Public speaking has always come easily to me, without the stuttering and nerves that affect most people. It segued into joining the debate club freshman year, an extracurricular that I have come to love more than any other. Over time, I became synchronized with the rhythm of debate tournaments; I memorized the length of each speech, learned how to ask unanswerable questions, and conclude a round so that no judge would ever vote against me. Unlike most, the daunting image of a podium relaxes me, and when standing behind one, I feel most like myself.
When my hands slightly tremble as I hold my speech, I don’t think of how much the other team wants me to crumble. I try to block out the sound of my opponent clicking his pen, a distraction that is far understated in the debate world. Instead, I picture my partners face when we went to the State finals sophomore year. I envision the applause of the audience at the awards ceremony, showing excitement and jealousy at the same time.

High school debate has taught me many unusual things. For one, I can gladly say that I can go up and down stairs in high heels. I can transcribe what people are saying faster than anyone else, and it’s still legible. I have developed the conversation skills to talk to my opponents with an open mind, and end the debating when we walk out of the room. After four years, I don’t judge people who talk to walls because they might just be practicing for an upcoming Storytelling oration. Instead of brushing past people who talk to themselves, I have learned to listen, because maybe, just maybe, they are incredible speakers.