I’ve worn glasses for more than 40 years. I am visually impaired to the point that without my glasses, I could not legally drive a vehicle. The first thing I do on waking is put on my glasses. I consider myself to be healthy, and am grateful that my body is fit enough to allow me to do pretty much anything I want to. Many of the people I know wear glasses, they’ve become so normalized that most of us don’t think of people wearing glasses as disabled.

This week I underwent dental surgery. The recovery has given me first hand experience about living life without being able to clearly articulate my thoughts using my voice. For the first 14 hours after the surgery I alternately slept and woke long enough to drink water to stay hydrated and take over the counter medicine to deal with swelling and pain.

When I eventually got up, with enough energy to move around and login to my laptop, I had no desire to eat or drink. Eventually I was hungry enough that I tried some yogurt and other soft foods. I quickly realized that the dentist’s advice to limit speaking was important for several reasons, beyond helping my mouth heal.

It literally hurt to talk; my jaw and tongue ached. I had arrogantly booked meetings for the afternoon after my surgery, confident that I would bounce back quickly and be ready to resume my regular activities within 24 hours. I was wrong!

Luckily, my colleagues are incredibly patient, and I was able to rebook all but one meeting to next week. The one meeting I attended, involved a lot of written prep work, and a colleague took over the main speaking role. She did a fabulous job. By the time that meeting came to be, I was able to speak clearly enough to interject a few slurred and mumbled thoughts of my own. The others at the meeting knew that this was temporary and knew me well enough to make allowances.

I continue to heal and feel better as every hour passes. As I get set to publish this blog, 3 days after the surgery, I can now hold short conversations and I’m close to sounding how I normally do. I am confident that I’ll have a full recovery. That being said, I make my living by sharing words, quite often through speaking engagements and live coaching sessions. So I hope I'm right.

A colleague shared a thought with me earlier this week, “You can’t truly understand equity, diversity and inclusion, unless you’ve been part of an excluded group.” I think this is particularly true for understanding the lives of disabled people. You can’t truly understand what it is like to be disabled, unless you’ve experienced living with a disability, even if only temporarily.

I can illustrate this for you with a story. The morning after my surgery, while I was feeling alert, yet still unable to talk, I saw a notice from a woman I admire, saying that she was holding a virtual tea to share a lesson on her area of expertise. I’ve long enjoyed her posts, so I signed up, figuring I’d be one of dozens of people attending, and wouldn’t need to speak. When I arrived, there were only 9 people in the session. I was familiar with the tech used, and noted in the chat that I couldn’t speak and why.  After the training was over, she did what good facilitators do and made sure to engage everyone in the discussion. My note about not speaking had slipped off the screen. She tried to get me to speak. I typed another comment, which she must have missed because she kept urging me to speak. Finally, I unmuted long enough to mumble “can’t talk, hurts” and went back to typing my responses. The woman holding the virtual tea was trying to be inclusive. She meant well, it simply never occurred to her that I might not be able to talk.

The last few days have given me a glimpse into living with an invisible disability. If you “look” able bodied, it’s difficult for others to believe that you’re disabled.

All this has led me to more deeply understand how important it is to make all workplaces, products and services accessible to everyone. It’s added to the lessons my disabled colleagues share on social media about how being able to work/learn remotely makes their lives easier, and how they hope that these options continue to exist after the pandemic. In addition, it's helped me understand that online resources should be as accessible as possible, which includes providing content that is accessible for people with invisible disabilities, such as the blind/visually impaired, deaf/hard of hearing, and those with different ways of processing information such as autistic people and people with ADHD.
 
We have the technology, let's invest in making content accessible so that everyone has the opportunity to thrive. In Canada, this also means ensuring that everyone has access to affordable broadband internet services. This is especially important to those in rural and remote communities.

I hope that this post has helped you understand the importance of creating accessible content. I’ve started to explore ways to make this website and my other online content more accessible. Won’t you join me?

This week’s blog was inspired by threads and posts I’ve read on social media about what returning to school will look like this Fall.

Our family has two teens at home who plan on being in High School this Fall. They plan on attending different High Schools, and we support their choices. Encouraging your teens to make decisions about their futures while young, helps prepare them for making more complicated life choices later on.

When the eldest of the two still in High School first told us they wanted to attend a High School that we hadn’t even considered as an option, they shared the pros and cons of attending that school, and changing school boards. We listened, and then learned as much about that school as possible before agreeing to that course of action.

Everything I read, from the school website to the transfer paperwork available online, told the story of an inclusive, open minded organization, where all students, from all ethnicities, backgrounds, genders and abilities were welcome. We set up a tour for a day when classes were in session. The principal took a few minutes out of her busy day to show us around the school, and then turned us over to another staff member to complete the rest of the registration process, including course selection.

Our child is thriving in that school. They have found their people, people who like them for who they are, who appreciate them for their strengths and enjoy their quirks. When the pandemic shut down high schools, that school and the board it belonged to were extremely proactive. They messaged families to explain how those without technology and internet access would be provided with both.  They regularly messaged families, through email, and the online platform they already used to communicate with families and students.

When the Minister of Education for the province of Ontario announced that schools would open this Fall, under an as yet to be determined model, with a maximum class size of 15 students, the school board emailed all families, and asked for our feedback. They outlined the known conditions about returning to school, and assured us that they would do everything they could to help keep our families safe. They assured us that online learning would be available for the days when the students were at home. They also outlined three potential courses of action. Student cohorts could be taught in an ABAB, AABB, or AAAA/BBBB format. They asked us which schedule we preferred, and if we knew if we planned on sending our children back to school or not this Fall.

The school board also asked families to participate in an asynchronous online brainstorming session.  Families were asked to input our top concerns and to rate at least 10 ideas shared by other families. Our family input 5 concerns, with our teen’s input, then rated over 100 ideas shared by others.

The school board shared a summary of the brainstorming session results with all families by email. I know that 40% of the families who participated voted for alternate days attendance. That means this Fall, our teen attending that high school, will go to classes with their peers on either Mon/Wed/alternate Fridays, or Tue/Thu/alternate Fridays. I know that their peers who have siblings attending different schools in that board, will be attending school the same day as their younger siblings. That means families will know what days they have to plan child care for, and if there are older children in the families, they can be the child care plan for the other children living in their home.

I mentioned we have two teens planning to be in high school this Fall. The only communication I’ve received from the younger teen’s school board and new high school about returning to school, is a notice (by phone and email) that the school board is considering options, and an email about how and where to buy school uniforms. This teen is going through a growth spurt, so we’ll wait for August before ordering any uniform pieces.
 
This teen chose to attend a completely different high school from their older siblings. They decided they want to sign up for an International Baccalaureate (IB) program, to set them on the path for success for further education. This teen needed a little more nudging to examine the pros and cons.  Once they made a decision, they were ready to press ahead and make it happen. We made arrangements to visit the school during a PA day, and ended up spending over an hour with the IB program coordinator. I watched my teen do their first interview with an adult making choices about their suitability for something they wanted. Then we toured the school, met the principal and other staff. Once again, I was impressed by the inclusiveness of the school my child had found.
 
Everyone we met during that visit, and the visits that followed, were welcoming and friendly. The vibe of the school (a sign of its organizational culture) was upbeat and positive. The principal, a person who’d been principal to schools my children had attended previously, was happy and relaxed. We started completing the paperwork after the first visit.
 
Even though the second school board and high school have not communicated their plan to parents yet, or even engaged us in the discussion, everything I know about them suggests that I can trust them with my child’s safety. If I didn’t trust them, I’d be lobbying the high school and the school board for more information.
 
Why am I sharing this story with you? I know that there are many parents that are anxious about sending their children back to school this Fall. I know that there are school staff, including teachers and everyone else who works in schools, who are anxious about the pandemic and their at-risk family members.
 
I truly believe that if we work together, making contingency plans for those who will choose to work/learn from home, and those who will pursue a blended option, while taking all reasonable precautions to keep everyone safe, then we will find solutions that work, and help our youth learn the things they need to thrive in our new normal. Whatever that is. Examining known conditions, planning for the unexpected, and having several back up plans in place before they’re needed, is an excellent way to combat anxiety.

​I’ve enjoyed speaking in front of groups for as long as I can remember. As a child in grade school, I used to tell my playmates the story of what we were playing that day, and then assign everyone a role.  I even occasionally assigned speaking parts (forgive me, little sister).

When I started my business, I knew I wanted to be a professional speaker. I also knew I wasn’t keen on traveling, as I had 3 relatively young offspring at the time and I wanted to be present in their lives.
In 2014, I realized that I could deliver talks and training sessions online, in a webinar format. I happily concentrated most of my efforts on delivering online sessions, occasionally traveling to speak live to audiences in Ontario and Quebec.
 
This week I saw a post from Deanna Burgart, Professional Speaker | Trainer | Indigeneer, wondering what her social media followers thought of the idea of offering one of her popular talks as a webinar to raise funds for the IndigeSTEAM project near and dear to her heart. Deanna’s question and the discussion it generated inspired this week’s blog.

My answer summed up in 3 words was “go for it!”  While many people are providing free online content during the pandemic, they also offer pay per view content.
 
Getting paid to speak comes down to knowing who your audiences are, being able to let your audiences know what you offer and making it easy for them to pay for your talks.

When I started out on the adventure of becoming a professional speaker, I did what I always do when I want to learn something. As a voracious reader, I purchased a number of books about professional speaking and followed successful speakers on social media.

Along the way, I’ve met speakers at events and asked them for advice. I’ve also met other aspiring professional speakers, and shared what I’d learned to date. Why? Because I believe in sharing what I’ve learned to help others thrive.

I asked Deanna if she was willing to share a professional speaking tip with for this blog, she said “Your value is much more than your hourly rate to prepare and deliver a talk. When you are setting your fees, remember they are hiring you for years of wisdom and experience in your subject matter.”

Many people don’t realize that their knowledge and skills are of value to others, and that they can charge people to attend their talks, even if the talks take place online. For perspective, one of my professional associations, the Human Resources Professionals Association (HRPA) has offered the majority of our webinar content free to HRPA members since mid March 2020. HRPA charges non-members a fee to attend the webinars.

One way to find the right markets (audiences) and then get the word out (marketing) is to form strategic alliances with organizations that are willing to pay you to deliver your knowledge, to their audiences. They may also market your talks, so that all you have to do is show up and share your knowledge, then get paid. I’m honoured to work closely with two Canadian companies that help me share my knowledge with their audiences - Indigenous Link and MentorCity.

Early in 2021, I’ll be providing two sessions for the HRPA Annual Conference. One of my coaching clients, Matt Richardson is also providing two sessions at #HRPAAC. He’s been speaking to HRPA audiences, for pay, since September 2018. Every time he does a professional speaking gig, he picks up new clients for the other services he offers.

As a speaker and trainer, I get paid for the majority of the content I deliver, whether online or in person. I also choose to offer some content on a pro bono basis.

I know several other speakers, who have benefited from the opportunity to deliver webinars, for pay, as demand grew exponentially since mid March this year.  They are all working in strategic alliances.
That being said, every professional speaker I know, also chooses to deliver some talks on a pro bono basis, to not for profits or other organizations in their communities.
 
I do pro bono talks because I consider it a small way to “pay it forward” for all those that have helped me. I can make this choice because I had the privilege of: growing up in a military family, gaining experience and marketable skills while serving in the military, and having a defined benefit military pension.

In answer to the implied question in the title “To speak, or not to speak: professionally?’ – go for it!  If you like sharing your knowledge with others, and are going to do it whether you’re paid or not, why not speak professionally and get paid at least some of the time?

I’d like to start by acknowledging that I am writing this blog from traditional Anishinaabe and Haudenosaunee territory. I am grateful to be able to live, work, learn and play on these lands. I’m grateful to share these lands with Indigenous peoples who still live on these lands today, Wednesday July 1, 2020.

I’m grateful to be living in a safe home, with potable water, indoor plumbing, and electricity (some of it generated by the solar panels on our roof).

I’m grateful to have income security, with a defined benefit military pension. I’m grateful that my spouse and I are each able to pursue our dreams of creating a better world for future generations through our respective businesses. He is helping create a more energy efficient built environment, and I’m doing my bit for equality, diversity and inclusion, with the aim of helping people learn how they, their organizations and communities can thrive.

I’m grateful that my immediate family and friends enjoy relatively good health, and that we have access to health and dental care, within 120 km radius from our homes.

I’m grateful for food security, affordable grocery stores and local businesses like butchers, bakers and delis, for being able to buy food from local farmers, and being able to grow some of our own food.

I’m grateful that quality education and training is readily available, both online and within a 50 km radius from our home. While we’re at it, I’m grateful for unlimited Internet, with relatively decent speed and capacity to serve a variety of IoT devices.  (IoT = Internet of Things)

I’m grateful for the opportunities the pandemic has brought my way. The opportunity to have meaningful conversations about the new normal many of us would like to help create, and to take action on creating systemic change.

I’m grateful for the time to reflect on what is important to me, and how I can help create the new normal I envision. One where everyone is treated with respect, regardless of what they do for work, their level of education, what language they speak, or any other “difference.” Where all have an opportunity to earn a living wage, or to receive a guaranteed basic income. Where there is significantly less wage discrepancy between celebrities and those who actually make our society possible, people like the front-line workers at grocery stores, farms, and manufacturing plants. A world where we realize it makes more sense to use renewable energy sources, than to continue pouring money into the fossil fuel industry. A world where we care more about growing food than growing lawns. A world where everyone has a safe home, with potable water, food security, indoor plumbing and electricity. A world where everyone has access to affordable health and dental care, public transportation, internet and a sense of community. A world where we respect the planet and nurture the rich biodiversity before it all disappears. A world where all children can thrive.

I’m grateful to live in the land most people call Canada. I’m grateful to be “Canadian.” There are many good things about living here.

That being said, Canada is a work in progress. Canada tried to commit genocide on the Indigenous peoples who first lived on these lands, thousands of years before European colonizers arrived and chose to make their homes here.

There is still systemic bias, discrimination and racism in most organizations and communities across these lands.

There are people, from all backgrounds and ethnicities, living in poverty, without access to potable water, food security, and safe housing. Without access to affordable basic necessities of life. Without an opportunity to earn a living wage. Without reasonably nearby medical and dental coverage, quality and respectful education and training, or sufficient internet access to allow for at least some of the things that most people in the lands we call Canada take for granted. Some of the people in these circumstances live in urban settings, others live in remote communities, where their families have lived for hundreds, if not thousands of years.

I’m humbled by the enormity of changing our “normal” to a “new normal” where everyone can thrive.

I’m honoured to learn from those whose lived experiences are vastly different from mine.
​
I pledge to continue doing my bit to help create the new normal I wish for our future.  Please join me in learning what you can, and acting in whatever way you can to help usher in a new normal where we can all thrive.  Every action, no matter how small, will help us reach the tipping point.
 
Thank you.