Home, Language and Difference

I've always been told that I talk too much. I can't deny it. I talk too loud, I don't always think before I speak, and I'm frequently a victim to spoonerisms. I'm embarrassed to say that every day, I find a new way to put my foot in my mouth.

I guess that's why I love public speaking so much, and one of the reasons I'm studying communications (Public Relations). It feels great to know that I can take my predisposition for speaking and actually hone it into something professional and effective. Years ago, when I was in high school, I participated in a oratory competition. It was the first time I had ever done anything like that, and I was representing my Honor Society Chapter. Needless to say, I was extremely nervous. How else would a first timer feel? I wanted to make everyone proud, but first timers don't win first place. 

They can, however, tie for second place. 

Last week's English conference reminded me of this experience. After years of not participating in any sort of public speaking activity, doing the "Interrogating Identity: Home, Language and Difference” felt like a breath of fresh air. 

Three of my friends were able to come and see me, as well as my father. I was the last one to speak. I had practiced the speech in my mind, but I still messed up some words every now and then. While I was speaking, I feel like my five senses augmented: I noticed small details in my paper and in the crowd, I was more conscious of my breathing, I could hear my heart beating, and I was acutely aware of how I was using my mouth to pronounce each word. 

I also became very self-conscious of that essay I had written weeks ago. Even though I knew it had been peer-reviewed, it didn't feel as great as all those other essays that had been presented. But then again, maybe I'm being too hard on myself. It definitely sparked discussion, which for me is the most important thing. 

After we were all done, it was time for the Q&A portion of the panel. Two professors, as well as one of my friends, made great questions. We talked about culture, about the Internet, about Jamaica Kincaid, and about Puerto Rico, among other things. 

In my two years of college, I have been to many conferences and panels. Sometimes they were extremely interesting. Sometimes they nearly bored me to sleep. Now that I've had the experience of being behind that podium, I realize the importance of always paying attention to the speakers, no matter what. Talking in front of people can be fun and dynamic, but it is never easy. When we get bored, it's normal to give into the temptation of drifting off in thought or of playing with our phones. But when people talk, it's important to listen. 

Whoever walks up to a podium and starts speaking -whether it's to a huge crowd or a handful of college students- deserves to be respected. There are many tips online about how to prepare a public speech. The suggestions are always the same: public speaking requires skill, practice, and professionalism. If I learned one thing from this experience it's that it also requires something else: guts.

Journey Through A Journal

Before this class, I had been wanting to begin journalizing* for quite a long time. I have at least half a dozen unused notebooks of various sizes spread out around my room. Keeping a journal was just the sort of thing that seemed to work better in theory than in practice. It was easy to buy pretty journals when I saw them in stores, and then promise myself that I would start using them. But when push came to shove, life got in the way– I had school and chores and a social life.

Like most college students, I find myself constantly complaining about tests, group projects, and complicated assignments. College is not easy. In fact, it's extremely stressful. Yet, something must be said about deadlines. I might curse deadlines on occasion, but there's no denying that at the end of the day, they are the simple best motivating tool I've ever encountered.

I never got around to writing journal entries on my own because no one gave me a deadline. In other words, no one was forcing me to. There just wasn't any sort of pressure to do anything, so I kept pushing it back, swearing that I would get around to it "eventually."

I guess that's one of the reasons I enjoyed writing journal entries for this course: because I finally got motivated to do something I'd wanted to do for a long time. I ended up doing around 40+ entries [I'll verify the number and edit this post later]. The rules were pretty simple: the entries had to "flow" out of our heads. Back in January, the professor said something along the lines of a stream of consciousness or a stream of thoughts. Do you know that feeling when you're talking to someone, and all of a sudden you get distracted and lose your train of thought? That's how I personally interpreted this activity: you had to get on a train of thought, start writing, and not get off the train until at least ten minutes passed.

It's definitely easier said than done. The rules were pretty simple: we couldn't cross anything out; we didn't have to worry about grammar in general; we couldn't overthink or get too logical; we had to "go for the jugular"; and no matter what happened, we couldn't stop moving our hand.

When I first started writing the entries, I felt stiff. There's no other way to describe it. It was supposed to be a writing exercise that freed us from the limitations of academic writing, but strangely enough, the writing felt forced. It didn't come as naturally as I'd originally thought. As the weeks passed, however, something began to change. By my 12th or 13th entry, I realized that little by little I was making more and more mistakes– but I was caring less and less about making them.

The first rule was definitely the hardest. As I was writing, I tried my best to let my thoughts flow... But whenever the timer ended I found myself re-reading what I'd just written, and my hand always itched to fix any mistakes. Even if no one was going to read the entry, it felt weird to see simple grammar mistakes and not cross them out.

I decided to do one of my journal entries immediately after watching one particular movie. Usually, ten minutes to write a journal felt like an unnecessarily long amount of time. But in this case, I felt like it just wasn't enough. I had so much I wanted to write down, so many ideas going through my mind simultaneously, that I felt like I could write for hours. I definitely loved that feeling.

The process of writing a journal was one of the best experiences I've had in any college class. I've spent so much of my time focused on my external journeys, that I never took time to appreciate all the interestingly complex internal journeys that I go through every single day.

[To be further edited]