In my ninth-grade honors English class, we received an assignment to prepare and deliver a persuasive argument. For awkward adolescents, myself certainly included, this was a pretty big deal. Presentations were set to take place over a three week period with Ms. Gorman adjudicating from the last row of our classroom curcible. I remember a restless evening – as I repeated my lines sotto voce – the night prior to the first day of presentations. As the deadline neared, my stomach became increasingly tied in knots. I knew my speech, but the stress of anticipation caused delusions of oversight, escape, a stay-of-execution.
When third preiod English class finally arrived, our teacher stood in front of the class and asked, “So, who wants to go first?”
It was a pretty ludicrous question. No one wanted to go first. Silence lingered for an interminable 20 seconds before the unthinkable occurred: I popped out of my chair to volunteer. I don’t know what compelled me act, but before I could comprehend the consequences, I was up at the podium reciting my opening remarks.
