Sophomore Year: How I Overcame My Introversion

For most of my life, I've always been that one student at the back of the class - the kid with a timid, shy expression of fear and a "please don't call on me, teacher" look on her face. I would never participate in class discussions, I would never ask my teachers any questions, nor I would I ever converse with any of my peers. The truth is, my mind was always so loud - a beaming panorama of thoughts racing at one million miles per hour - yet I never had the guts to make my voice heard.

It wasn't until giving a TEDx Talk on the sibling rivalry during my freshman year when an immense question immersed its way into my brain. Why have I always been so fearful of people rejecting my thoughts? To be honest, I didn't know (and still don't truly understand) the exact answer to that question. However, I became more aware of the fact that if I didn't express my opinions, then simply, I would never know if others would reject them or not.

From that point on, when the news spread that I, a known introvert, was the first student in my high school to perform a TEDx talk at my school's district event, my outlook on life dramatically altered. Suddenly, my worst fear - public speaking - became my favorite passion within a span of a few days.

In came the beginning of sophomore year - a year where I was extremely anxious of peoples' newly established expectations of me, the "TEDx girl." Stepping into every class on the first day of school was like opening up a box of assorted chocolates - like Forrest Gump said, "you never know what you're gonna get."

In my case, what I received from others were assumptions that I was no longer shy, but rather an outspoken individual. However, these conclusions deemed extremely false. Yes, I may have spoken on the red dot, but I was not exactly prepared to tackle the real world like others around me assumed I could.

Those first few days of sophomore year embodied one of the most arduous and challenging periods of my life by far. Unlike freshman year, I started to jump high measures beyond my comfort zone - I forced myself to participate in classroom conversations, I asked questions just to get my participation points, and I even created casual conversation with my acquaintances (for once in my life).

You would think that these simple actions improved my self-esteem, but instead of doing so, it placed an opposite effect on my mindset. I became so uncomfortable with changing my personality in such a short span of time; because of this, I eventually reached a burn-out phase. It took quite a while to recover from this tension within my identity, but soon later, the end of September would save me for the better.

What I didn't mention was that over the summer before 10th grade, two of my peers and I planned to found a TEDEd Club Chapter. We planned its grand launch at September's end. When the first meeting came, the co-founders and I met faces of curiosity - individuals who were ecstatic to present an "idea worth spreading."

Every meeting after that, I looked forward to hearing the ideas from a newfound family of club members - people whom I became great friends with in the process. I enjoyed, for one hour every Wednesday, expressing my thoughts in a creative environment where everyone was diverse in their opinions.

For each club meeting, we used interactive exercises - from peer editing to fun discussions - to prepare for the first ever student run TEDEd Club events at my high school. Every Wednesday was a new journey that slowly engraved an everlasting devotion towards public speaking - but for real this time.

It was finally here - the first part of the TEDEd Club event at my high school. During this event, club members gathered in a classroom to watch speakers perform, including myself. This marked my second ever talk that I performed - a speech that roasted the flaws within the American education system.

Witnessing my club members' final TEDEd Talks on both days was as satisfying as adding the last layer to an acrylic painting. It was an end product that the girl two years ago at the back of the classroom could've never imagined would come to life.

Throughout the years of my childhood, I rapidly lost hope, ounce by ounce, of being able to overcome my fear of public speaking. Though it took 14 years to finally cross those boundaries, I do not hold any regrets on how I approached the breaking of my shell.

Sophomore year represented a time of opportunity - an opportunity for struggles, an opportunity for breakthroughs, and lastly, an opportunity for discovery. Not only did I found a club, but I found my voice.