Sunday, November 24, 2013

The Communication Killer: An Experience I Had In Grade 9 (Self-Consciousness)


Although people look alike, with four limbs and a torso and a head, their feelings do not come around the same away. Self–consciousness is something that is different for everyone; some people need practice in order to do well without much hesitation, while others are just naturally comfortable presenting in front of an audience. It all depends on the person.

Unfortunately, I am one of the practicing types; I just cannot get through a speech without the twitching and the scratching.  What I am trying to say is that I get nervous through presentations. Recently, last year, I felt self-consciousness throughout a drama presentation I was given for homework, due the following week. I decided to group up with students that I usually did not talk to even though of course my closest friends are the best to work with. They jump and flip and soar this way and that, right in front of the TV screen with a pencil and a piece of paper placed on the table, “ready” to work. No, they are just not the people I would want to work with. In fact, they are the worst people to work with. There might be one or two of my friends who are mature but really, at high school, the only subject most students seem to focus on is girls and games. Sure I might have more fun with students I actually know, and sure the presentation could be cooler with those students, but consequences kick in. I would get nothing but a big, fat zero if I teamed up with my friends.

 Anyhow, for the play, we had periods of class to practice and rehearse over and over again, so we did not do much out of class but some sound effects as well as the facial expressions and positioning we had to work on. We gathered after school in front of Starbucks near the village and ambled to one of the group members, Nima’s house on the last day with an opportunity to practice. We found ourselves with no problems, and feeling over confident, we all left for home.

The very next day, when I arrived at school, the first thing I learned was that my bright friend, Nima, changed some of the parts in the play at the last second. The changes were unnecessary. They weren’t needed, but yet now we had to perform the new version because we knew we wouldn’t be able to remember our lines without the script. All of my group members became anxious and they started blaming each other for this and that, that and this. I was just there, sitting on a chair and gazing at a blank wall, worried about the play. Would we do well? Would we make mistakes? I kept asking these questions, which I could not answer, when abruptly the teacher suddenly called our names. We all froze; we weren’t even close to ready and we were picked first. What were the odds of that happening?

Despite my friends’ background noise of laughter, hysteria, and panic, I retained my composure and went on with the play.  It wasn’t turning out so bad.  My group members were doing exactly what was told on the script. The sound effects and visuals were perfectly lined up against our play. Everything was great, until I flipped two pages without noticing. Worried and lost, I was sweating and adrenaline was pumping through my veins. Without much thought, I decided to end the play, forgetting about the rest, and said, “The End” with a lack of confidence. I stormed to my desk and hid my face under my arms, knowing that it was entirely my fault. I could just feel my group glaring at the unfathomable me, as they were treading back to their seats.

The pressure I felt as a result of my “self-consciousness” killed my communication skills, and I just don’t understand how.  I certainly need not feel fear, up on the stage, and yet I do.  I certainly need not worry, and yet I do. It is such a hard concept for one to conceive of. At the end of class, we all got to see our marks for the play. My group got a 79 percent. The bell had rung and I was tramping across the hallway with gloom. I saw my friends down on the far end. They bragged. The mark they got as group was something everyone would want; a 98 percent. They had scenes that were beautiful with the exact actions fitting in the background sound effects and everything seemed so perfect.

 

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