Finding My Voice

I never liked my voice. 

Photo by Brad Neathery on Unsplash

As a late-developing teenager, I was the last lad in my year group at school whose voice ‘broke’. I can still hear the calls and laughter echoing down the corridor as the other lads would call out “Niall… Niall…” in high-pitched, squeaky voices. Even as I write this, my ears and cheeks burn at the memory. 

Ironic then that I went into school drama productions, sang in the school choir, joined a local Am Dram group and, when my voice eventually broke to a light tenor, went on to study and qualify with a diploma in Drama and the Spoken Word at college in Edinburgh. 

But I still didn’t like my voice. 

It did change tho’. At drama college, we were advised to lose our regional (Scottish) accents if we ever hoped to work professionally South of the border. Which is why those of you I have met or spoken with in any social or professional capacity over the last forty years will have detected a cadence, a rhythm, a quality to my voice which betrays my Paisley upbringing. 

Fast forward through twelve years as a professional actor, ten years as an IT Trainer, a further eighteen years managing IT and L&D Teams and another nearly ten years in freelance and employed L&D consultancy, oft times speaking and chairing at LPI, CIPD and Learning Technologies conferences and events. 

In short, I’ve earned my entire living and built my professional network, using the voice that I had grown up so disliking. 

But I also developed another voice; that of a contributor to professional debate and discussion about L&D, OD and HR on social media. I posted on Twitter, facebook, LinkedIn and I started writing and posting blogs (niallgavinuk.blogspot.com). I found I could express myself a little better, maybe even a little more impactfully, in writing and live streaming tweetchats. 

But recently, I lost that part of my voice again. Covid, and how it was being handled nationally, ultimately silenced me in that space. I had started posting politically and angrily. I had gone ‘off piste’. And it wasn’t serving me or those with whom I had built up a following on SoMe. 

So I stopped blogging. I stepped back from Twitter. I rarely showed up on LinkedIn. I felt I had nothing new to add to the professional conversation that wasn’t already being said - and said better - by others.  And I got out of the habit. 

By this time, I was working at the CIPD (the UK Chartered Institute of Personnel and Development), as a part-time Commercial Learning Consultant, starting during the first week of the first UK lockdown. I’d never worked for a membership organisation - indeed, any organisation - with such a large professional reach, and with such a loud and confident voice of its own. As the professional body for ‘the people profession’, it punches above its weight and has many internal, external, international - and vocal - champions. I’ve been a member for years.

So I didn’t feel the need to add to their stakeholder messaging - certainly not as an independent voice -  and certainly not when there were so many other influencers and leaders already amplifying their voice so effectively. 

So why this blog now? “Does this need to be said? Does it need to be said by me? Does it need to be said by me right now?” (Attrib: Craig Ferguson) 

Well, as of the end of April, and after four years of late-career flexible working, CIPD and I amicably parted company and I've been taking the time to settle and reflect on things. Several themes have emerged for me, the first being how to find my voice again after a three year period of virtual social media silence. I’ve done a couple of update posts on LinkedIn and on facebook and this blog is my first since 21st May 2021! Others are in the pipeline, depending on how this one lands. 

Early days, but I think I’m starting to find my voice again.