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Persuasive Speech

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I was a very conceited third grader. All children have the tendency of overconfidence; I was no exception. But back in third grade, it was even worse.
If you could peer into my classroom of cramped desks and multiplication, you would see kids lined up against the tinted wall. The classroom spelling bee was about to begin. Everyone else were ready to speak, their words choppy and uneven, into a microphone. However, what they don’t know is their impending failure. The fact is that I am a champion, my stance screams hit me with these words. And they? They know nothing.
Letter and letter arrives and each student is sent to their seat. With no surprise to anyone, I secure my win. My teacher scurries over to me.
“Geneva, congratulations!” She hands over a sheet of words long enough to reach to my teacher’s feet. Or at least, that’s how it is in my head.
“These are to help you prepare for the school-wide competition. You will be one of the third graders representing our class in about a month!”
The paper feels thin in my hand as I scan the list. Ha, nothing. Nothing to a champion, anyhow.
After that day, I glance over the list. Once. Another hour passes, a day, a week, another week, and suddenly the day is here, and all I’ve done is glance at a paper.
The one emotion that was expected not to appear strikes my chest like an angry case of heart failure. My tiny, chubby, and near sighted body cannot comprehend that fiasco that is happening.
Regardless of how I feel, my entire school shuffles into the compressed gym. A stench of styrofoam that has come from years of sweaty kids remains strong but there is one detail that catches me off guard.
When looking across, I realize that all competitors are allowed to sit on the benches laid out for us. And the childr- peasants will sit on the ground. These peasants are forced into bent uniform lines, unfocused and bored, sitting criss cross applesauce and tapping their Barbie feet against the plastic floor in an attempt to save them from going numb. My confidence, as high as a king’s, rises; and then is shot down with a new simple understanding.
The bench line begins from youngest to oldest, meaning that I am second in line to speak. I’m not second in line for the

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