Many years ago, as I sat in a darkened theater in Santa Monica, California, as a student in an acting workshop, it was finally my turn to perform a monologue.
I climbed onto the stage with shaky legs, my heart beating hard, with my only thought: "I just want to get this done!" So, even though I could still hear my classmates chatting, I launched into my monologue, and by about a minute in, everyone finally quieted down.
After I was done, I slunk back to my seat and, a classmate, who was a super-talented actor, leaned over and whispered in my ear,
“Your problem is you don’t know how to be a diva.”
“What do you mean?” I whispered back.
“You didn’t wait until we were quiet before beginning.”
“Oh.” I said. I was crushed. “What are you supposed to do?”
“You wait. Until everyone shuts up,” he said.
When it was his turn, I watched closely: He walked to the stage and stood there, looking at the audience, for maybe a second or two. It wasn't menacing; it was powerful and still. Like magic, we settled down. And I thought, “Oh, now I get it.”
From that day on
I never again started anything, a monologue or a presentation, until I had my audience’s attention. I don't stare the audience down but I look at them, like:
"I'm ready. Are you?"
Channeling your inner diva could mean waiting for your audience to settle, launching a story with a punchy open, insisting on a sound check or... What does being a diva mean to you?
What have you done in situations when you don’t have the audience’s attention and you want it?
Many of us grew up with that unspoken rule that you shouldn't ever be an "attention-getter." Which is kind of ironic when you realize that as a public speaking coach, I'm teaching my clients everyday about how to grab and hold an audience's attention.
When have you been a diva? Or wished you’d been a diva? Do you have any diva stories? I'd love to hear.
My first brush with being a diva, at a talent show in the school gym, where I sang a song with a friend (not pictured because I was the diva!) from the musical Guys and Dolls. Circa 1970s.