as Andrew found his footing among his peers in martial arts, I found my voice amidst the harmonies of a choir and later, the fervor of political activism.
We share these stories to inspire others to embrace their own paths of growth. Whether it's standing in front of a class, a crowd, or even a forest of friendly trees, the journey towards overcoming fear and building confidence is universal. It's about planting seeds of courage, nurturing them with practice and feedback, and watching them blossom into the strength that guides us through life's various stages and challenges.
So, to anyone standing at the edge of their own forest, hesitant to step into the unknown: remember that each step, each word, and each note sung or spoken, is a part of your growth. Embrace the journey with patience and perseverance, and like Andrew and me, you'll find that what once seemed daunting will become a stage for your greatest triumphs.
Yay! Nat, I love the addition of the little mic icon. That was a last minute pleasant surprise today!
I think this is a must-read story! congratulations to both of you and thanks for sharing this extraordinary journey with us!