Silver Currents of Change

Chapter 24

Monday morning, the first day of the conference, Zarah had to force herself to stop biting her nails, even though she was feeling good about her outfit. It was the idea of speaking in front of a room full of PhDs and publishing professionals that had her nerves frayed. She was happy with how she looked. Yvette helped her select a short and sleek charcoal gray sheath dress she said was designed to "inspire confidence." Made of lightweight, figure-hugging polyester, rayon, and spandex, it had a tiny, silver patent belt that cinched her waist, and a matching tailored gray jacket. The day they got it at Neiman Marcus, Yvette teased, saying the fit and the color was picture-perfect for "Silver."

That was day she decided to show her friend she was way over childhood teasing. "Right," she said. "Silver is the second most prized element in space. Did you know it was once considered to be more valuable than gold? Look it up. So. Go ahead. Call me 'Silver,' knot head, any time."

Thirty minutes later, she found herself wishing she could channel some of the same bravado she'd used on Yvette, because fear had flooded into her soul. Hard. Riding in a chauffeur-driven limo on the way to the conference hotel, she knew her boss sensed her fear because empathy was all she saw in his eyes every time he glanced at her. He understood what she was feeling and she knew it, even before he said it.

"Zarah."

She was glad when he finally spoke.

"I need you to help me understand something. After spending ... years ... performing in front of thousands of folk in a stadium that's the second largest city in the state on game day, and after spending just as many years handling tough questions, week after week as host of your own radio talk show, how is it that presenting a paper is making you nervous?"

"That's easy," she said, looking away from him. "Performing in front of thousands of people I know I will never see close up, at least not all at once, it's different from standing in front of a room full of folk who are close by. People who aren't a group of high school students. These people will be judging my work, they'll be able to see how scared I am, and they might ask me a question I don't know how to answer."

"Zarah. Look at me."

She did. She knew she'd been avoiding looking directly at him, because she couldn't believe how incredibly hot she thought he looked that day.

"You're strong. You know you can do this. And if it helps, just pretend you're in front of thousands. After you do that, just draw from the strength of all your experience."

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Several minutes later, she was watching Wilson Publishing's handsome and confident leader deliver a stellar keynote address to a crowd of more than two-thousand conference attendees. He didn't even use notes, his speech was great, and once he was done the audience gave him a standing ovation. After that, everything started moving in fast motion making her feel like even time was working against her. The keynote address was over, the attendees dispersed and everyone headed off to different meeting rooms for seminars, discussions, and presentations. Time was zooming by in fast motion and she still wasn't feeling one bit ready for what she had to do.

Two hours later, two hours that seemed to pass as quickly as fifteen minutes, Zarah heard her name being spoken by a tall, older white man in front of room full of college professors who were there for a session titled "Degree in Hand, What Next?" After being introduced, she stood up and started walking toward the front of the presentation room when she was pretty sure she stopped walking for a second. It hit her, hard. She was presenting the results of her research to a room filled with much older industry professionals and academic scholars. Her audience was more than two hundred seasoned practitioners and PhDs in journalism and communications, and she was eighteen years old. After saying, silently, "Thousands of people, draw on your experience," she took a deep breath, held her head up, and walked to the front of the room in her sky-high, silver Dolce Vita pumps.