Page 46 - January 2019 Voices
P. 46

FROM THE FIELD






      Confessions of a Chicken Little




      Paul Fanning, DTM








      I must confess. Confession (or so we are told) is good for the soul. Yet it is one of the hardest things anyone
      can do—admit they made a mistake or went the wrong direction. You see “It” had been eating away at me
      for months, this reality that I created for myself. And the worst part of it all? I managed to get others to

      agree with my assessment, my error, my shame. What is this deep, dark secret you ask? Keep reading fellow
      Toastmasters. and I’ll tell you the tale.


       It began on that fateful morning of September 18,  march with my broadside of doom, brimstone

      2017 when the announcement that the Pathways  and fire soon to be raining down upon us.
      program was rolling out for our region and of              Yes, it was I, the denouncer of programs.
      course our district. I read the email and was  Mr. Negative and Bah-Humbug Scrooge-like,
      immediately horrified. What have they done to  cold and stone hearted “it’ll never be successful”

      my Toastmasters? How could they? THE SKY IS  harbinger of the end times. I relished my new
      FALLING! Thus, like Chicken Little of the moral  role as doomsayer, and I was being patient to
      fable, I grabbed my placard and began marching  publicize my “I told you so” to all that would
      around proclaiming the doom and gloom that  listen.

      was sure to happen at any moment. THE SKY
      WAS FALLING!
         I was smug in my proclamation. I felt justified
      as others, too, were convinced that someone had

      “bumped their head” and “this was the end of
      Toastmasters”. Yes, I confess—confess that I felt a
      little gleeful when a club declared they wouldn’t
      make the change or enroll new members in

      Pathways. The end was near when a Toastmaster
      I knew well quit in disgust. My pronouncement
      was spot-on. THE SKY HAD FALLEN!
         Precipitously I began to look around me. What

      was this? A whole club embracing the dreaded
      “new” program? Pshaw. Coincidence. Then
      another rushed to get their members enrolled?
      Clearly hysteria! I believed as I continued to




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