Sample+How+I+Became

 How I Found My Voice

When one who knows me is asked to choose adjectives to describe my personality, the term “shy” does not generally make an appearance. This may not seem like much of a problem, but when I am asked to describe myself, shyness always surfaces as one of the top three descriptors. From whence does this discrepancy originate? I have chosen a profession in which I am often found speaking, probing, motivating, all at the center of the attention, just where I’d rather not be. Though my shyness and discomfort in social situations persists, I have managed to periodically lock my shyness behind a humorous façade, allowing my words the air-time they deserve. I fancy myself to be a bit of an observer—someone who likes to take in her surroundings before coming to any conclusions, let alone sharing any of them. If I deem the waters are safe for entry, I might dip in a cautious toe, but that’s not even definite. Throughout the first twelve years of my educational career, I avoided speaking in class. It wasn’t that I didn’t have anything to say, I just wanted to say it perfectly, and that took some forethought and preparation. Allowed the time to write my thoughts before sharing and I was able to exude a temporary front of confidence. Unfortunately, however, that time was not necessarily at hand when I needed it to be. “Does anyone have an idea as to why Chaucer included so many unsavory characters?” I immediately dropped my eyes to my book, peeking intermittently around the room as my stomach tightened. “Anyone?” The silence was killing me. “Ali?” My heart stopped. “Why don’t you give it a try?” I have no idea what I mustered at that moment, but I do know that the teacher simply nodded in response and asked someone else, still searching for the answer he was looking for. Once again, my methodical and organized nature did not allow me to say what was on my mind, instead leaving me at the bottom of a heap of my words. Despite my fear of speaking publicly, I continued to enjoy writing and feedback from teachers and friends reinforced my feeling that my written communication was improving. People could understand my intended message and my writing was actually having an impact on my readers. “Your voice really rings true in this piece.” //My voice rings true.// Though my mode of communication was on the page, I was finding an outlet for what I thought needed to be said. Confidence was on the rise as I began to believe that I could clearly communicate what I wanted to say. After my experiences at a small private school, university awaited, the sea of anonymity poised and ready to sweep me to the corners of oblivion. I had a choice, however: allow myself to be swept by that sea, or to push to have my voice heard, to be a part of life’s discourse. “You want to teach?” My professor looked at me with disbelief and laughed. “How do you expect to teach if you never speak up?” And that was that. I wasn’t going to let someone tell me that my expectations were unrealistic. I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone. I volunteered in class and with each attempt it became easier and the learning process became reciprocal. One year later, I find myself in my own classroom, listening to students discuss how crucial diversity is to promoting change. A few students silently observe, nodding periodically, proving engagement. The discussion is intense providing little opportunity for students who prefer not to interrupt or interject to be heard. I stop the class for a moment, allowing for some silence, “How about those who haven’t spoken? Let’s give them a chance to share their ideas.” More awkward silence ensues as we wait. Voices finally break the silence: heard. Their voices ring true.