Finding My Voice by Troy

Finding My Voice by Troy - July 2016 Scholarship Essay

“Learning carries within itself certain dangers because out of necessity one has to learn from one's enemies,” this quote originally stated by the founding leader of the Russian Red Army says something powerful about the lessons we learn. Deep within our conscience it can be almost unfathomable to think that we could learn a single thing from those who we oppose the most. It is probably even more unbelievable that a teacher could be the vile antihero in the story of your life. Although, only a few years ago the stage was set perfectly for these things to come to fruition in my reality.
At that time, to say I was shy was an extreme understatement. My most common hobby was seeking to bury myself in the confines of my wooden desk as if I was an annoying sliver piercing the skin of a hand. I was the lone smart kid. In reality, the only thing I had going for me was buck teeth, and good grades. Neither of which were much appreciated by the other kids. For that reason, it would have been more than pleasing to me, if my life could have been contained within the confines of that tiny little bubble for the rest of my life. Unfortunately the wicked witch, who was my teacher, would not accept that.
By this point in time I had realized I was good at writing, and solving math problems. So naturally on all my assignments, I waited until the very last minute to complete them, and turn them in. Usually this happened during warmups, while everyone else prepared for the day, I completed last night’s homework. On one cool autumn evening near the beginning of class, my teacher happened to walk by my desk, and she caught me red-handed working on our homework essay. I haphazardly tried to shove it under my binder, but it was to absolutely no avail. The funny thing was she didn’t act as if she noticed, so I just kept working on it and turned it in with everyone else.
Within seconds, she collected them on her desk and began to grade them while we continued to focus on our warmups. The room was fairly quiet except for the scratching of pencils, and the flipping of papers. Until suddenly, I heard my name called.
“Troy, come here please,” I thought it was in my head, so like an idiot, I ignored it and continued working.
“Troy, I want you to read this to the class please,” this time, I heard my teacher’s voice clear and distinct. Although for whatever reason, up to this point I had not processed what she had said. I walked over to her desk, grabbed my paper, and in but a moment I stood in front of the room.
Fear gripped my chest, a dam burst in my pores, and briny water flooded down my face. My mouth felt like death valley, and it seemed as if everyone’s eyes were bored into my skull.
“Hello,” I croaked.
I don’t even know if I spoke out loud. That was it, nope, I couldn’t do this. I immediately ran to my desk, and sat down. I felt as if my teacher was some cruel dictator who was trying to take away my right not to talk to people. I shoved my head in my arms as an act of defiance.
Moments later.
“Troy, get back up there, you are doing fine,” my teacher tried to persuade me.
I got up slowly, without saying a word. I wasn’t going to cry, at least not yet. I am not going to cry. Oh boy, it was only two tears.
“This is titled Boiling Fire and Ok,” I began slowly, “OK is, ughhhhhhh, short for Oliver Kakecrumbles he was, um, a blue ostrich who loved to eat, and his sidekick was Boiling Fire a human. How did the ostrich turn blue you ask….”
It had begun. People laughed during the story. They asked questions, and they seemed entertained. I didn't think the whole time, I just read through it, and when I was completely finished the classroom burst into applause. I could not believe what had happened.
The wicked witch had turned me into a storyteller, an entertainer, and more importantly she had connected me to people in a way unlike any I had ever experienced before. The most important lesson I ever learned from a teacher is that only when you go through your trials, and face your fears in the blinding wake of self-opposition, only then can you truly learn. Only then can you grow, and better yourself. That same year I ran for Vice President, and the year after I became president of Student council. All those years I had kept to myself because I had been too timid and afraid. When all along I had a voice, it just took a special teacher to force it out of me.