Tom Whitehurst

Sunday, December 17, 2000

Louise Wasson is a motivational speaker, a career to which many of us might aspire.
  Motivational speaking can be lucrative. Experienced ones can make $2,000 to $15,000 for a speech that might last an hour, says Bobbi Sims, a local motivational speaker.
  And that's if they're not some famous former athlete or Cabinet member. Then you're talking serious dinero.
  While that may sound like ample motivation to become a motivational speaker, it doesn't take into account the preparation involved. Take Louise's case, for instance.
  Six years, $250,000
  Her new career has come at a great cost - about $250,000 and six years of her life, so far, by her reckoning. And those costs don't take into account the personal sacrifices made by her sister, who forsook a successful advertising career in another state to be by Louise's side; her parents, who have remodeled their house to accommodate her and who provide intensive personal assistance to this 40-year-old daughter living at home; and friends who also have invested countless hours.
  Also, her audiences aren't always the most savory. Often they're prison inmates and juvenile offenders.
  Her previous career, as an Internal Revenue Service collector in Corpus Christi, wouldn't have made her rich but it was going well. Truth is, she'd like to have it back.
  Limited options
  But no her career options are limited. She has turned to motivational speaking because there's not much else available to her. She had done precious little in the way of gainful employment from June 18, 1994, until 1997, when she started her speaking career.
  The interruption was caused by a drunk driver, who drove a van into the driver's side of her Toyota Corolla, providing her with the subject material for a new career.
  The first two months after the crash, she was in a coma. Emergence from that coma was not like Snow White's or Sleeping Beauty's. She awoke in increments, to pain, confusion and the frustration of total dependence.
  An 18-minute videotape captures much of that, though the filming occurred four months after she awoke. The tape's original purpose was as potential evidence if she were to sue the driver for liability, but he didn't have insurance or assets sufficient to go to the trouble.
  So, she uses the tape in her presentations, thus establishing herself as not just a speaker but a multimedia lecturer.
  The tape begins with footage of her not long before the crash. People often tell her that Louise - before reminds them of Janeane Garafolo - witty, self-assured, sharply intelligent, her guard up - only blonde, prettier, not so mean-spirited. Then there's a brief dead spot, followed by Louise- after, on a hospital bed, wailing, her arms and legs crinkled in an awkward fetal crouch.
  Jack Lemmon playing ALS, or Leonardo DiCaprio, Juliette Lewis and Giovanni Ribisi playing mentally challenged, are no match for authentic Louise. Her wails are incoherent, with no soundtrack softening or idealizing the show. Physical therapists try to straighten her knee, telling her that she wants to walk again, doesn't she? Aside from the anguish, her response is hard to decipher.
  Then it's time to spoon-feed her. She protests, open-mouthed. A spoonful of yogurt is shoved in her mouth, painted inside her lips in agonizing real-time slow motion lasting about 37 seconds. She lets it remain there in see-food indifference as the therapists cajole her to swallow. All told, a minute and a half for one spoonful. Torture for Louise, and for the viewer. The same exercise, with a healthy 1-year-old, minus the wailing would be cute.
  During appearances, Louise makes comments during the tape, to lighten the mood. She tells her story, underscoring the real-life consequences of drunken driving. And she leaves time for questions.
  Young children sometimes ask: Did it hurt? Juvenile offenders often ask: Did you party? Prison inmates ask for the identity of the driver, so that they might dispense their own brand of justice.
  Yes, it continues to hurt. She walks now, with the aid of a walker. Her ability to maintain focus is limited. Her voice is a bit raspy and she can't talk for long periods.
  Yes, she did her share of partying. She, like everyone except Mother Theresa and all candidates for political office, had taken the wheel under the influence. But her practice was to use cabs - often enough that cabbies were among her loyal visitors after the accident. And she was sober on the night of the accident.
  No, she didn't identify who did this to her.
  The bottom line
  Her job satisfaction is that she has one, and that it might save someone else her anguish.
  That's motivation enough for her to become a motivational speaker.
  Pay isn't a motivation because there is none, except for occasional mileage reimbursement.
  Which brings us back to the bottom line. Accepted accouning principles say that Louise Wasson's current career doesn't add up.
  Her point, exactly.
  

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