in New York City, she headed to
Philadelphia for a round of radio and
magazine interviews—and a stage
presentation. “It had been a fantastic
day, and I had talked to a lot of people
who had used the idea,” she says. “The
room was filled to the brim, and when
I walked out there, I saw all of these
expectant faces. I put the speech away,
and for 40 minutes I spoke directly
from the heart. The minute I was
done, I knew it was the best speech I’d
ever given.”
cynics Anonymous
Tale End
Ironically, the “aha” moment of
Welch’s children escaping hula camp
had limited utility once she shared the
anecdote on TODAY and The View.
“People come to see you because
you’ve been on the national shows,
but they don’t want to hear the same
story again,” she says. “The audience
signaled to me that I needed to stop
telling it. People would start nodding
because they’d already heard it. “Of
course, sometimes I’d be on TV and
the interviewer would prompt me
to tell the story, ‘This all started in
Hawaii with your children…’ But I did
it reluctantly.”
Even without her signature story,
Welch could draw upon more than
enough fodder from her own life,
as well as stories from the book and
those she picked up along the way.
“The problem and the beauty of it
is that it’s not the same speech for
a group of entrepreneurs, working
moms, doctors or ministers,” she
says. “Each audience has different
sets of decisions and pressures. My
core message stays the same—living
deliberately and authentically, and
lowering chaos— but the stories that
you tell can’t be the same.”
Not surprisingly, 10-10-10 has
guided Welch toward balance during
the burst of publicity that follows
a best-selling book. “There’s a
simple logistical factor with having
four children and a husband, and
recognizing I can’t be in two places in
when welch describes “the hardest speech i ever gave,” it’s enough to make
any parent or child cringe. a few years before 10-10-10 came out, she was
invited to speak as a distinguished alumna at the boarding school where her
son was enrolled.
“You tell me if there’s a worse audience than 1,200 high school students who
are being forced to listen to you,” she says. “i also had this added burden of
possibly destroying my son’s life. he begged me not to give the speech.”
welch opened her presentation with guns blazing. “i immediately said, ‘i’m
not going to speak about roscoe,’ and then i asked him to stand up. and then
i said, ‘i’m not going to tell you my son is single, and that he would make the
greatest boyfriend for some nice girl in the audience.’”
with the ice broken, welch delivered a series of more serious messages
organized around things she wished she’d known when she was their age, with
the advantage of having once sat in the very same seats as her audience. “One
of the things i wanted to express is how they shouldn’t be so cynical about
true love, and that it’s Ok to like or love someone in high school—and how the
politically correct idea of ‘hooking up’ is so disgusting,” she says.
welch took a much bigger risk when delving into the importance of
sincerity—by breaking into song. “i told them i went through a long period
of being a cynical jackass just like all of them before learning that, like [pop
singer] Jewel says, ‘in the end, only kindness matters.’ i have a terrible voice, but
after i sang that line, there was a pause and the audience sang it back to me.”
The day, which could have ended in disaster, concluded with a raucous
standing ovation. More important to welch, it delivered two valuable
takeaways. first, she always incorporates singing for its show-stopping power.
“and it was also at that moment i learned a lesson that’s helped me as i’ve
gone on the book tour,” she says. “You need to be prepared. You need to
know in your bones what your audience cares about, what their pet peeves
are, and why they’re prepared to hate or love you.” She applies the same
principle whether she’s addressing working mothers or compensation experts,
spending advance time talking to the organizers, wallowing in their literature,
and chatting with a few audience members.
“i want to talk to them, not give a speech,” she says. “now my younger son is at
the same school, and he always asks, ‘You’re not going to speak at school are
you?’“But i think he secretly hopes i do.”
one time,” she says. “When I get an
offer to speak, I ask myself, ‘Is this in
my wheelhouse? Am I going to add
value?’ I like to give speeches where
I can learn something new, and I’m
always excited to hear the questions
people have about 10-10-10 and how
they apply it.”
Contributing writer Jake Poinier employed 10-10-10 the same day he started reading the book. (It worked like a charm.) He can
be reached at Jake@BoomvangCreative.com.
