It may not be a standing O, but if you can put an expression like this on your audience's faces, then you've still killed it. (Source)
A mic drop can look pretty cool if you know how to do them, but here's the thing: you've got to earn it. You can't just give a lame speech and expect a standing ovation just because you end your speech with a carefully choreographed drop-of-the-mic.
Actually, we don't suggest the literal mic drop unless you're a comedian, a rapper, or the President of the United States. For everyone else, we suggest you craft a stylish conclusion that acts as the verbal equivalent of a mic drop.
Your conclusion is nearly as important as your introduction, because it's the last thing people will hear, and therefore the thing they'll remember the most about your speech. So why not leave your audience will a powerful idea that'll stick in their heads—and maybe even make them think?
That's what this lesson is all about. Just like we did with introductions, we'll start by covering a few conclusion basics, look at some stellar examples, and check in with Sally to see how she crafts her conclusion.
THAT'S A WRAP
First things first when it comes to what comes last: your conclusion should begin with language that clues the audience in to the fact that you're wrapping up.
Just like when stating your main idea during your introduction, there's no need to go subtle in your conclusion. You don't want to just hope your audience gets that you're wrapping up—you want them to know. Make sure they do by using explicit wrapping-up-style language.
Here are a few totally non-subtle—and also totally acceptable—ways to begin your conclusion:
"And so, to wrap up…"
"I'd like to leave you with this idea…"
"In conclusion…"
Your conclusion should also be brief.
Imagine you're in the audience, and you hear the speaker say something like, "In conclusion…" The second you hear those words you know that soon you'll be able to stand up, stretch, and check your cell phones. And, if the speaker keeps blabbing on for another ten minutes, you'd start to get a little bit more than antsy. After about three of those minutes, you may stop listening altogether. After five minutes you may start hating the speaker. After seven minutes, you're actively imagining revenge scenarios.
In case it isn't clear—that isn't ideal.
When it comes to the actual content of your conclusion, it's an excellent strategy to circle back to your introduction. Do either of the following:
Restate the main idea. It's your last chance to drill the idea into your audience's head, after all, and restating the main idea takes on new meaning in the conclusion of a speech because of everything that came before it.
Mirror or reference your introduction. If you told a story in the introduction, find a way to refer to it again, but in a new way. If you asked a rhetorical question or cited a statistic, you could come back to those and show the audience how they now have a deeper understanding of it.
Along with repeating your main idea once more, a conclusion is the time to make your final appeal—it's when you'll ask your audience to do something, like take a specific action or to start thinking a certain way.
Since you're packing your brief introduction with a restatement of your main idea, a reference back to your introduction, and an appeal to your audience, it's not a good idea to cram in new information. You've had your chance for that—now's the time to let everything you've already said sink in.
Of course, it doesn't hurt to end on a powerful line—a really well crafted, linguistic marvel that'll leave your audience in awe of you and your message. (Source)
Now you know what a conclusion needs to do. Let's take a look at a few stellar examples—mic drops that have echoed through the ages, if you will.
We'll start with John F. Kennedy's 1961 Inaugural Address. This conclusion begins with one of the most famous lines from a speech, ever (JFK really knew how to save the best for last):
"And so, my fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world, ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own."
Pretty clear that JFK was making a strong appeal for action, right? He also circled back to the introduction through use of the concept and word freedom, which he hit on pretty hard in his intro.
Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech also begins and ends with the concept of freedom.You just re-read the introduction of this speech in the last lesson; now here's the conclusion:
"And when this happens, and when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Dr. King started his speech by pointing out that not all people in America are free. In his conclusion, he goes back to that idea of freedom, but on a hopeful—and incredibly powerful—note.
Finally, let's take a look at how Susan Cain concluded her speech on "The power of introverts." Open up the transcript of her talk and start reading at the 16:20 mark to the end of the transcript.
It's super easy to tell where Cain starts her conclusion, because she uses obvious language (you know, the kind we suggested):
"And so I am going to leave you with three calls for action…"
Can't you just see the audience perking up at this point? Maybe even preparing to take notes on what those three calls for action (a.k.a. appeals) are going to be?
At the 17:30 mark, Cain also refers back to the camping story she told at the very beginning of her speech by turning that "suitcase full of books" concept (which was a literal part of the camping story) into an effective metaphor.
While Cain's last line is no "free at last," (which is good, because that's been done and also probably wouldn't fit her topic so well) it is a very well crafted and powerful sentence to leave the audience with:
"So I wish you the best of all possible journeys and the courage to speak softly."
What's so great about that, you ask? It's all in the language. That phrase, "courage to speak softly" twists a familiar stereotype most of us have in our heads, of a lion-like courageous person. (Think Katy Perry's, "You're gonna hear me roar.")
Kennedy and King both went for the loud and powerful style of ending, but that wouldn't have fit the content of Cain's speech, so instead she went for quiet and powerful. Like, instead of dropping the mic, she very carefully and deliberately laid it down on the stage and then walked away in total silence.
Now let's see if Sally manages to come close to a conclusion as effective as any of these…
SALLY'S FINAL APPEAL
Sally's so close to finishing her speech. The last thing she'll do is craft her conclusion, which she wants to do two things:
Make a powerful final appeal.
Refer back to her introduction and main idea.
Here's Sally's speech in full, with introduction and conclusion. Read it and decide if her conclusion (which appears in bold) does what she wanted it to:
We all know the story by heart by now, don't we? The year old Joe Kincaid plowed up a bunch of his corn and planted a soccer field. He was so sure it would be a big success. That people from all over the county would come to watch the games. And we all know how that turned out, don't we? Nobody came, and it was two years before old Joe conceded defeat and turned his soccer field back into a cornfield. And it was another three years before he made a profit on that parcel of land, too.
I'm here today to sound the warning: this speaker idea will end up just like old Joe's soccer field. Installing speakers on Main Street is a bad idea that will cause more problems than it will solve. I'd like to share three problems that are most significant to me as a tax-paying resident of Summerfield.
You'll hear, from those in favor of installing these speakers, that doing the same thing has boosted business in Winterton. That's certainly an issue we should consider here in Summerfield. But it's only fair that we give equal weight to other issues, too.
First, I think broadcasting music along Winterton's Main Street disrupts the peace and feels tacky. Actually, no. It's not just me who thinks so. I spoke to fifteen Winterton residents, and nine of them—a majority—felt the same. It makes walking down the street feel like walking through a noisy strip mall—or a dentist's office.
The speakers have caused another unexpected problem in Winterton: they're expensive to maintain. Winterton has already spent five thousand dollars to repair speakers that were damaged. I read the police report about the incident. Turns out some teenagers didn't like the song that was playing, and took a baseball bat to three of the speakers. (By the way, the song was Daniel Powter's "Bad Day," which I think we all got sick of hearing ten years ago. Sounds like that really was a bad day, though.) But teenagers aren't the only thing that can cause damage. How much more money will Winterton spend to repair speakers damaged by storms or birds or impaired drivers—or who knows what else?
The speakers have also caused unnecessary problems between Winterton residents. I found twenty not-terribly-friendly letters to the editor in the Gazette that suggest residents are unhappy with the speakers because of the volume of the music and the choice of songs. I'm friends with the woman who owns Winterton's coffee shop, and she told me that two residents got into a very un-neighborly shouting match about the music in front of her shop one day. What effect do you think that had on her business? I'll tell you—it was the opposite of a boost.
I'd like to end today by asking all of you to join me in doing what old Joe Kincaid failed to do. Let's avoid making costly mistakes. Let's make sure this bad idea dies now, before it can cost us money, peace, and maybe even our good reputation. Let's stop these speakers from turning our lovely main drag into—well, just a drag.
Now that Sally's finished her speech, let's recap the steps she took to craft it from start to finish:
She began by drafting a messy version of her body paragraphs, making sure to include her main points and supporting evidence.
She then cleaned up those messy paragraphs. During this first revision, she focused on making the language simple and precise and added in some appropriate repetition.
She revised those cleaned-up paragraphs again, looking for spots where she could inject some cleverness and code words.
Once her main body paragraphs were all set, Sally wrote her introduction.
Sally finished up the speech by writing her conclusion.
Finally, she read the whole thing again to make sure it all fit together smoothly, making small edits here and there. (Just trust us—she totally did this.)
Notice how Sally didn't just write a full first draft, revise it once, and call it a day. It's much more effective to write a speech in steps, revising several times along the way with just one or two goals in mind during each revision.
One final piece of advice for Sally and for any public speaker: do that final read-through aloud. Reading in your head is just different than reading aloud—you'll catch more spots where you can simplify the language, add stylistic elements, or just correct mistakes that were hiding. Plus, it just makes sense to…you know…read aloud a piece of writing that's meant to be read aloud.
(That last sentence was brought to you by the Committee of the Obvious.)