Foolish Decisions

Foolish Decisions

            “Are you ready?” the teacher asked me. I looked at him and then gave a quick look around. Everyone was staring at me. The whole class was waiting for a “No” as usual for an answer. I took a deep breath in and then, I let it out. Few seconds later, I stood up and walked towards the front of the classroom. My heart was beating so fast and so hard that for a moment I thought that it was going to pop out of my chest. My hands were sweating and I was shaking from head to toes. As I walked by some classmates, I heard one of them whispering, “Is she really going to do it?” It was a torture, a big sacrifice and the awkward silent made my walk to the cross even longer. Half way the room, someone in the back shouted out loud, “Nancy, you can do it!” I looked around immediately and saw him. I couldn’t believe who my eyes had just seen.

Ever since I was little, I’ve always been very shy. Trying to hide behind my mom, I should have known better, would not work all of the time. I was protected by all my family members and I was never left alone.  My oldest brother, Jose, and my older sister, Susana, were with me most of the time. I had everything I wanted because I was daddy’s favorite girl. I would go with my mom wherever she’d go. If I had to do something on my own, I was left alone for a couple of minutes, even an hour or so, but there was always someone who’d come and rescue me. I was the “spoiled child.” Being the youngest of the family, I’d say, definitely has its ups. However, when it comes down to the result of my actions, my decisions, and the consequences of those actions it also has its downs.

 When I was eleven years old, almost twelve, my parents decided to move to Aurora, Colorado. I came to the United States without knowing a word in English. It was very hard for my whole family to leave our friends behind and move to a country where people spoke a different language and had a somewhat different culture. Some people were nice to me and I started making new friends; a difficult task since I’ve never liked to introduce myself to random people. Everything was going okay but after two years, my parents got divorced and my mother decided to move to Arbuckle, California. Obviously she took my siblings and me with her, and my grandma, who has lived with us for a long time, came along with us too. Here we were back to the beginning one more time. Not knowing anyone in Arbuckle, except my mom’s cousins, we had to start all over again and make new friends.

            I’ve always liked school but not the part where I have to introduce myself to new people or the part where I have to give presentations. Not knowing English was my excuse to avoid speaking in front of class or reading out loud. That excuse worked for almost four years but when I got to my sophomore year everything changed.  Teachers knew me better by then and started asking more from me; they were forcing me to participate in class. In a way, they were just trying to help me defeat my fear to public speaking and my shyness.

            It was a hot day late in May, 2010, when I had to give my first formal presentation. The oral presentation along with an essay and a brochure was the final for Biology class, which could either raise my grade to a high B or to an A or bring it down to a C. Things were going great. I had finished my essay and the brochure two days before the due date (last essay I did without procrastinating). I had been practicing the oral presentation with my mom the night before. I was raised with education as a priority; A’s were good and B’s were accepted but C’s not so good. The only way to keep the B or raise my grade to an A was to give the presentation; I had no other option. There were two major problems: my shyness and the guy I had a crush on at that time who was the teacher’s assistant (TA) for that class period. My shyness I had to overcome, but what was I going to do so I wouldn’t I embarrassed myself in front of the guy I liked? Well, I thought I had found a solution; the day of the presentation I texted him and asked him nicely if he could leave the room for ten minutes so I could give my presentation. He said “No!” but I thought he was just messing with me. I guess I was wrong.

             I talked to my counselor at lunch before class started the day of the presentation and she gave me a little talk. She believed in me. She believed I could overcome my fear.  I was ready to do my presentation. There was nothing stopping me from getting an A or at least a high B (B+). I walked down the hall and out to the science classrooms. I stood in front of the door of the classroom and stare at it for a second; my internal voice kept talking, “You can do this. Everything will be fine. Just don’t turn around and walk away. You are opening the doors to the real world.” I opened the door and entered the huge microwave. As I entered the room, the hot air blew into my face. The smell of bananas and the smell of chili beans went all the way to my brain. Almost the whole class was in the hot, stinky room before the tardy bell rang (I think most of them were inside the classroom even before the second bell rang). Students were surrounding the teacher’s desk and asking him last minute questions. Some robot girls in the corner of the room, practicing the words’ pronunciation; a mispronounce word could be the end of their lives. I looked all over the room and I realized that a whole different atmosphere was surrounding me. The guy I liked wasn’t there; for a moment I thought he had been kind enough and had left so I could calmly give my presentation. The tardy bell rang and the teacher started off his class.

The presentations started a little bit after the teacher got everyone to settle down. Now the room was quiet; the person standing in front of the class, giving their presentation had everyone’s attention. I was the sixth person down the list which meant that I had a little extra time to think about how I was going to start my presentation. In less time than expected, my turn came. The teacher was sitting in one of the front desks. He turned around and asked me, “Are you ready?” My opportunity to overcome my fear was here; I couldn’t turn around and walk away, I couldn’t miss this opportunity. I was nervous. My breath was going away and I was getting dizzy. I couldn’t walk straight and I wanted to throw up really bad; for a moment I thought I was drunk. Everything around me kept moving but nothing was stopping me from raising my grade. Then, I heard the voice from the back of the room. It was him sitting on the corner desk; that’s why I probably missed him when I entered the room and looked around. He smiled at me and I fake smiled back at him. I was so mad that my eyes got a little bit watery (maybe that’s when I stopped liking him). All my hopes, my strength, and my faith had fainted away. I walked up to the teacher and looked directly into those blue eyes. He put his head down; deep inside him, he knew what was about to happen.  I handed him my essay along with my brochure and I said, “I’m sorry but I cannot do this.” Then, I started walking back to my desk. The teacher asked me one last time, “Are you sure about this? Are you sure you don’t wanna do it? That means you are getting not higher than a C.”

“The C is good enough. It is still a passing grade.” I replied. The teacher nodded and the conversation came to an end.

After class, I run to the restroom and quietly started crying; a cold cascade, which seem not to have an end, was running down my cheeks.  For the first time in my whole life I had gotten a C on my transcripts. It was one of the most bittersweet moments in my life; I had disappointed my mom, the teacher, who was one of my favorite teachers, and my counselor, but most important I had disappointed myself. The panic over oral presentations or public speaking is still part of my life. I never went out with the guy who “stopped” me from giving my presentation. I never even talked to him in person but through text messages because of my shyness. I hope someday to overcome this obstacle which keeps me from being who I really am or who I want to be, the fear that keeps me from meeting new people and getting out to the real world.