djmwilliams
Sep 20, 2015
Scholarship / Performance Anxiety [Questbridge Additional Essay, Prompt #1] [4]
I would really appreciate some feedback on this, since the deadline is in 8 days!
There are certain decisions you don't regret until the very moment they come back to bite you. This was one of those decisions. It took nearly all of my willpower to fight down my usual reaction to nerves: an embarrassing full-body tremor. My name was tenth on the list of speakers. There were only nine presenters before I had to go up in front of the audience - a crowd of maybe 200 people - and speak my piece. Usually, my deep-seated stage fright meant that I wouldn't be caught dead in the spotlight - "usually" being the operative word.
The "Speak the Word" event took place at the end of junior year. It was only at the suggestion of Mr. Pershan, the Writer's Club adviser, that I even considered participating - I've loved writing since I was young, but sharing it in front of an audience was a daunting prospect. Still, I decided I could do it. Maybe, I thought to myself, I could beat my stage fright in one fell swoop.
The piece I chose was a personal one I had written earlier in the year - an autobiographical not-quite-poem called Things No One Tells You. It's about coming out, coming to terms with yourself, and just existing as a lesbian. As I sat in my chair at the front of the library, looking down at the printed version of my piece in front of me, I silently cursed myself for choosing something so intimate to present in front of such a large group. It had a compound effect - the anxiety about performing, combined with the anxiety about coming out to this group of people I barely knew, made my stomach churn.
"And next is DJ Williams, presenting Things No One Tells You."
The announcement took me by surprise: I had been too busy in my own head to pay attention to who exactly was up at the podium, and now it was my turn. My friend Maria mouthed 'good luck' to me as I walked up to take my place at the front of the room, feeling like my body was on autopilot. I looked out at the rows of people watching me expectantly, then down at the words printed on my sheet of paper, then finally at the microphone. I closed my eyes and took a breath.
"They don't tell you that it's a process..."
As it turned out, this one moment wasn't enough to kill my stage fright. However, it was definitely a start. Getting up in front of that crowd, even if it didn't make my fear magically vanish, made me feel like I was in control of my anxiety instead of the other way around. For a week after Speak the Word, I had people coming up to me and telling me that they loved my piece, or that I was brave. My proudest moment was the one that made me feel like, just maybe, I deserve to feel proud.
I would really appreciate some feedback on this, since the deadline is in 8 days!
an embarrassing full-body tremor
There are certain decisions you don't regret until the very moment they come back to bite you. This was one of those decisions. It took nearly all of my willpower to fight down my usual reaction to nerves: an embarrassing full-body tremor. My name was tenth on the list of speakers. There were only nine presenters before I had to go up in front of the audience - a crowd of maybe 200 people - and speak my piece. Usually, my deep-seated stage fright meant that I wouldn't be caught dead in the spotlight - "usually" being the operative word.
The "Speak the Word" event took place at the end of junior year. It was only at the suggestion of Mr. Pershan, the Writer's Club adviser, that I even considered participating - I've loved writing since I was young, but sharing it in front of an audience was a daunting prospect. Still, I decided I could do it. Maybe, I thought to myself, I could beat my stage fright in one fell swoop.
The piece I chose was a personal one I had written earlier in the year - an autobiographical not-quite-poem called Things No One Tells You. It's about coming out, coming to terms with yourself, and just existing as a lesbian. As I sat in my chair at the front of the library, looking down at the printed version of my piece in front of me, I silently cursed myself for choosing something so intimate to present in front of such a large group. It had a compound effect - the anxiety about performing, combined with the anxiety about coming out to this group of people I barely knew, made my stomach churn.
"And next is DJ Williams, presenting Things No One Tells You."
The announcement took me by surprise: I had been too busy in my own head to pay attention to who exactly was up at the podium, and now it was my turn. My friend Maria mouthed 'good luck' to me as I walked up to take my place at the front of the room, feeling like my body was on autopilot. I looked out at the rows of people watching me expectantly, then down at the words printed on my sheet of paper, then finally at the microphone. I closed my eyes and took a breath.
"They don't tell you that it's a process..."
As it turned out, this one moment wasn't enough to kill my stage fright. However, it was definitely a start. Getting up in front of that crowd, even if it didn't make my fear magically vanish, made me feel like I was in control of my anxiety instead of the other way around. For a week after Speak the Word, I had people coming up to me and telling me that they loved my piece, or that I was brave. My proudest moment was the one that made me feel like, just maybe, I deserve to feel proud.
