One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven
Get Your Own Voice When you speak, let us hear your thoughts, your opinions, your beliefs, your feelings. These are what make you unique as a human being, and they are what make you interesting to others.
And let it be in your words. Don't stand up in front of the whole school and say to a visitor: 'On behalf of the students of Mount Tomlin College I'd like to thank you for speaking a our Assembly this morning, and to say how honoured we are...'
Instead work out what you thought of the speech, and say that, remembering of course that certain courtesy apply.
Thanks for coming today. What you said about New Guinea made me realise that I didn't know anything about the place before this, which is pretty dumb considering it's our nearest neighbour. But now I wouldn't mind going there to check it out myself. So thanks for making us more aware of it.
That's all you need.
Don't use the voice of a middle-aged person if you're not middle-aged:
I hope she fulfils all her expectations in her chosen field of study.
This was part of a speech I heard in a country high school, when the school vice-captain was farewelling the captain, who was leaving for America.
When Queen Elizabeth II visited Parkes, NSW, a Year 11 student gave a welcoming speech:
Your visit will linger forever in our minds.
Equally, when you write non-fiction - a history essay, for example, or a literature essay, or a letter - your should be heard clearly. Don't use words you wouldn't use in speech. Express yourself in words that are right for you. Don't write 'I purchased a bike' if you bought one. Don't write 'our accommodation was in a youth hostel' if you mean you stayed in one.
A year 12 boy in Sydney, in his school magazine wrote:
...we must all make the little effort that is needed to keep our uniforms neat and tidy and behave in a manner that will surely give the school a reputation of fostering responsible, well-disciplined and courteous young members of society.
That was written in 1993, not 1893. It sounds like a parent or teacher, not a 17-year-old.
It's not just teenagers either. Recently a New Zealand politician, being interviewed on national television, was asked if his government was going ahead with plans to shoot wild horses. He replied:
I think you can say there is a certain inevitability about that outcome.
He meant 'Yes'. But he has become so strangled by language that he can't say the one simple word.
One of my first jobs was at the Water Board in Sydney. I was assigned to the Personnel Department and spent three weeks going through job applications, removing original documents and shredding what was left. There were thousands of applications and it was a pretty boring job, so I started reading the letters as I shredded them. Before long their dullness and repetition began to grind away at my mind, like listening to someone singing the same song over and over:
Dear Mr Macdonald,
I am writing to apply for the position advertised in the Sydney Morning Herald on April 15. My name is Marc Lennox and I am a Year 12 student at St Anne' High School. I am studying English, Economics, Physics, Biology and Indonesian. My interests are hockey, water-skiing, reading and music. The reason I think this job would suit me is because I have always liked...
Yuck. No wonder Marc got an equally dull letter back thanking him for his application but informing him that the position had been filled by someone else.
If 80 people apply for the one position, and your letter is like 79 others in the pile, why should an employer hire you? Your letter has to be such that when the employer gets to the bottom of the pile, yours will be the one that sticks in his or her mind.
How can you achieve this? By the end of the three weeks at the Water Board there were a few letters that stuck in my mind. They were warm and personal; they were sincere, even passionate; they used humour; they struck a confident note; they engaged me as a reader.
I felt the personality of the writer in every line, and I liked their personalities. I wanted to meet those people and get to know them better.
That's personal voice.
John Kirkbride wrote a couple of quirky novels about job applications you might enjoy. The first is called In Reply to Your Advertisement and its sequel is called Thank You for Your Application.
When you speak or write for yourself, don't slip into false or imitative language. We've seen enough hypocritical language over the centuries. There's no need for you to add to it.
I collect examples of authentic personal voice. Here's an example from football legend Ted Whitten, when his team, Victoria, had been beaten by South Australia:
I think it's important that we accept defeat gracefully, but speaking personally I'd have to say I'm a bit pissed off.
When Australian cricketer David Boon was hit on the chest by a rising ball, Max Walker gave this vivid prediction of Boon's bruises:
He'll have a receipt for a couple of days, no doubt about that. The rings of Saturn will come out - green, purple, a sort of murky grey...
I overheard this on a plane to Tasmania; from a passenger talking to the stewardess about his mate:
You can only take him anywhere twice, and the second time it's to apologise.
Here's Terry Wheeler; ex-coach of the AFL Western Bulldogs team:
There are no trees on a football field, no rocks, nowhere to hide.
I find that stark, direct and powerful.
And this is swimmer Tracey Wickham, talking about her disciplined approach to her sport:
There was one girl I used to swim against. She'd stand up there on the blocks beside me and I'd be 100 per cent serious and blocking everything out and here she'd be, this pretty blonde thing, winking at the boys and yapping away to me, saying things like, 'Gee Tracey, I like your hair.' I like you hair! I'd think, No wonder you never do any good, your mind's all over the place. You're in the wrong place, kid. Go and do ballet or something.
I'm not suggesting that Tracey's going to pick up any writing awards but there's something special about her language. And it's this: her voice comes through so powerfully. We know that we are hearing her self. It is authentic. As well, it's lively and engaging: a strong expression of her attitudes.
One highly important factor in voice is the influence of age. Teenagers have a different voice to children; middle-aged and old people are different again. A six-year-old won't come home from a birthday party and say to his mother: 'I scored the hottest chick in spin-the-bottle.' A school principal probably won't start an assembly with the words: 'Love ya, dudes! How's it all hanging?'
When young tycoon Lachlan Murdoch spoke at a press conference after a court victory for his Super League, he said: 'I was rapt...' Everyone laughed, so he quickly changed his words to 'Well I was very happy.' He had been made to feel that his voice was wrong: too young for the situation in which he found himself.
What else affects voice? Gender, for sure. Men and women have always had different voices. 'Mate' was a male word in Australia for nearly 200 years, but women have been using it since about 1970. I still think of 'G'day, mate' as a male expression, but of course women use it. Words like 'sweet' and 'cute' have traditionally been female words, but it depends on the context: I can say 'This jam's too sweet', or 'This cake's too sweet', but I wouldn't feel comfortable saying 'You're a really sweet bloke.'
Personality and status are probably the biggest determinants of voice. You might remember the Anthony Browne book Willie the Wimp. Willie has the bad habit of apologising for everything. When he walks into a lamppost he apologises to the lamppost. He's low status and it shows. Low-status people tend to apologise all the time.
High status can be pompous ('It has come to my attention that some of your recent behaviour...') or aggressive ('You can get stuffed, mate') or confident ('Put it there, thanks')
High-status people often use long words and long sentences. They do this because they are confident they won't be interrupted.
Your voice should be honest and confident, without being aggressive or overpowering.
Previous Top Next
