Response to Writing by Heart- prompt #7
The Memorized Text:
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Dreams by Langston Hughes.
The Memory:
I was starting high school, and I registered late because we had just moved from New York a week or two before school started. Due to last minute enrollment I had nothing to say about my schedule. I arrived and it was handed to me, likely created with whatever spaces were left in whatever classes were available. I remember a lot about that year socially- a new town and school, making friends and trying to find my place. Academically however, I remember little beyond how ahead we were in New York, compared to my grade level peers in Florida.
And there's one more thing I remember about my 9th grade classes: my elective class, Speech with Mrs. Stephens. She was a skinny older lady with big round hair, much like the wig Dustin Hoffman wore in Tootsie. Come to think of it, the hair and the big plastic rimmed, slightly shaded glasses she wore with the librarian neck chain attached were all reminiscent of the movie character. But she was the sweetest, happiest lady with a soft and kind voice, each word carefully enunciated. She was the Speech teacher after all. These days the class she taught would probably be called Public Speaking, not to be confused with speech therapy.
I never thought of myself as a speaker. A short, slightly chubby girl fighting to stay grounded in a somewhat obnoxious Long Island town, I was not exactly the epitome of confidence. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't particularly shy or socially inept. I played sports and always did well in school. But where I came from, everyone did. Pretty early on in the semester, Mrs. Stephens seemed to take a liking to me. One of the benefits of growing up in an academically competitive town, was the development of a strong work ethic. It didn't matter that Speech was "just an elective." To me it was a class, and that meant doing my best. I was just that kind of student.
As I mentioned, Mrs. Stephens took a liking to me and soon she asked me to compete on the Debate Team. Seriously? I thought. What do I know about debate? (Mom, if you're reading this- no snarky remarks about my affinity for argumentation). I was picturing nerdy guys in suits at podiums, arguing about politics*. No sir. That was not for me.
But that's not what Mrs. Stephens had in mind for me anyway. No. She wanted me for O.O. which stands for Original Oratory. You see, the Debate Team is really the Speech and Debate Team. She wanted me to compete in the Original Oratory event, in which I would be required to write a 10 minute speech about any topic I chose, memorize it. Then I would practice it, over and over, and over and over again with my teammates and my coach, to make sure it was well spoken, engaging, and within the 10 minute time frame. I worked on a couple of speeches throughout the year; the one I competed with most was on the topic of loneliness. It argued the difference between being alone and being lonely. I don't remember much about it other than the mild success I had in tournaments.
The speech I remember most though, was one I wrote for a specific competition. We were given a theme for our speeches and we all wrote on the same topic. This meant competing against my own teammates, which made the competition more challenging for me. My practice partner- who I can hear and picture clear as day, but can't remember her name- would also become my competition. The theme of the oratory was, Destiny, Choice Not Chance. My teammate wrote an eloquent speech quoting Frost's, The Road Not Taken and a couple of verses from The Police's song King of Pain. She was a year or two older than me and had more experience. I enjoyed watching her practice. I don't remember much about my speech except I used a quote from Abraham Lincoln I can't recall now, and another piece since ingrained in my memory today.
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Dreams by Langston Hughes.
The Reflection:
As I recalled this tiny high school blip on my radar screen, I realized I've never reflected much on this experience. Heck, I don't know if I've ever even given it any thought at all before now. I only competed on the Speech and Debate Team my freshman year, most likely because I became involved in other activities like competitive cheerleading and Key Club. I vaguely remember Mrs. Stephens approaching me sophomore year, but I no longer had speech class which meant less time to practice and ease in avoiding her.
But here's what I do know now. I have absolutely no fear of public speaking. Sure, I get the pre-speech adrenaline rush, and an occasional case of butterflies in my stomach. But I really have no true fear. In fact, I kind of like the adrenaline rush. It's a little like waiting to get on a rollercoaster. I'm not sure if this is something in me early on or if my experience on the Speech and Debate Team is responsible. Either way, it's pretty significant considering most articles or surveys, like this one, about Americans' biggest fears, has public speaking high in the ranks with heights and bugs. Whether Mrs. Stephens developed this in me, or noticed and nurtured it in me, I have no recollection of a significant public speaking experience prior to high school.
When I reflect on my oratory days, I also realize the wonderful writing experience it gave me. Writing a 10 minute speech is no minor feat (it would take much less than that to read this blog post), and writing for speaking is a whole other challenge for engaging an audience. You don't like my writing, you just stop reading it. You don't care for my blog, you just click on something else, maybe after leaving a negative comment, maybe not. But you don't like my speech, whoa...I can see it on your faces, hear it in your whispers, and i have to stand in front of you anyway and finish. We also had to use research and quotes, which gave me a good lesson in citing sources and choosing other people's words carefully.
I might go so far as to say Speech and Debate launched me as a writer. I hadn't thought about that until now. It wasn't until after two and half years of college, lots of self-doubt, and the guts to make a change, that I ended up deciding on a degree in Speech Communication. It really is amazing how much Speech Communication and writing are intertwined. Hence, communication.
Finally, back to the Langston Hughes poem, Dreams. I'm not sure why I chose this poem of all things related to destiny. Maybe it was in my English book that year. It's not as though I googled "dreams" or "destiny" on the internet. It was the 80's. But I do love Hughes' simple poem. Life really is about dreams. I'm always chasing new ones, and sticking with the ones not so easy to reach. The term "dreamer" is often used to connote one who lives in a fantasy world, who is unrealistic. I disagree. And defer to definition number one: one who dreams. Without my dreams, I would be that broken-winged bird, flying in circles in a spiral toward the ground face first. With my dreams, I'm outstretched, soaring with my face to the sun, always reaching, holding fast.
I believe in dreams, hopes, wishes. And I believe when your dreams come true, you create new ones.
Photo Credit: iama.be
*Of course I know now what a foolish stereotype I had in my head. Have you seen The Great Debaters?
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