So yeah. Last Thursday, I went to the Golden K Kiwanis meeting. Now, the thing about this is... I went last year, and took Anita with me. It was in a totally different location, and I had an interpreter, Tara.
This year, the organizer contacted ACCESS a full THREE MONTHS in advance, asking for me by name. I guess I have an excellent background *cue rimshot*.
Well. He called, and called, and called to make sure that I'd be there. He called last Monday with detailed instructions for me as to where to be, what time, how long to talk (15 minutes - remember this, it will be important), what to talk about, and requested a line or two of biographical information. This, I gave him in the form of the following:
First things first: My last name is pronounced like "wreck" without the "R"!
In 1999, I became a founding member of an organization called Deaf Women of Iowa Against Abuse. After fiddling about for a couple years, the board of directors voted to hire me as the first, brand spanking new executive director. Due to state and federal budget cuts, in 2005 we lost a significant portion of our funding. During this process, we were invited to merge with ACCESS. We changed the program name to Deaf Iowans Against Abuse, and I became part of the ACCESS staff.
Currently, I am the Deaf Iowans Against Abuse (DIAA) Coordinator. I serve Deaf victims all over the state of Iowa (the entire 99 counties), and also work with the other staff members in the shelter to assist local clients.
I am a proud Deaf woman, mother to three teenage boys, wife to a music teacher, and leader of a pack of three dogs, a lizard, and a chinchilla.
If you'd like any other information, let me know!
Thanks, and see you Thursday!
Gretchen
So. He implied to Shelly that I would be speaking at 9:15, so I planned to be there at 9. I took Kendra (one of our interns, probably my favorite intern ever) with me to relay, as Old Men are hard to lipread under the best of circumstances. We got to the church and parked in the proper lot by following his detailed directions (I kid you not... "the church is east of the post office, across the street. turn into the public lot which is to the north of the church. go in the northernmost door and down the stairs" etc). We found out, quickly, that the meeting didn't even START until 9:30... and I wouldn't be speaking until something like 9:50.
John, the program director (the one who had called) came and talked to me... he said, "You'll be speaking for about 12 minutes... I'll signal you like so *gestures* when you have one minute left. You'll have a total of ten minutes, tops... we're pretty strict about finishing on time at 10:30, and Vic Moss will be talking after you. Your ten minutes won't include time for questions and answers; that will come after. I'll signal you when it's time to wrap up *gestures*."
Ye gods. You see the progression from "15 minutes" to "about 12 minutes" to "ten minutes" here?
Well. I sat my ass down with Kendra, had a couple cups of coffee, attempted to chat with a man in a khaki shirt, khaki shorts, khaki shoes... and black knee socks. We sang the national anthem, said the Pledge, sat through renditions of Home on the Range and You're a Grand Old Flag, and then heard about all the members who were in the hospital or had died. I thought, "this has to be SO depressing for them."
So once John introduced me, I got up and made an impassioned, funny speech about ACCESS, what we do, who we serve, and how their $500 gift would impact our programs. I got laughs, which is what I was aiming for; I even got laughs when I made a comment about getting a ticket for driving under the speed limit. I got a lot of questions, which is a good thing. I sat down after John told the crowd that I was married to a schoolteacher, had three boys, three dogs, and a crocodile. Dude. A crocodile?! I laughed and corrected him, to thunderous laughter.
And then Vic got up to speak.
Jesus. Jumped-up. Johnnycake. Christ. Vic has been working for the homeless shelter in Ames for nigh on 35 years. He's a very nice man, and kind of cute... he really looks like Frankie Munez, but old.
However, Vic obviously flunked Public Speaking 101. Rambles, no eye contact, monotone, no movement... and he held the mic up to his mouth, literally blocking his lips. Plus, I'm reasonably sure John didn't give him the "fifteen, twelve, ten" talk, because he talked for 25 minutes. And went over the 10:30 deadline. John quite literally had to take the microphone away from him. I said to Kendra, once we were in the car, "If that's the kind of speaker they have to look forward to every week, it's a wonder more of them don't die to get out of the obligation!" What can I say? I'm a heartless bitch.
We headed back to the office, where I regaled Shelly with tales of my conquests and Vic's lack of public speaking skills, and went off to work for a bit before leaving for Ottumwa.
(as an aside: I really need to get some freaking userpics uploaded on this account...)
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