Public Speaking

In preschool, my classmates and I had to do a dreadful presentation at the end of the year for everyone’s parents and family members. Of course, as a small child, learning the songs and dances was so much fun, but as soon as I got out onto that stage, the fun turned to terror. Needless to say, I sat in my chair and cried throughout the whole show due to my “stage fright”. Super embarrassing, I know. So, if someone had told me on that day that I would one day be giving a speech to my entire graduating class along with nearly 1,000 members of the community, I probably would have never even made it through high school at all.

It was an ordinary Friday at school. I was in my eighth period study hall, “studying” for the AP test, when I got called down to the office. My stomach instantly filled with butterflies because, naturally, I thought I was in trouble. I walked into the principal’s office and was informed that I was the salutatorian of my graduating class. With this came a wave of emotions, rewards and responsibilities. I was overjoyed; I would receive a 10,000-dollar scholarship for this accomplishment, and I would have to give a speech at graduation.

I could not wait to tell my parents. As soon as I got back to my study hall, I asked if I could step outside to call my mom. When I called her, she sounded confused and worried because I never called her during school. I told her the news and she started crying, as did I. I had worked so hard for this accomplishment and she could not have been prouder. When I got home, she gave me a big hug and told me how happy she was for me. When my dad got home, he did the same, which was clearly special because my dad is not a hugger. It felt incredible to make my parents so proud. It took a couple days for this excitement to wear off and for it to hit me that I would have to give a speech in front of nearly 1,000 people.

With the same fear that I had on that stage in preschool building up inside me, I began the writing process. I wanted to stay true to my sassy, sarcastic self, but I also wanted to let my classmates know that we could be the ones to change the world without being too cheesy. I knew what I generally wanted to say to my class, but I did not really know how to start. I was just an eighteen-year-old kid who was just now graduating high school. What advice did I have to give? What motivating, uplifting words did I have to pass on?

That was exactly it. What did I know? So that became the title of my speech: What Do I Know? Up until that point, I had learned everything that I knew from a select group of people. I started out my speech by thanking those people- my parents, my teachers, my friends and my classmates- for helping me get to the position that I was in. I then moved into the message that I wanted to pass on to my classmates. The message that the whole world can be changed if everyone can just make a difference to ten other people in their lifetime. I concluded by congratulating my classmates for making it to such a monumental milestone in our lives and wishing them the best for their futures. I had my dad read through it just as I had done with every essay I had ever written and I submitted it to be reviewed. 

Once the speech was written and approved, I had to practice in front of my junior year public speaking teacher. I then moved on to delivering it to her along with the school librarian who was in charge of graduation run-throughs. When graduation run-throughs finally started, I would have to stay after we had finished in order to rehearse along with the valedictorian and the class president. We spoke inside countless times, but we only spoke outside once and our audience was never bigger than five people. Outside, it was much more difficult because our voices would echo back to us. As we would be reading the next sentence, the previous one would be traveling around the stadium. I was hoping for rain on graduation day so that I could just deliver my speech inside with a smaller crowd, no echo and no wind. Of course, when the day finally came, I was not so lucky.

It was a beautiful day out, but it was a tad windy. I was trying to enjoy the day and celebrate with my friends, but I could not keep my mind off the fact that I would shortly be speaking in front of nearly 1,000 people. Before I knew it, it was time to take the long walk out to the football field. I took my seat and waited, hardly able to breathe. I do not even remember what my principal’s opening words were, but I remember him announcing my name. Knowing that I could not remain in my seat and cry, I took my place at the podium; with shaking hands, I opened the folder containing my speech and everyone went silent. I apparently delivered the whole speech flawlessly, despite the wind that was blowing my cap off my head, because I was escorted back to my seat by a roar of applause from the crowd. My dad asked me later how I thought I did, and I replied, “I don’t even remember giving it, I think I just blacked out for four minutes.”

Throughout the whole process of writing and delivering the speech, I realized that there was nothing to be nervous about all along. I was used to giving speeches about myself, my experiences, or topics I had researched, but this was the first speech I was giving in hopes to inspire the audience. Much like how Sandra Cisneros felt empowered after her dad finally read her writing, it was empowering to learn that my words, the words of “just some 18-year-old girl,” could actually have an impact on people. There were sermons based on the message in my speech in churches all over my town the following Sunday. People still come up to me when I am home to congratulate me on delivering such a fantastic speech with such a powerful message. Cisneros wrote, “Of all the wonderful things that happened to me last year, that was the most wonderful,” about her father enjoying her writing (104). I feel the same way about this experience. Of all the wonderful things that came out of me being the salutatorian of my graduating class, the most rewarding was the speech. The whole experience reassured me of my own capabilities as a mature writer and speaker. Even while giving my maid of honor speech at my sister’s wedding just a few weeks ago, I was much more confident in my writing and speaking skills and I owe that newly found confidence to this event.

Works Cited

Cisneros, Sandra. “Only Daughter.” Writing About Writing: A College Reader, Third ed., edited by J. E. Sullivan III, L. Rang, P. Lawson, and K. Ingham, Bedford/St. Martin's, Boston, MA, 2017, pp. 101–105.