An estimated 3 out of 4 people have a . Unfortunately, that means more than a few teachers carry that anxiety with them. I am one of them.
However, rather than holding me back, I have found that the sense of dread I get standing up in front of others has helped me improve as a teacher. I can both empathize with my students鈥� fears and challenge them to be brave.
At the beginning of every school year, a new crop of 15-year-olds pile into my virtual classroom. Some are open-minded and excited for the new year, while others are jaded and unmotivated before they even enter my space of learning. Regardless of their attitude, I鈥檓 always embarrassed to admit I am terrified.
You鈥檒l get used to it, professors told me during my studies. Just fake it until you make it, my peers advised.
But no matter how much I faked it, and how many years spent teaching the same curriculum, the fear has remained. Once the connections with my students deepen, I naturally grow more comfortable, but even then, my body succumbs to shaky hands and a cracking voice when something unexpected happens in any given lesson.
One might expect that this would cause me to be ashamed, to practice even harder, to study public speaking methods.
But I have learned another way.
This year, I realized that the fear of public speaking is not a hindrance but an asset when looked at through the right lens. I was given a group of 10th graders who are English learners, and on the first day of class, over half shared in their self-introduction paragraph that they were shy and afraid to speak up in class.
This is a fairly common phenomenon for any teacher, but my students鈥� awareness of it allowed me to step into the moment immediately to meet them where they were.
My replies on their papers were personal:
Did you notice how I held my hands to keep them from shaking today?
Did you hear how my voice trembled when I noticed everyone looking at me?
I have been there, too. I鈥檓 there on the first day of class every year, when strangers鈥� eyes stare right at me. I know your shyness because it matches mine.
And slowly but surely, my students began to open up about the root of their fears. When they saw me, their experienced teacher, trembling, they felt a little braver when their body trembled during a presentation. When they heard me stumble over my words, they accepted their own pauses trying to find the right ones.
Vulnerability is hard for anyone. For some, it feels wrong to acknowledge weaknesses when you hold the power in a classroom. While professional boundaries are important, sometimes sharing your own common fears is a way to embolden others, and that includes in your own classroom.
Maybe sharing with and encouraging students to be open about what hinders their learning is the way to move forward together, whether it鈥檚 the fear of being laughed at or the fear of being wrong. Maybe we as teachers have a chance to walk beside our learners and guide them in how to live with a phobia, even if it never fully leaves.
Fear rarely goes away completely, and that includes the fear of public speaking. So many students are held captive to it in the classroom, but we as teachers have the chance to embolden and encourage by leading with empathy instead of coercion or disappointment. That starts with finding the courage to look in the mirror and be honest about our own flaws. We must then teach ourselves鈥攁nd by extension our students鈥攖o reframe those flaws as strengths rather than weaknesses.
