Tossing my hat into the ring – Cirque style!
What happened when a clown came calling
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By John Spaith, ACG, ALB
I joined Toastmasters to master the art of giving slightly less boring speeches at work. Who knew those same skills would come in handy at Cirque du Soleil, the world-famous circus-arts production?
In addition to its high-wire acts and contortionists, the Cirque troupe gets unsuspecting audience members into the act. Like me. I was recently dragged up on stage by Christian, a French magician/ pickpocket. It was just the two of us, with me serving as his sole assistant. And by sole assistant, I mean sole victim.
My performance, were it not for Toastmasters, would have been a nightmare. Here are some things that helped.
Is This a Trap?
Once Christian had me on stage, he said in his thick French accent, “Please stand here on ze trapdoor.” Yes, there was a trapdoor. I dislike trapdoors – who doesn’t? Even worse is that I’m from Ohio. Ohio is flat and Ohioans tend to dislike hills, slopes and quick changes in altitude.
My head was spinning and I was close to panic. But I said firmly to myself, “Christian is a professional. He doesn’t want me to fail.” I realized (correctly) that Christian was not going to make the floor fall out from under me. Even though we had just met, I trusted that this odd French guy wanted me to be safe and have some fun, too.
I learned this ability to trust from my good-natured Toastmasters chums. We want to make each other look good and feel good. In our parlance, Christian was Toastmaster of the day and I was Speaker No. 1. I have yet to see the Toastmaster pull a trapdoor on Speaker No. 1.
Audiences Want You to Succeed
The lights were burning bright on the Cirque du Soleil stage, but the audience – 30 rows deep and surrounding the stage on three sides – was covered in darkness. I could just barely see the front row and after that it was black. It was surreal and a little disturbing.
Before I joined Toastmasters I worried incessantly about how I was received. My reactions to this kind of scenario would have been: “Is my tie on straight? Are people laughing with Christian as he makes the yellow ball come from my ears – or at me?” Not being able to see faces would have put me into hysterics.
I’ve learned that audiences – both inside and outside Toastmasters – want you to succeed. Ironically, messing up in Toastmasters (I’m good at that) and seeing audiences be supportive or, at worst, apathetic, was a huge confidence builder for me.
Hey, I’m only Human
Christian finally led me offstage, to steep steps leading back out to the audience. Since it was pitch black, it felt as if I were stepping off a cliff.
One of the ushers grabbed me and tried to lead me to my seat. I refused to budge, whispering that I was in the wrong section. She insisted my seat was just up the aisle. A wave of dizziness hit. I worried that the audience was about to start laughing at me. The usher yanked on me and I yanked back.
To summarize my performance: I didn’t trust the pro, I didn’t trust the audience and I didn’t go with the flow. So much for following my own advice!
Fortunately, I got back to my seat safely and started breathing again.
John Spaith, ACG, ALB, is a member of the Redmond 2828 club in Redmond, Washington.
Condensed from “Tossing my hat into the ring – Cirque style!” in the October issue of the Toastmaster magazine.