Reflection Of A Speech At The Middles Of Speech

Heart racing, knees shaking, arms trembling; it was the first day of my sophomore year and I was about to enter my AP World History, class. My palms were sweaty; I didn’t know what to expect, but afterward, the teacher gave a brief overview of the course. He mentioned how it was rigorous and demanding course, and it would prepare us for college-level courses, such as developing our speaking skills and helping us receive college credits. We focused on teaching the class about the content, which was good opportunity to defeat my fear. At this point, I had to get over my fear of presenting in front of others, but the thought of it tortured me. All I could think of was my 10-year-old self speechlessly standing in front of many students with so

We had practiced every day from sunrise till sunset almost relentlessly. We wrapped up the week with a concert to perform our pieces that we had so strenuously prepared. The men’s chorus was to perform after the women and then the concert would be wrapped up by the mixed choir. After the women’s choir was done, my fellow men’s choir members and I entered onto the stage tensions higher than ever. Once we were all in our positions Dr. Johnson stepped onto the conducting platform and raised his hands to give us the cue. Just as we were all preparing ourselves he looked up and in a big southern grin mouthed the words “you guys got this, have fun”. I almost laughed out loud it was so out of character. Instantly my high nerves were gone and I was totally immersed in my surroundings. In that split second before Dr. Johnson threw his hands down I saw it. We were all here for one purpose. We were all here to better ourselves. All the pieces slid into place. We were like a beautiful mosaic, every piece connected, everybody was important. Than with a flourish of passion Dr. Johnson’s hands came down like a lightning bolt. The choir answered back with a roaring of thunder that made my hair stand up on the back of my neck. I could feel it. That feeling of overwhelming accomplishment rush through me and we were not even finished with the first phrase. Throughout the performance as we slid back and forth between raw intensity and soft serenity I started to sweat. The sweat overwhelmed me to the point that it was dripping off of my chin into my sheet of music blurring the notes and markings on the page. The sweat was not from me being nervous, but was from how hard I was pushing myself. It seems weird that standing in one place could make me sweat that much, but I think I hit the point in which the saying “push yourself to the limit” was actually

As I walked out of my dorm that morning for my 9am class, I checked my schedule to see where I needed to go. My first class was public speaking in room 232. My stomach instantly dropped. The calmness I once felt left my body in a rush. Public speaking was my worst fear. I stuttered and mumbled and shook each time I entered a crowded room. Speaking in front of a whole classroom has never been on my bucket list. I fretfully continued my journey to room 232. I attempted to give myself a pep talk along the way to help calm my nerves, but nothing was helping. I told myself that this was not

As we all headed outside to the football stadium, tension started to come through my whole body. My legs felt stiff and my hands felt as if water was running through my fingers. I was not prepared to walk across the stage. We practiced hundreds of times that morning but, it was just too hot to concentrate on what we were told to be doing. So much was going through my mind like, “What if I trip as I walk across the stage?” “Who all from my family is here?” “What am I going to eat afterwards?” I was starving because I had not eaten since 8:00 that morning. I stepped a foot onto the track circle and images went through my mind. Drops of sweat ran down my face and I tried not to look at the audience to keep myself from getting more nervous. As we stepped

“Wyandotte High School,” Mrs. Marilyn said. We were next. My anxiety screaming “you have to get up and do stuff or you’ll fail in life.” I got up from my seat and headed to the stage. My heart was racing loudly that I was afraid that everyone would hear it. My hands dripped with sweat. I kept taking deep breaths to calm myself. I felt the spotlight following my every move.

My foot caught on the strap of a bookbag on the floor. My knees gave out and I tried to brace myself for colliding with the floor. My binders, textbooks, and papers were all flung out of my arms and scattered across the classroom. I curled up in a ball and buried my face into my knees as I felt it turning bright red. The whole class must have been looking at me. I could imagine 30 pairs of eyes staring into my soul and seeing all of the atrocities it held. No one had to tell them how pathetic I was; the sight of me attempting to hide my limbs in my hoodie was quite enough.

Well, the speech was really fun to prepare for it, even though the grade is not what I expected. It pretty awesome too when giving the speech because I can see the audiences inner desire. And their laugh and some smile, it shows it all. I got their attention when I first open up the slide because that was the moment when our generation mostly looking for. And that was love, but that not what they expected. I was laughing inside because of that. While giving the speech, I notice I made too many mistakes and know what my weakness, strength is. I can see my strength in organizing my speech with the step of Monroe’s Motivated Sequence because of that my speech went a lot smoother. In addition to that, I was able to get my points across the audience. The thesis of my topic was easily understood by the audience because my earlier slide about finding love caught their attention. That was brilliant, but I can see that my transition is not smooth on every slide. And that is my weakness I have to work on. It's still not as bad as my communication because I know that I’m quadruple-lingual. That make it really hard for me to speaking

I reached the entrance of the school and the surroundings felt different. The hallways were usually crowded, filled with students trying to get to the next class. The hectic hallways were hazardous, with heavyhearted . The receptionist in the office told me where my testing room was. My proctor took me to the third floor of the school and she gave me the test. I went through the reading and math portion in a hour, although I didn’t understand the math. I was told that I was doing the Writing on Monday. When I left the building, my mind and body felt as if someone emptied out my insides, but there was no pain, just emptiness. I wasn’t sad, just

About as nervous as I could be be, but trying to pretend to be like everybody else. They were just here because they had to be. Inside my heart was racing and my leg was shaking uncontrollably. Everytime my leg shook I could hear the crack of the old chair which increased my nerves. The teachers passed out programs for all of the awards. I quickly scanned for my name under all the awards. Then my heart stopped and I saw it 4.0 Award- Shea Keethler. I tried not let my face betray me and smile in front of my friends. I still did not know if I was going to get called up onto the stage in front of all of my peers and their parents. As I thought this to myself, I heard the principle announce “We will now be calling onto the stage the winners of the excellence award, this is earned for achieving a 4.0 GPA all three years of middle school.” As he read the short list of names, I heard my principle “Shea Keethler” as he proclaimed I felt the pride swell up inside or me. I got up and walked toward the stage. When they gave me my award I headed over to the rest of the winners and I looked out amongst the crowd. It seemed that the rows of my classmates and their families were more people than I imagined. It looked like there was no end to the rows of people. I walked back to my seat ecstatic and all my friends congratulated

As I entered the room I felt a cold chill; my whole body began to shake. As I stood up,  I felt like running out of the room. Something stopped me from running away from my performance. Of course I did not want to let my team down. It was me recalling the first time I sang to Mr. Blanton. He had spoken to me and said “ You are too shy, it’s going to be difficult to work with you as a vocalist. If this is what you want to do you need to step  up your game”. That stuck with me for a while, because I tried so hard to be confident and  to lose my stage fright. Before I could even think  of putting positive thoughts in my head, I heard my teacher announcing that my group was about to perform.

I unbuckled my car seat and leaned forward to see my mother’s tear stricken face. I had never seen my mother cry with such sincerity. Her mascara streaking down her cheeks, creating canals of charcoal grime that tarnished her otherwise flawless face. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat as she attempted to talk through another sob. The sight of her pulled me back to only minutes earlier when

The saddest moment was when I saw Yanell and Yesenia's tears falling from their eyes while they were trying to understand why some students did not follow the rules and smoked and ate inside the library. It was sad to realize that our classmates did not think in the consequences of their actions and how those actions could affect our class and the concert, for the one we worked so hard. They did not think in how hard we worked and the effort every student put into our dance to make Ms. Torres, Yanell, Yessenia, families, and friends feel proud of us. It was sad to see that after we have been together for one year as class, there are students who do not care what happen with our dance and the

I know it isn’t appropriate to discuss so openly in front of the rest of my class, my emotional issues but a part of me, a part of me wants to and a part of me feels like I need to speak. I need to speak, for I am afraid, I am afraid that if I do not speak, I may crumble and I am afraid that I may not have this opportunity again. So I begin speaking.

For the sake of my sanity, I envisioned potential scenarios where I’d come out of this situation stable. At one point I believed only deep breathing ought to relieve my tension; how naïve I was toward my condition was incomprehensible. I replayed the entire ordeal infinite times in my head, still at a loss of its initial cause.

It was a brisk cold day in the early October. Today is a day I have been dreading since the last month. It was the season opener for the Illinois circuit of Debate. Teams from all over Illinois are coming to Schaumburg high school to compete and claim victory in two events of debate. I was one of the few competitors who are competing instead of helping the coaches run the tournament. It was 8:00 A.M. in the morning and it was time for my first round of debate ever. I felt so uncomfortable in my suit, I fear was engulfing me into it. I was very nervous and couldn't move from where I was standing. I could hear the crowd of people and the sound of embarrassment filling my head. I was waiting for the schematics to be placed on the wall so all the