High school had always seemed so distant to me. I watched my sister go through the stresses of 9th and 10th grade and figured I had plenty of time until my own demise in the high school hierarchy as a freshman. But before I knew it, 8th grade breezed by and high school was rapidly approaching.
Transition years have always been hard for me. From elementary school to middle school and then middle school to high school, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to shake the butterflies in my stomach or the tingles in my hands on the first day of class. But this year was different. I was no longer going to be a puny 8th grader, but an experienced high schooler who all the middle schoolers could look up to. I kept thinking to myself, how was I supposed to be a good role model for the middle schoolers if I myself didn’t know what was going on half the time? Because of the pandemic, the class of 2024 never got a proper transition into high school, supported by the then-9th graders. We were thrust into a world of assessments and deadlines without prior warning. Not only was this year a big one for me as a freshman but one faced with many irrational fears that had been exacerbated by staying cooped up in my home for so long.
At the start of the year, I had pushed myself to run for student council, something I hadn’t done in years because of my fear of public speaking, losing, and ultimately, embarrassing myself. This year, however, I told myself that simply trying would be enough, especially because election speeches took the form of video recordings. I thought taking risks and letting myself be known would be a good way to transition into high school life.
The next thing I knew, I had become the 9th-grade representative and was in a position I never actually thought imaginable. After a year of getting to know my fellow council members, it had come time for the elections again. Election day speeches were quickly approaching, and they were in person this time. I had decided once again to break out of my comfort zone and run for vice president. I realized how big a jump it was, but go big or go home, right? I had finished composing my speech and spent countless hours reciting it in front of the mirror and my family. The only thing left to do was wait and stress.
Election day came and coincidentally, it happened to be on the same day as an important math exam, adding a whole new layer of stress that consumed me for weeks. This was my chance to pull up my math grades, yet the world seemed to be against me. The night before the speech, my older sister fell from the middle school playground and almost broke her leg. Now the stress had been tripled and the expectations as well. I would need to ace my test, wow with my speech, and somehow fix my sister.
Needless to say, it was impossible for me to focus on the assessment. As soon as it finished, I burst out of the exam room and hurried to the gym where the speeches were being held. As I sat and watched the rest of the candidates go up to present their speech my worries about the test quickly melted away, replaced by a feeling of dread. I felt the sudden urge to bolt, forgetting all my ambitions of running for vice president. Suddenly, my name was called, and as I made my way to the stage with shaking hands, reality finally set in. I was going to run for VP. It was too late to back out now.
I got up in front of the podium and began to give my speech. My wobbling hands began to sweat, and my mind froze. An earthquake that only I seemed to feel rumbled through the gym, and I felt the familiar words get stuck in my throat as I clumsily corrected myself. And as soon as it began, it was over.
Afterward, I was so proud of myself for just standing up there and delivering my speech, I didn’t even mind if I didn’t get the position. Friends and teachers approached me throughout the day to compliment me, promising that my shaking and mishaps were unnoticeable.
In the end, I didn’t get vice president, but the experience itself was rewarding enough. I had overcome my fear, and though I know next year when I try again, I will feel the same sense of dread wash over me, I will be able to recognize that I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.
Many people have bigger fears than me, but I believe any action like mine – be it getting in front of a crowd and performing a speech or just trying something for the first time – is a big step in overcoming your fears. After all, our fears may never disappear, but we can always be proud that we’ve faced them. Like my favorite line in the Newsies musical says: “Courage does not erase our fears, courage is when we face our fears.”
This article appeared in the jingkids 2021 July-August issue
