April 27: The Final Speech

Comm 101. Public Speaking. A class that was required for graduation. A class that most people feared and put off until the last semester of senior years. Public speaking is the number one fear for Americans so it made perfect sense that this was by far the largest class on campus. The average classroom size at Chapman University was thirty people, but Comm 101 had upwards of one hundred students.

Students stressed over final papers and exams, but dreaded standing in front of a lecture hall full of judgmental peers. A semester of technique and style led to a two-week period of final speeches by nervous and terrified young adults. They gave speeches on deaths in the family. They delivered sermons on the struggles of immigrating Mexican families and gave tirades on political mumbo jumbo.

When it was my turn to face the crowd, I nervously descended the stairs to the front of the lecture hall. I stood in front of the giant dry erase board and waited patiently for the professor to get his papers organized. When he pointed at me signifying the okay to start, I scanned the audience. Students from freshmen to seniors looked down on me with anticipation of another long and boring lecture on a family pet or the purchase of a first car.

In a deadpan, I began with an oral history of the yo-yo. I drew diagrams of axles and strings. I explained how the evolution of technology changed a simple toy and how creating a ball-bearing to spin around a metal axle resulted in longer sleep times and more advanced tricks. As the ridiculously silly address progressed from history lesson to enthusiasm over a child's toy, my energy level climbed higher and higher.

The audience, which started as a stressed out and slouched group of students, sat up in their seats and leaned forward. I delivered each word with clarity, enunciation, and unparalleled fervor. I bounced back and forth with merriment from diagram to diagram as each student dutifully listened.

They roared with laughter as I extracted my bicycle helmet from beneath the podium and placed it on my head. Their anticipation grew as I withdrew my purple Spintastics Tigershark yo-yo and did a few loop-de-loops in preparation for my Hydrogen Bomb finale. They held their breath as the butterfly-shaped toy shot to my right, fiercely spinning at the end of the string. Eyes were glued on the the purple blur as it flew around extended fingers, bounced off taut strings and shot through a final loop-de-loop before safely landing in my open hand. The spectacular culmination sent an unseen wave of energy throughout the room causing every sitting member to leap to his and her feet in uproarious applause.

Although I had politely asked for a standing ovation if my attempted stunt were to succeed, it still felt great to be on the receiving end of such admiration and love. As I proudly stood with my Tigershark clenched in my right hand, I couldn't help but smile and take several bows. Fear of speaking publicly had nothing on me!