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Wow. Life is so full of little suprises and bursts of happy memories. Today, I was going through all of my drawers full of papers and bills and flyers and all kinds of things. Cleaning and getting everything in order for move-out. I came across a stack of my writing from high school. In it, I found my Farewell Speech. My junior year, I enrolled in a speech class offered by one of the best teachers, and people, a queer kid from a second-rate homophobic public school could wish to know. Mrs. Wignall. She made it so easy to be comfortable. She tought here class accordingly. She didn't teach how to give speeches. She tought us how to grow as people. I think she's been one of the best and biggest influences on my life. I can't believe that I'd almost forgotten her, but more importantly, that class. I think it's someone's way of pointing out my own subconsious to me that I came across this speech at this time. I've put it behind a cut tag, because it's kind of long. The guidelines for the speech were simple. It was our last one. What did we want to say to the class for the last time?
Lonely, depressed, hurt, alone, unhopeful. That’s what I used to be. But I’ve changed. Life is about changes. Times change. People change. Some for worse, and some for the better. As I was writing this, I was looking over the pictures on my bedroom wall – most of family and childhood friends, many long gone from my life. But as my eyes roamed over the collage, they came to rest on one particular picture – my kindergarten class photo. Mrs. Carlson’s kindergarten class of 1989. it really got me thinking of how much people really do change. Not just in appearance, either. I remember that we all started out the same in 1989. all of us were equal. We were all understood, all of us friends. But something happened. We grew up. And somewhere along the line, our level of equality crashed. We were left to scramble to safety on our own. The understanding we had of each other disappeared, as well as the friendship we once shared. For some of us, safety became new friends, with whom we laughed and trusted. Some of us ran to athletics, to prove their excellence, and that they were above being equal. Some went to academics. And some were left in the dust, our heads spinning in the face of the real world – not sure what to do next. Those were the ones that got picked on daily. They got beat up twice a week, just to be reminded of their not-so-equal status. They went home in tears every day, and never really had a childhood – only a void of self-hatred, longing, and imprisonment. I can honestly say that I am one of those people. At least I used to be. Along the way, a lot of things happened in my life; they’ve made me who I am today. They’ve made me who I will be tomorrow, and the day after. Admittedly, I do wish a lot of it hadn’t happened. Up until a year ago, I still believed that if I wished hard enough, it would come true. I used to wish I could make it through one day without hearing taunting laughter, and hurtful meaningless words. I wished my lockers wouldn’t be broken into or my book bag stolen so often. I wished someone hadn’t smashed my dead grandfather’s pocket watch out of hatred. That the first person I ever really cared for hadn’t killed himself, only because he couldn’t face the hatred of his parents, which was too like the hatred of strangers; the same hatred that causes so many of us to lose touch with sanity, and lose hope in life. And I’d also wish I wasn’t different, that it would all go back and be like it was in 1989. when we were equal. But as I’ve said, I’ve changed too. I know how to stand up for myself, and for people like me. I know how to make what I want to happen, happen. I know how to seize the day. “Carpe Dieme” says Robin Williams in The Dead Poet’s Society. “Forget regret, or life is yours to miss…No day but today,” screams the cast of RENT.
If, a year ago, you had asked me if I missed the old days, when we were all equal, I would have said yes. But now, I’m not so sure. Everything changes; it is a fact of life. Whether we enjoy it or not. And I don’t think I would have changed anything, or done anything different if I could go back in time. So, life goes on. By next week, all our lives will have changed again and again. So much, in fact, that most of what was said in here, most of what was learned and shared about each other will have been forgotten already. And maybe that’s what I’ll miss most of all. Because this class, I’ve realized, isn’t just about learning how to give speeches; nearly anyone can throw words out at an audience and make them glimmer and shine. More importantly, though, this class was a place to learn about each other – to peek into another life, another way of living, another way of dealing with the changes. As we grow older, it’s guaranteed that our lives will change more and more as the years go by. But for me, I’ll be saying farewell to more than just “speech class.” I’ll be saying good bye to that little kindergartner inside me. I’ll always remember for one brief moment, that one semester in my junior year, my biggest wish came true: at least for a little while, we were all transported back to 1989, and we were all once again, equal.
Lonely, depressed, hurt, alone, unhopeful. That’s what I used to be. But I’ve changed. Life is about changes. Times change. People change. Some for worse, and some for the better. As I was writing this, I was looking over the pictures on my bedroom wall – most of family and childhood friends, many long gone from my life. But as my eyes roamed over the collage, they came to rest on one particular picture – my kindergarten class photo. Mrs. Carlson’s kindergarten class of 1989. it really got me thinking of how much people really do change. Not just in appearance, either. I remember that we all started out the same in 1989. all of us were equal. We were all understood, all of us friends. But something happened. We grew up. And somewhere along the line, our level of equality crashed. We were left to scramble to safety on our own. The understanding we had of each other disappeared, as well as the friendship we once shared. For some of us, safety became new friends, with whom we laughed and trusted. Some of us ran to athletics, to prove their excellence, and that they were above being equal. Some went to academics. And some were left in the dust, our heads spinning in the face of the real world – not sure what to do next. Those were the ones that got picked on daily. They got beat up twice a week, just to be reminded of their not-so-equal status. They went home in tears every day, and never really had a childhood – only a void of self-hatred, longing, and imprisonment. I can honestly say that I am one of those people. At least I used to be. Along the way, a lot of things happened in my life; they’ve made me who I am today. They’ve made me who I will be tomorrow, and the day after. Admittedly, I do wish a lot of it hadn’t happened. Up until a year ago, I still believed that if I wished hard enough, it would come true. I used to wish I could make it through one day without hearing taunting laughter, and hurtful meaningless words. I wished my lockers wouldn’t be broken into or my book bag stolen so often. I wished someone hadn’t smashed my dead grandfather’s pocket watch out of hatred. That the first person I ever really cared for hadn’t killed himself, only because he couldn’t face the hatred of his parents, which was too like the hatred of strangers; the same hatred that causes so many of us to lose touch with sanity, and lose hope in life. And I’d also wish I wasn’t different, that it would all go back and be like it was in 1989. when we were equal. But as I’ve said, I’ve changed too. I know how to stand up for myself, and for people like me. I know how to make what I want to happen, happen. I know how to seize the day. “Carpe Dieme” says Robin Williams in The Dead Poet’s Society. “Forget regret, or life is yours to miss…No day but today,” screams the cast of RENT.
If, a year ago, you had asked me if I missed the old days, when we were all equal, I would have said yes. But now, I’m not so sure. Everything changes; it is a fact of life. Whether we enjoy it or not. And I don’t think I would have changed anything, or done anything different if I could go back in time. So, life goes on. By next week, all our lives will have changed again and again. So much, in fact, that most of what was said in here, most of what was learned and shared about each other will have been forgotten already. And maybe that’s what I’ll miss most of all. Because this class, I’ve realized, isn’t just about learning how to give speeches; nearly anyone can throw words out at an audience and make them glimmer and shine. More importantly, though, this class was a place to learn about each other – to peek into another life, another way of living, another way of dealing with the changes. As we grow older, it’s guaranteed that our lives will change more and more as the years go by. But for me, I’ll be saying farewell to more than just “speech class.” I’ll be saying good bye to that little kindergartner inside me. I’ll always remember for one brief moment, that one semester in my junior year, my biggest wish came true: at least for a little while, we were all transported back to 1989, and we were all once again, equal.
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From:
speech
From:
Re: speech
From:
no subject
And that was the jist of it...
She also said something about remembering us always... I saw her about a week after graduation and I said hi and she said: "Do I know you? Are you hitting on me?"
Yeah, glad she remembered me! =)
From:
Hahaha
Yeah, a lot of people in HS were like that *sigh*