One of our most interesting testimonials comes from a past student, Mark McCue. In a series of articles published in the Toronto Star, Mark shared with the readers what drove him to take the Christopher Leadership Course and what the experience meant to him. Take a moment and follow Mark's journey to improved self-confidence.
Piecing the puzzle together.
One student's journey
In January 1998 Mark McCue began a journey which would eventually lead him to Toronto West’s Fall 1998 Christopher Leadership Course.
Mark 's original letter to the Toronto Star created quite a number of responses, but not everyone has had the opportunity to read it, or any of the subsequent letters that followed. We felt it important to offer you an opportunity to witness how one person’s story could reach out and touch so many others.
Sunday January 11, 1998
The bride is a 22-year-old vision in white satin and, like many in the room, I am staring at her.
The bride is looking only slightly more magical today than the first time I stared at her, the day she was born. The bride is my niece. There have been six other little girls born who call me uncle, but the bride is Number 1 niece. No favouritism - the bride just touched down in my life before all the others.
The master of ceremonies invites anyone who wants to say a few words to step up to the microphone. The father of the bride, never at a loss for words, or volume, forgoes the mike and takes his turn. Laughter all around.
I want to speak but nervous sweat has me secure in my seat. Besides, I could never top the father of the bride. The father of the bride is also my brother, my Number 1 brother. No favouritism here, either; he just appeared in the line-up first.
I want to speak but I stay glued to my chair. The uncle loses his nerve, not an unusual experience for the uncle, and probably just as well for the sake of the guests.
So instead of speech-making, I pace, round and round the trailers and boats in the park surrounding the hall where the reception is being held.
"You’re a little overdressed for a trailer park," a camper shouts as I walk towards the shore. Again, Uncle gets close to the edge of doing something, then stops just before his own predicted doom. "My niece is getting married," I tell them, and I remember that the ceremony is over and it’s done.
The bride did her part royally, on time, composed, smiling and not a tear, all with a couple of hundred eyes watching her every move. Can the Uncle not do less? While pacing I recite:
Before I toast the bride, I want to acknowledge those from whom she came - her parents. Twenty-four years ago, in the summer of 1973, I was 13 and my big brother was married. From that event, and from that brother, I learned just about everything I needed to know about wives, weddings and wonder.
The first thing I learned from my brother was how to pick a bride. I learned that, when looking for a wife, you must first find the most beautiful girl in town and make her yours. My brother certainly did. And while the groom here today may not like to think that he would ever follow in his father-in-law’s footseps, in marrying my niece, he already has.
The most important thing I learned from the parents of the bride involved the wonder and, sometimes, the heartache in the miracle of birth.
Not long after the parents of the bride returned home from their honeymoon, the brother told me to "go see what your new sister is making." The new sister, alone in their car, was doing absolutely nothing that I could see, unless looking radiant is doing something. All the adults winked at one another.
I must have missed it. I looked again - nothing. Boy, was I wrong. We were pregnant. Let me repeat that : WE were pregnant.
Right from the start of the pregnancy, I was an uncle. And I loved it. Could I wait? Nine months is a long time when you’re 13. I waited and I watched and I loved it. Before the baby was born, before the sex was known, I loved it. But God had other plans.
(This is where I, standing in front of 190 family and friends will get angry with myself for once more forgetting to fill my pockets with Kleenex, as right here, now as I type, the tears begin.)
"The baby was not meant to be and the word misscarriage entered my teenage vocabulary. The uncle-no-more was shattered.
I could not then, nor can I today, imagine how my brother and sister-in-law must have felt. But I watched those two prospective parents accept it, together in quiet dignity.
From them, I learned that the facts of life are not just about giving pleasure to one another, but more about perserverance together, through the tears and the smiles. It’s an example I hope the new bride and groom will understand, learn and live by.
The new sister became pregnant a second time. The entire family held thier collective breaths all nine months long. I was 14 years old by then and tried to show my maturity by keeping control of my renewed excitement. I failed.
When, on Sunday, the 22nd day if September 1974, weighing in a 8 pounds, 10 onces, a baby girl arrived, an uncle was born. (She will never know how long she was waited for, by so many, with love in their hearts.)
"To my neice, Kerry Annette, the bride."
When Festival Country Christopher Leadership Course instructor John Gefucia read Mark McCue’s letter in the Toronto Star, he immediately recalled his own experiences.
"I just want to let him know that he was not alone, and that there were solutions that were available to him."
John felt that it was necessary for him to reach out and help Mark on the road to self-help. Taking pen and paper in hand, he wrote a response to Mark letter, which he hoped would help steer him towards a solution that would aid him in overcoming his fears.
At the time that he wrote it, he had no idea what an impact he would have on Mark. While taking the course, Mark shared with me his amazement at John’s response.
"I was at first; surprised that someone cared to respond, then comforted to know that I was not alone. Mostly I was motivated. Motivated to do something, and do something I did. I met the challenge and it changed my life."
Mark’s first course of action after reading John’s letter was to contact him. As he put it;
"My first step was to contact my self-proclaimed mentor. John took the time (again) and put me in touch with a member of the Christopher Leadership Course in Effective Speaking in my area. A few more phone calls later and I was registered for the next course, commencing on September 23, 1998."
Mark and John have been in communications many times since this article was published in The Star. And it only seemed fitting that when Mark’s Christopher class was about to graduate, that John come to his graduation, and see Mark’s journey at its’ end.
Invited to attend the graduation, John was introduced to Mark at the end of the ceremonies, to Mark’s great delight.
Many people often wonder if one person truly can make a difference. John Gefucia has proven to us that it is possible.
Sunday February 1, 1998
Re Uncle offers bridal toast he was too shy to deliver (Jan. 11).
I was deeply touched by Mark McCue’s letter. What a lovely tribute to his niece, "the beautiful bride," and also to his brother and sister-in-law, who have taught him valuable lessons in life.
I was especially sympathetic to the frustration he felt in not being able to stand before the guests and deliver this beautiful speech.
Mark wrote of nervous sweat, loss of nerve and stopping because of predictable doom. I sympathize, because I have been there myself.
Mark’s letter brought back memories of my own wedding, where I had so much to say, so many to thank - so much that should have been said. Yet I mumbled incoherently for a minute and sat down.
I have memories of a seminar at university where I was so nervous that I went totally blank. I simply picked up my books and walked away, never to return.
Even though I consider myself to be strong in other areas of my life, and can communicate effectively one-on-one, I avoided any situations in which I might have to speak before an audience. I hated this feeling of fear and defeat. I look back in regret at many opportunities I let slip away because of it.
Five years ago, I was challenged by my sister-in-law to attend the Christopher Leadership Course.
The Christophers are a non-profit organization that offer a 10-week basic skills course in effective speaking. In a step-by-step program, led by a team of volunteers, I went from almost fleeing the room in the first week to speaking before a roomful in the 10th week and actually enjoying it.
The skills and confidence that I have developed have allowed me to do things I never thought possible. I am now a certified instructor in the Christopher program; I enter speaking contests (I even won one); I judge speaking contests for elementary school children sponsored by the Legion and the Knights of Columbus.
Mark, I challenge you (and anyone else who suffers from this fear), to seek out this organization. The confidence you will develop and the satisfaction you will get from confronting and learning to control your fear of public speaking will amaze you.
Although you never got to speak at your niece’s wedding, look forward to being master of ceremonies at her daughter’s.
John Gefucia
Brantford
Sunday February 14, 1999
September 23, 1998 - Night One: Five enthusiastic instructors and twenty-one nervous students. The students standing stiffer than the rocks of Stonehendge (with much less assurance of our lasting potential), were asked a few simple ‘getting to know you’ questions by the instructors, and we were required to answer the questions OUT LOUD and in front of everyone! I stammered, stuttered, stared at the floor and said very little. After class I hailed the first available taxi, headed for home and was never going back.
Back home, on the desk in my apartment sits a Christening picture of my number three niece, Katie Rosemarie, with her older brother and sisters, taken in 1979. Katie, who is today 19 and a student in Loyalist College, is a bright, beautiful and confident young women. I would like to know that she feels pride in herself, her accomplishments and for her to know that she is capable of so much in this world - I wasn’t at her age, and even now when I am exactly twice her age I fear that I’m still not! Back to the Christopher Leadership Course I went.
October 28, 1998 - Night Six: Christopher Leadership Course Instructors are volunteers - they receive no compensation for their work. They work long hours, preparing, reciting, listening, note taking, and more, and all for love of what they do. The five Christopher Leadership Instructors in my course are five of the most dedicated, talented and caring human beings that God ever put breath into. Their commitment to every student in the course is unwavering, their kind words of encouragement are continual, and greatly, and thankfully, appreciated by all. But mostly it is their abounding enthusiasm that keeps each of us coming back for more. They know what they’re doing, they are enthusiastic about life and helping others, and they have the empathy from having gone through it all themselves.
In six weeks I, and the other members of the Christopher Leadership Course, had grown in faith, courage and enthusiasm. Faith in ourselves and our capabilities, courage to stand in front of a small group of new friends and talk about our lives, and enthusiasm, as seen from our smiles and heard from our clear, and increasingly confident, tones. By secret ballot the students in the course voted for the ‘The Most Improved Student’. I was flabbergasted when I heard my name called. (What must I have been like the last five weeks?) The recipient (a different student each week) of this award receives a pen inscribed ‘Most Improved Student’. (Not having been a student for 22 years, I am quite flattered to be using it today!) With my ego inflated with new confidence I now walk to the subway with other members of class, and actually look forward to presenting next week’s assignment.
My niece, Katie Rosemarie is waiting for me when I arrive home, swaddled in silks and lace, and perched on my desk. She is my audience, week after week as I rehearse to her. Katie neither criticizes nor applauds her Uncle, however, she does smile at everything I say. An appreciative audience to be sure.
December 2, 1998 - Graduation: One hundred and fifty eyeballs! Each member of the Christopher Leadership Course was asked to invite their friends and family members to attend the Graduation Ceremonies. Over 75 people were on hand to celebrate our graduation.
In ten weeks we had gone from shy to shine, and oh how we shined that night! As each and every member of the Christopher Leadership Graduation Class stood, front and centre, hands at our sides, smiles broad, confidence in check, voices clear and loud (no ‘ums’ or ‘ah’s’ tonight) as we each, in turn, gave a two minute talk in front of a large audience.
Unknown to me, I had a special guest in the audience. John Gefucia, who motivated me to take the course, drove to Toronto, from Brantford, to surprise me. And surprise me he did! I was rendered speechless (not a good thing for a public speaking graduate) at coming face-to-face with the man who has inspired me to make changes in my life. If angels come in Human form, then I have met six and one of them is named is John Gefucia.
The other five Angels are Sarah Brooks, Steve Kreider, Martha McKay, Andy Pinter and Glen Simourd my Christopher Leadership Instructors. Each of you, in your own individual and unique way, are not only engaging and effective speakers but also talented and gifted human beings and you have done the greatest thing possible with your lives. You have ventured out into the community and shared your time and your talents with others in a heartfelt measure to try and make the world a better place. You have succeeded.
By your example, and by using the simple, effective, time proven formulas used in the Christopher Leadership Course in Effective Speaking, you, and the course, have helped me, and every graduate, to find the faith to believe in ourselves, the courage to follow our dreams, and the enthusiasm with which to meet the challenges that each new day will invariably present.
As a result of my new-found confidence I have registered with the University of Toronto to pursue that bachelor of arts degree I had been too afraid to try for these past 22 years.
I am proud to tell you that on February 9, 1999 I began pre-university classes (the pre-university facilitator was very kind to this ‘mature student’ as she referred to OAC’s as ‘what you, sir, would remember as Grade 13’).
I actually believe that I am now at the most confident part of my life and I look forward to taking on this challenge. Will I succeed? Can I do it? Yes and YES.
Watch out Katie Rosemarie, your Uncle might beat you to the graduation podium.
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The bride is looking only slightly more magical today than the first time I stared at her, the day she was born. The bride is my niece. There have been six other little girls born who call me uncle, but the bride is Number 1 niece. No favouritism - the bride just touched down in my life before all the others.
When Festival Country Christopher Leadership Course instructor John Gefucia read Mark McCue’s letter in the Toronto Star, he immediately recalled his own experiences.
