but they did the job just as well as—if not better than—the brand name products.
Marc went on to prove that the paint used to decorate china plates and to label food wrappers often contained harmful amounts of lead. Food was exposed to this lead when the plates were scratched by cutlery or when it came in contact with the outside of the wrappers. As a result of his commitment, including the many speeches he gave, petitions he initiated and the environmental clubs he helped to set up in schools, Marc won an environmental award from YTV, Canada’s Youth Television Network, and he became the youngest person ever to receive the Ontario Citizenship Award.
I think it was from watching my brother’s involvement in environmental issues that I realized children have power. And to this day, my mother tells me that she would watch me as I listened to my brother practising his speeches, mimicking his words and expressions as I followed him, the whole time using my hands as if I were conducting an orchestra.
Sometimes when Marc was visiting high schools to get names on a petition, he would invite me along. Handing me a petition sheet and a pen, he would explain what it was all about. “Just go up to people,” he would say, “and speak slowly and clearly.” It was my first taste of activism. I was only seven years old. The high school students towering over me thought I was so cute that they didn’t hesitate to sign the petition.
It helped that I had a bit of a speech problem. When I went up to the first group of high school girls and rattled off the lines Marc had taught me, I caused a sensation. “Oh, come and hear the way this kid talks. He’s so cute!”
Soon there was a crowd of students gathered around to hear me speak. That day I collected more names on the petition than all of Marc’s friends put together.
“Someday I will give speeches,” I would tell my mother.
“Don’t worry,” she would say. “You don’t have to give speeches if you don’t want to. You could be good in something else.”
My speech problem was caused by chronic ear infections. These infections, and the ailments related to them, were a part of my childhood I had learned to live with. A loud cough caused by bronchitis made me sound like a truck (to use my father’s constant expression). I remember one schoolteacher getting angry with me because she thought I was trying to disrupt the class.
“Craig,” she would say, “please don’t do that! The other students are trying to study.” I could never figure out why she thought anyone would make such a noise on purpose.
Because I wasn’t hearing certain words or letter sounds correctly, my speech was sometimes slurred. Or I would drop letters, or mispronounce rs or certain vowels. Once a week my mother took me to the hospital for a session with a speech therapist. At first I saw no need of it. I thought I could go through life without using rs. But in the end, I took the therapist’s advice and started to really concentrate on the program, including a daily session of practising a list of words with my mother in the car on the way to school. Before long, things were improving.
When I was ten years old, all of my speech problems disappeared. The ear infections that had plagued me for so long had stopped. One day my mother said to me, “You know, Craig, you are saying all your words clearly now.” What a great feeling!
Now I could have fun in our backyard pool without the earplugs and the dreaded swim cap covering my ears. The week-long camping trips I would take with my scout troop became less of a worry for my mother.Those camping trips were one of the highlights of each year for me. I loved getting away from it all.
Some of my best scouting memories are the canoeing excursions we would take to Algonquin Park or Georgian Bay. Paddling and portaging through uninhabited country, through rain or shine, until, at the end of the day, we reached a spot to pitch our tents. As pack leader, I would be the one to organize setting up the tent and cooking the meal that followed. Macaroni and cheese was our specialty. In fact, we practically lived on the stuff.
After a long day of canoeing, there is nothing quite like sitting around a fire, devouring the evening meal, and then later, as it grows dark, watching the stars come out and listening for the sounds of nature far away from the commotion of city life.
The following spring, after my speech problems had cleared up, I found out about a public speaking competition in our community. I was immediately interested, but I had little time to prepare, and it would be my first speech.
“You can’t expect to win,” my mother cautioned. “You will be a winner just for trying.”
And so we decided the speech would be about “What It Means to Be a Winner.”
The night before the competition, I had a coughing attack. My mother stayed up with me, feeding me hot tea and cough syrup. In the morning, my mother said that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for me to participate in the competition.
“No,” I said. “I’ll be fine. I want to go.”
I spent the morning sitting up in bed learning my speech. But I still wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t seem to remember the words.
“Just do your best,” my mother said to me. “That’s all that matters.”
When my name was called, I stood up and walked to the podium at the front of the room. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. I looked at all the eyes staring at me. Suddenly I couldn’t remember a word of what I had practised. And, unlike the other speakers, I didn’t have any cue cards to refer to.
So I began to speak from my heart about the things I had learned about “winning.” I spoke about sports coaches who scream at children and make them cry when they make a mistake. I told them about a note my mother had written to me when I lost a science fair competition, which said I was still a winner to her. The more I talked, the more my confidence rose. I found my voice getting stronger and my hands come alive. I concluded by stressing the importance of fighting for the things we believe in, even when there are obstacles put in our way. That was what winning was all about.
I could hardly believe the applause as I returned to my seat. My mother gave me a hug. The previous year’s provincial winner spoke next. She was poised and articulate. You could tell she had a lot of experience. I thought she was clearly the best speaker of the group.
The judges returned half an hour later. They reminded the speakers that we were all winners, making reference to what I had said in my speech. They began by announcing the third-place winner. Then in second place they named the girl who had won the provincial competition the year before. I was completely stunned. I had won the gold medal!
I learned something very important the day of my first public speech. There was no doubt that the girl who placed second gave a more articulate speech. I had won because I had spoken not from words on a piece of paper, but from my heart. It was a lesson I would never forget.
I had an entire week to practise my speech before the next competition. Over the following two months, I won first place at the next four levels and ended up second in the province. That fall I represented my school at regional and school board-wide competitions and again won the gold medal for our school. My brother started to kid me that public speaking was in my blood.
I was now twelve years old and in Grade 7. Boy Scouts remained a major part of my life, but I had also taken up tae kwon do. I continued my extracurricular activities at school, including teaching soccer to some of the younger students. On Sundays I went to church, and played floor hockey with the neighbourhood kids in the afternoon. I still found time now and then to read a good book.
One day, I heard from a friend that the local library was being closed down, because the city councillors had decided it was too expensive to run. There was a meeting called to discuss the matter, so a few of my friends and I decided to attend. We sat at the back and listened to the adults make their comments. When it came time for questions, again it was only adults speaking.
I raised my hand. I stood up and talked about the importance of the library to young people, how they depended on it for their research papers and science projects. I talked about how far away the other