When I turn my gaze back to the room of training participants after his last sentence, I see the same thing over and over again: dead silence, tears in the eyes. Exactly the reaction I had myself when I first saw Brandon Boulware's plea.
It is about a story of an American father exercising his right to participate in the Missouri state legislature. A bill was before them that would prohibit trans people from participating in women's sports competitions.
As the father of four children, one of whom is transgender, Brandon Boulware is calling for this law to be rejected.
Why does this speech manage to move people so much? As a presentation coach, I watch speeches daily, but this one I've been carrying around with me for months. Reason enough to dissect it and see what we can learn from Boulware.
"You need to settle your audience, you can't go straight to your message," Ed Milliband's former speechwriter Ayesha Hazarika tells us this week in the podcast How do you write a great political speech? And that's exactly what Boulware does. Skillfully, he sets himself up as an equal to his audience. By introducing himself as "a lifelong Missourian, a husband, a business lawyer, a Christian and the son of a Methodist minister." Good people, you can hear the conservative Missourian audience thinking.
But also by not condemning his audience's possible prejudices against trans people, but rather sharing his own struggles with them: "One thing I often hear when transgender issues are discussed is, 'I don't get it,' 'I don't understand.' And I would expect that some of you would have said that and I feel the same way. I didn't get it either. For years I didn't get it".
As an audience, we lower our shields with relief: we are allowed to find what we think. And with that, we meet his message with openness.
Father Boulware describes the day he returns from the office. He accurately sets the scene that takes place next. Through the details we see it before us; for a moment we are with him, there in his front yard. He cashes in on the sense of connection by sharing immediately afterwards what this scene has meant to him. "It was then that it hit me. My daughter was equating being good with being someone else. I was teaching her to deny who she is. As a parent, the one thing we cannot do, is silence our child's spirit. So, on that day, my wife and I stopped silencing our child's spirit."
We have mentioned it many times in this place: a memorable speaker takes his listeners in tow, shows something of himself and has an eye for his audience. Boulware scores high on all these facets. We already saw how he empathizes with the needs of his audience, evoking a sense of connection. But he also stays true to himself: he shares his struggles, sorrows, mistakes and insights without embellishment. He lets his audience get close and take a peek into his soul. These kinds of feelings are universal; we all know them at times. Speakers who dare to share them rise in our esteem because we appreciate vulnerability.
Then leadership. At first, his nerves are certainly visible. He shifts in his chair, fidgets with his fingers, talks quickly, his voice has a slight tremor. But the moment he shares his deep conviction, his attitude and tone change (from 2.07 min). At first he seems to speak by the grace of his audience, here the roles turn, and he passionately points out to his audience the importance of his experiences.
In this speech, he also explains his choice to finally go along with what "teachers, therapists and other experts" had been telling him for years. The fact that he had a daughter "who did not smile" was the deciding factor. The day his wife and he decided to let go of the rules for their daughter, they immediately saw a total transformation. Now he has "a confident, a smiling, a happy daughter." The hero's journey -as we often call these kinds of stories- comes to an end with this. The trials are over. Father and daughter have reached their destination.
And that law? It didn't come. The Governor of Missouri feted it.