Let me just start by saying that the self-reflection isn't strong in this one. For those of you who watched my TED Talk, you know that it isn't exactly my favorite thing. In fact, it's on my Top Ten Things I Strongly Dislike. (Notice that I don't use the word "hate" because, like an old teacher of mine used to say, hate is a very strong word, and so should be used sparingly.) I mean, self-reflection is number three on the list. So coming up with an overarching message felt like diving into a bowl of that really gross Easy-Mac Mac and Cheese Cups my brother loves, and attempting to not drown in all that cheesiness.
It made me think of the millions of PSSA practice essays we're forced to write, specifically the personal narrative ones. Stuff like, "Describe a time when an adult figure in your life taught you something." I'd sit at my desk, eyebrows furrowed, and think something stupid like, "Um, I guess I can write about the time my grandmother taught me how to count to 100?" Yup, I actually wrote an essay about that. It was rubbish, and I'm sad to say my self-reflection skills haven't improved much. Sometimes I still have nightmares about that narrative essay at the beginning of the year. (Sorry Mr. Perlman.) For some reason they've always been one of my archenemies. They always come out sounding like they were taken straight from the mouth of one of those overly-cheery, obviously fake, infomercials. And I always, always, strongly dislike whatever end product I come up with when it comes to personal narratives. However, I actually liked the script for this presentation a teeny bit. Just a little.
Which leads us into the actual presentation itself. More self-reflection. Whoop dee do. Normally I wouldn't bother touching the memory of this TED Talk with a 10-foot pole, let alone reflecting on it, but, y'know, it's school. Am I stalling, even as I write this? 100% yes. (Why do you think I wrote such a long and unnecessary rant as my first two paragraphs?)
As evident by my Top 10 Things I Strongly Dislike list, I despise public speaking. Or like, speaking in general. The written word is way better than the spoken word. Sarah Anderson, my favorite webcomic artist, sums it up pretty well:
And that last panel? Yeah, that was totally me up on stage. At least, that's how I felt internally. I'm not sure how much that showed, though, so who knows? But, that anxiety wasn't exactly surprising. Public speaking is the number one fear in the world, after all. So yeah, I definitely stumbled and stuttered, and occasionally blanked on my script even though I knew it by heart. There's just something so scary about standing up there, knowing that people are listening, watching, judging, like hawks circling their prey. I would never expect any of my classmates to insult me or mock my onstage mess-ups, but just making the mistake in and of itself is humiliating enough. Nerves got the best of me, and so while it was a step up from my brain presentation, it wasn't exactly stellar.
But, see, I don't know if I'm the best person to give myself an assessment. I have pretty low self-confidence when it comes to public speaking, so even if I had nailed that presentation, I'd still say it was terrible. Which is kind of sucky. I'd love to say that I tried my best, practiced, worked hard, so therefore I'm happy with my presentation, only I'd be lying. For example, me forgetting my mobile down off-stage probably didn't make or break my grade or humiliate me, but I lowkey freaked out when I realized that I hadn't brought it up onstage with me. (On the bright side, though, I jumped off the stage and according to Peter that meant I broke the trend of cowardice or something.)
However, my whole message in that presentation was that you should do things for yourself, and I think that kind of applies here to. I'm pretty sure I wasn't that great of a presenter, but y'know, I got up there and talked for myself, to grow, to prove to myself that I could. I didn't do it for a great grade (as much as I want one) or to impress my teachers or classmates. Same with this project. Not all of it was sunshine and rainbows, but it was a really, really good experience and opportunity for growth. And I think all that learning and effort is certainly worth an A.
But, like, don't actually give me an A for the presentation, because I'm pretty sure that's more like a B.
(Okay that last sentence was a nice ending, but I just have to apologize for the sap bucket I just dumped on you, poor reader. I gagged a little just writing it.)
But, see, I don't know if I'm the best person to give myself an assessment. I have pretty low self-confidence when it comes to public speaking, so even if I had nailed that presentation, I'd still say it was terrible. Which is kind of sucky. I'd love to say that I tried my best, practiced, worked hard, so therefore I'm happy with my presentation, only I'd be lying. For example, me forgetting my mobile down off-stage probably didn't make or break my grade or humiliate me, but I lowkey freaked out when I realized that I hadn't brought it up onstage with me. (On the bright side, though, I jumped off the stage and according to Peter that meant I broke the trend of cowardice or something.)
However, my whole message in that presentation was that you should do things for yourself, and I think that kind of applies here to. I'm pretty sure I wasn't that great of a presenter, but y'know, I got up there and talked for myself, to grow, to prove to myself that I could. I didn't do it for a great grade (as much as I want one) or to impress my teachers or classmates. Same with this project. Not all of it was sunshine and rainbows, but it was a really, really good experience and opportunity for growth. And I think all that learning and effort is certainly worth an A.
But, like, don't actually give me an A for the presentation, because I'm pretty sure that's more like a B.
(Okay that last sentence was a nice ending, but I just have to apologize for the sap bucket I just dumped on you, poor reader. I gagged a little just writing it.)



























