She left her spotlight,
for ‘twas time for young to shine.
She had conquered Time.
Tag: people
Conflict of Interest
“How could you support him?” She yelled, hands on hips, lips pursed in disapproval. Just as I thought she was done, “Him!” She yelled again. Unable to form any more words, she stared while I sipped my soda.
“What’s wrong with him?” He wasn’t the best but he was a good candidate. He created controversies, but also good arguments. And as his bushy hair soared, so did his popularity. I stood my ground, certain that responsibilities will alter attitudes.
“But he contested against me!” She wailed, her eyes welling up. “How could you not support me for class leader, Dad?”
Social Life
The Gross Job
“Eww, gross. How to get rid of the blood from our hands?”
Katie looked at her palms smeared in the greenish hue of once-fresh blood. She removed the lingering tissues from between her fingers, struggling not to throw up on her partner.
Michael was more calm. “Let’s worry about that later.” He assured her. “Our priority is keeping the heart and the liver intact. A lot depends on this job.”
Wrinkling her nose, Katie read the instructions. “Immerse organ in solution, replacing the liquid everyday for a week.”
“Ok,” Michael said, determination spreading across his eyes. “Let’s get that A.”
Discovery
I hate mobs. They make me nervous. Even as I think about it, my heart bangs in its cage and my legs start to tremble threatening to give way at any moment. And speaking in front of a gathering is awful. Give me a mike and put me under the spotlight, and I’ll be reduced to a slump.
Or, at least, that’s what I thought it would be like.
In school and at work, I’ve had to explain something to a bunch of people. But every time that happens, I freak out so much that my speech loses all sense. And that’s why I was beyond “just nerves” when I heard I’d have to conduct a session in a workshop at my job.
To complicate things, I already knew a bit about my audience: they were all stay-at-home married women. Some had kids, some had more time. Most of them were single- or double-degree holders on a break after marriage. And all of them were at least 10 years older than I. Talk about intimidation.
I needed several deep breaths. And a few gulps — of air.
How would I explain something to them without coming off as a young and insufferable know-it-all? I had so many doubts; people hated contradictions, and a school kid telling older women what to do, isn’t most people’s idea of an ideal workshop. They would’ve expected somone much older-looking, taller, and experienced to conduct an educational workshop.
And yet, when I stood in front of the audience, the glare from the projector almost blinding me, the uncertainty disappeared from my mind. All of a sudden, I was looking at a bunch of people eager to learn; they didn’t care that my head, while I stood, was at their eye while they sat.
Clutching the mike, I, for the first time, felt confident facing a crowd. I was calm. My legs were steady, my heartbeat didn’t sound like a siren, and my pulse wasn’t racing. I began, and I felt myself smiling. I realised how easy it felt. It felt natural talking to these women who wanted to learn and to listen. And then, out of nowhere, I discovered I had matured so much from the shy and cowering schoolgirl I was until a few years ago.
I had grown up at last. And for once, all was well.
