Social Anxiety Can Get You an A+
By: Bill Bishop
Tags: Public Speaking, University, Social Anxiety Disorder, Computer Science, Anxiety

I wanted to be a history teacher when I graduated high school. Given the option I would have gone to university to graduate with a Bachelor of Arts in History and then a Bachelor of Education.

I know I would have been content teaching history — I read a lot of books and they are mostly non-fiction, history. For example biographies on Albert Einstein and Benjamin Franklin. Any fiction I read is usually history based, for example All Quiet on the Western Front or Tobacco Road.

And I like telling stories and sharing facts from what I have read, although just like high school, not everyone wants to hear them.

But the option to become a history teacher did not exist for me, at least not in my way of thinking. You see, I had a severe phobia of public speaking in high school, to the degree I would have panic attacks if I was expected to speak in class. It was weird because I was ok being a class clown, but once I had to prepare to speak in front of the class for a school requirement I was a mess. Even weirder is that I could perform in school theatre productions and not be anxious. I rationalized I was reciting a script and not using my own words so I could not be criticized for what I was saying. And because my memory never let me down in high school, it was not that difficult.

Even going to university was almost beyond my capabilities. It was not because I could not succeed academically — I was always a good student, with high marks and awards for biology and chemistry (I wanted the one for history). It was because I was very unsure of what I was doing. No one in my family had ever gone to university before, so I had no role model, no one to ask for advice. I come from a hard-working family of railroaders, four generations. I worked there myself during four summers — that is what paid for my post-secondary education. (Pro tip — do not work where your father is your boss).

But if I was going to university, what was I going to study? Bigger question — what was I going to study that did not involve public speaking? I was good at math and it was 1979 so I thought why not study the new field of computer science? It would be me and a machine, no need to public speak if you are a computer programmer. Or so I thought.

Funny thing about university — they want you to be well-rounded, so they make you study and do things that you would prefer were not part of your degree requirements. Like a second language. Ouch. I chose Spanish because a friend of mine told me you pronounce every letter, no silent “H” like French.

And public speaking — they want you to do some of that too. Yikes. Most of my classes did not require presentations. A lot of them did require you to answer questions tossed at you by the profs. I was managing those ok, as long as the prof wasn’t some sort of sadist (hello Dr. Ffrench in Economics 101).

The first hard wall I ran into was a class on Systems Analysis and Design. The prof had a PhD in psychology — he could really mess with your mind when he was in the mood. I was intimidated by him. Usually a prof would tell you the course requirements at the beginning of the semester, including if a presentation was required. This mind twister decided six weeks into the semester each student would need to do a presentation. So I did what any unreasonable phobic of public speaking would do — I went straight to the register’s office and dropped the course. It was not a required course for my degree. Whew! However I was carrying a 96% average in the course and I dropped it like it was radioactive. I felt so relieved — like I dodged a bullet, or a cancer diagnosis, relieved.

It left a scar though. It was past the deadline for making course adjustments, so on my transcript of marks, beside Systems Analysis and Design, instead of a grade there is a “W” for Withdrew. A scarlet “W” — a mark of shame that cannot be erased. Stupid anxiety.

There was another course that same year that was also turning into a wall — Operating Systems. Dr. Jim Bradford was a good prof, except for one annoying habit — posing a question at the end of each class and then calling on a student to answer it at the following class. I could handle pop questions, because my anxious mind did not have time to turn it into a monstrous threat. Because Dr. Bradford told us the question ahead of time, he was not ok with guesses or a lack of preparation, and he skewered those who were not prepared.

Operating Systems was a required course for my degree. Dropping the course meant dropping from my degree program. Much higher stakes than dropping out of a non-required course like Systems Analysis and Design. Funny thing about anxiety, you can be in a panic about something, but if another threat, real or imagined, comes along that trumps that first threat, then you can move past the first threat.

For example, you could have a severe fear of heights (I don’t) and going on ladders, but if the building is on fire, the fear of dying in the fire will trump your fear of falling off the ladder. You will get on that ladder, whether you are on fire or not.

I was not about to give up on my degree program, at least not without a fight. I mean we all knew the question ahead of time, and the answers were in the text book. And it was Operating Systems, so there was only one right answer — you just had to find it, often just a definition, and memorize it. I had a very good memory, so what could go wrong? Well, the anxious mind can make up many things that can go wrong — it does it very well, just like evolution intended. It becomes a mental disorder when the brain cannot distinguish between rational and irrational thoughts.

Job #1 was to write down the question as Dr. Bradford wrote it on the blackboard (it was 1981), find the answer in the text book, and then memorize it. I did this class after class, sitting there in a near panic waiting for a name to be called, but my name was never called. Not yet. Then I got sick with the flu and missed a week of classes. I was desperate to get the questions from the classes I missed. As I asked a classmate for the questions, and he said Dr. Bradford had called my name when I was absent. Say what? Would he now skip over my name or would I become the next target. I could not chance it, so I studied even harder to make sure I was prepared. At the next class, I was so close to running out of the room with panic, but I held my ground. And then Dr. Bradford called a name — it was not mine. In a twisted way I was disappointed, in the same way a vasectomy is postponed (years later I postponed mine 5 times), in that you just want it to be over.

So the next question went up on the board. It was late in the semester and I knew Dr. Bradford could not call on everyone before the end of the term as their were too many students. Maybe I would dodge this bullet. Maybe I could get the flu again — I could hope.

Next class, and Dr. Bradford calls a name. Bill Bishop. Something happens when you have a phobia of public speaking and then it is now your turn to public speak. The anxiety often changes. Sometimes it becomes more intense. Sometimes it begins to lessen. For most, it can be one or the other, often depending on how prepared you are to speak. I was prepared, so it became somewhat less. I was still nervous, but not as anxious.

This is the paradox of the fear of public speaking. You can be so intensely scared as you anticipate all of the bad things that could happen — called awfulization — that when you actually start to public speak, the fear melts away, as your brain is now getting feedback that things are not as awful as you imagined. Eventually this feedback helps sort our rational thoughts from our irrational thoughts. And once the irrational thoughts are parsed out, the fear of public speaking is no longer at the level of a disorder. You will probably still be nervous, but not panic stricken.

After calling out my name, and seeing that I was there, Dr. Bradford laid on some sarcasm about me being absent the first time. The laughter from the class actually relaxed me some more.

And then the question: Define interleaved memory? And so I went to my own memory banks, retrieved the answer, and recited the definition exactly as it was written in the text book. I guess you could say it was a text book answer (pun intended).

Dr. Bradford smiled and said it was the best answer he had heard all semester, and it was well worth waiting for. How could it not? I literally recited it word for word from the text book he assigned. Did I know how it was used or why it was used? That was not the point. He asked for the definition and I gave it to him. That is how school used to work — what was called rote learning. I was good at it because of my ability to memorize. How else could I get an “A” in calculus and still not know how to use it in the real word?

The semester was ending and it was time for final exams. I never really had test anxiety. I saved all of my anxious energy for public speaking. My memory always served me well when taking exams. Often the answers I wrote were exactly what I read or what the teacher/professor said in class. My mark often depended on how well I prepared and how interested I was in the subject. Dr. Bradford’s insistence that we study one question from one chapter each class, and that someone would have to deliver the answer orally in class, fed directly into my fear of public speaking. I prepared, obsessively, to answer all the questions until my name was called. My name was called late in the semester, which meant I studied like a lunatic on speed right up until the final exam.

And the result — I scored 98% on the exam and received an A+ in the course, Operating Systems.

Why? Because Dr. Bradford motivated the hell out of me by asking the class to be prepared to answer questions, out loud, in the classroom, with all of my fellow students listening and judging. A Public Speaking phobic’s nightmare.

I know that if Dr. Bradford had not fed my anxiety, I would not have received an A+. I was not that motivated, and I would have been happy with an A-, which was my average throughout four years of university.

Operating Systems was the only class where the prof used this technique. I was amazed at the students in the class who did not prepare or did not seem to care if Dr. Bradford skewered them in from of the class. I am pretty sure they did not get an A+.

The A+ was not my goal — my goal was to survive answering a question in front of the class. I did that, and the A+ was the payoff. It was the only A+ I earned during university.

The other payoff was I completed my degree requirements, including Operating Systems, in the minimum four years, and graduated with a Bachelor of Computer Science in 1983. There were many more intense battles with my fear of public speaking during those four years-including dropping another class. I have been delivering software ever since.

And that teaching thing I wanted to do so badly? It eventually happened. I spent ten years getting paid to teach evening classes. The subject? Public Speaking. Life is full of irony.