As a freshman (“firstyear” in today’s vernacular) at Bowdoin College in the fall of 1960, I had to take a speech class. It was horrible. When I got on stage at Pickard Theater to give my “speech,” I forgot the words, told a joke and sat down. The students laughed; the professor did not.

That nightmare recalled my early years in West Virginia and Delaware. I would sit in the back of every class, hated being noticed and dreaded being called upon. To make matters worse, I sometimes turned bright red, much to the delight of the other students.

I developed some stage presence at Bowdoin after I was elected president of my fraternity, but my very first class at Harvard Business School set me back. Every student in the class of 100 students had name placards in front of them, the professor called on me in the first five minutes. Ouch. There went my confidence along with my willingness to speak out in that class or any other class for the next two years.

Times changed. Or, rather, I changed. As an admissions officer at Bowdoin and Ohio Wesleyan — and later as a communications professional — I often had to speak at schools, colleges, conferences and workshops. The more I spoke, the more confident I got, and the more confident I got the more I wanted to do it. The spotlight, I found, has its plusses.

Today I sit near the front of every class, lecture or seminar. During the Q & A period, I often ask questions or make comments. On family occasions — weddings, graduations, birthdays, funerals, whatever — I’m known to add a few words. I no longer feel the need to hide my light under a bushel. My good wife Tina sometimes kids me about being so out there. Perhaps I’m compensating for my early years. So be it.

I wish I’d gained the confidence to speak in front of audiences at a much younger age. By the way, I’m not alone in my innate fear of public speaking; studies reveal that public speaking is the second most common fear of adults, right behind flying in an airplane.

I hope that today’s children and teens get ample chances to speak in front of other people in school or at home. To that end, I think that high schools and colleges should either require classes in public speaking or ensure that most courses incorporate oral presentations. That said, speech courses must be effective or they can backfire. The Bowdoin “speech course” was, by any measure for any student, a total disaster.

Happily, my two sons and two stepsons attended a fine day school in Baltimore where all students had to make regular presentations. Moreover, every single senior had to make a speech at the all-school assembly. Today, my sons and stepsons often tap their speaking skills in their careers.

The ability to articulate one’s thoughts in public pays off in most careers and almost every life. My brother in-law, for example, was so terrified about giving a toast at his daughter’s wedding that my sister had to write the words on a napkin for him to read. I felt his pain.

You have to have something worth saying to be able to write well. If not, why bother? By the same token you have to have something worth saying to be able to speak well. In that movie classic, “Planes, Trains and Automobiles,” starring Steve Martin and John Candy, the Steve Martin character gets fed up with the John Candy character, a bloviating windbag. “Have a point!” he shouts, “It’s so much nicer for the listener when you have a point!”

My mother put it more nicely, “Blessed are they who have nothing to say and cannot be persuaded to say it.”

Fair enough, but in the ideal world everyone who does have something to say out loud in public should have the confidence and courage to do so.

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David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary as well as suggestions for future columns. dtreadw575@aol.com