Of Confrontation and Graduations

"We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams." - Jeremy Irons


I have a very selective memory - for some reason I can remember all of the words to "That's How I Beat Shaq" by Aaron Carter (a song I haven't listened to since sixth grade) but I often have trouble remembering what I told a friend last week (which results in me retelling stories more often than I'd like). Therefore, my favorite memory isn't one from long ago (because I honestly can't remember that much); it's one from last year.


More specifically, May 29th, 2010, my high school graduation. I was nervous as heck and so so excited. See, not only was I graduating, I was also giving a speech at the event because I was second in my class. 


And here's a secret: I'm deathly afraid of speaking in public. 


There's something about having other people pay attention to me and me alone that terrifies me. I'm generally bad at speaking up in discussion-based classes because I don't like having that attention on me. Something about the whole situation of even performing a monologue from Hamlet to my English teacher alone while not even having to look at her that made me sweat and shake.


So, as honored as I was to speak at the graduation, I was also nervous. Because we had roughly 300 people in our graduating class, and by adding 2 family members to each kid graduating, you had nearly 900 people in the audience. Not to mention siblings, grandparents, other relatives, etc. That was, as my principal estimated, 1500 people AT LEAST in the audience, which further added to my anxiety.


Luckily, I have awesome friends that were giving me pep talks, hugs, and other forms of general encouragement. As we were waiting backstage, I was trying not to pass out. This was so terrifying. And then, when the procession walked out, I saw how many people were in the audience, definitely not helping matters. 


And then, after speeches from my principal, a song from the band, and a few introductions, my name was called.


That moment of panic was like nothing I've experienced before. I stood up, walking up to the stage (pleasedonttrip, pleasedonttrip) and successfully made it to the podium, where the principal handed the stand to me.


And then I was up.


Looking out into the audience, I tried to focus on my few friends in the audience, but it was difficult because there was just a green mass of robes in front of me. 


"Hello," I said, and when the audience responded "Hi," I said "Hi" back and then instantly wanted to shut up and leave the stage, because I had so clearly messed it up. Knowing that I couldn't do that, I continued. I gripped the sides of the podium and started speaking, trying to sound as natural as I could. My voice was quivering, I could hear it, but I kept powering through. Suddenly, the audience didn't seem like some scary monster anymore - it was just a group of people, listening to what I had to say. I was doing well, plugging along, and then I felt a lump in my throat. 


Oh no. Oh no, no, no. 


I was crying, right in the middle of telling everyone how happy I was to know them. I was tearing up, and I felt like I had definitely screwed up.


And then my class started applauding. They shouted words of encouragement, telling me I could do it, I could finish. 


And I did. I finished, pushing through and receiving a standing ovation. I was so proud of myself for finishing, for confronting one of my biggest fears head-on with the support of my class. And as I walked off-stage, I got a hug from one of my good friends, which was luckily caught on camera so that I can remember this moment. I can remember this entire moment.


Because, did I mention? They also streamed it online and now its there FOREVER.


But this was my favorite moment. Because I confronted my fear, graduated from high school, and moved one step closer towards reaching my dreams. 


Until next week, best wishes!
Taylor


P.S. For posterity, I've delved into the deep, dark recesses of my email and copypasta'd my speech so that I may never lose it!

"Hello.

I'd like to start off by saying that I'm extremely proud and honored 
to be speaking at our commencement ceremony.

There’s a book by Robert Fulghum entitled “All I Ever Really Needed 
to Know I Learned in Kindergarten”, and to a certain extent, I 
believe he’s right. In Kindergarten, we learned not to take things 
that aren’t ours and to say sorry when we hurt somebody.

We learned that warm cookies and milk are good for us, and we learned 
to take a nap every afternoon.

We learned that sharing is caring, and when crossing the street, hold 
hands and stick together.

We learned some and thought some and drew and painted and sang and 
danced and played and worked some every day.

We learned about the Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation, 
ecology and politics and sane living.

These lessons we learned – and that some of us forgot – could 
answer some of life’s most challenging questions.

What more could we accomplish if everyone had to take a nap at 3 o’clock?

What if there was a worldwide policy to clean up our own messes and 
put things back where we found them?

Learning doesn’t stop at primary education – we learn every day 
we’re alive. Certain lessons are unique to high school; for example, 
where else would we have learned that hydrochloric acid permanently 
scars skin? (I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize to Andrew 
Glauvitz for being the unfortunate victim in this particular scenario, 
but on the plus side, he’ll never forget me.)

We learned how to be ourselves. Some of us knew who we were before we 
entered high school, some of us found ourselves during the last four 
years, and some of us are still trying to figure out who we are.

We learned that high school isn’t nearly half as bad as movies and 
television make it out to seem. We also became aware that there are no 
song and dance routines in the Commons relating to overcoming the 
status quo and how we're all in this together. Sorry to those of you 
who were disappointed. And fortunately for you guys, I won't be 
singing a song.

And finally, we learned not to judge a book by its cover – both 
literally and figuratively.

Before I conclude this speech, I have to thank a few people. Thank you 
to the people who raised us; without you, there’s no way we’d be 
who we are today. Whether we were raised by our parents, guardians, 
grandparents, aunts, uncles, aliens, or wolves, we are who we are 
thanks to them.

I’d also like to extend a thank you to not only FHS’s staff, 
faculty, and administration, but to those who have been a part of our 
lives – whether it is teachers or youth pastors, mentors or tutors 
– because they have also shaped us into who we are today. With their 
infinite wisdom, they have managed to shape us all from innocent, 
bright-eyed children to the mature and intelligent people we are today.

Last, but certainly not least, I'd like to extend a thank you to all 
of my fellow graduates and fellow Falcons that have come to celebrate 
this momentous occasion. You have all impacted my life in some way and 
I'm so glad to have gotten to know you over the past years. As we go 
off into the world looking for knowledge and new experiences, I know 
that we will do great things. Thank you all so much - I'm extremely 
proud to count you all as part of the official Falcon wolf pack.

There’s a song called ‘Four Years’ by Jon McLaughlin, and in it, 
he says that while we may come from different social circles, 
when our hats are off in the air (figuratively, of course), nobody’s gonna care. 

This is true. 
Whether you’re a jock, cheerleader, Knowledge Bowl member, or 
keyboardist; whether you’ve been labeled a drama queen, drama geek, 
or one of those “smart kids”, it doesn’t matter. Today, we are 
graduates of Falcon High School. I’d like to say congratulations to 
all of us – we’ve earned it!"