The final days of high school are typically filled with excitement for graduating students as they bid farewell to this chapter of their lives, eagerly stepping into a new and promising phase. My experience was no exception.
As my high school journey drew to a close, the excitement of delivering a farewell speech bubbled within me. I looked forward to the opportunity to share my reflections and gratitude with the school community. Little did I realize that this chance to address my peers would be denied, not because of the substance of my ideas, but simply because of the way my words sounded.
There's an unwritten code in my school that the farewell speech should be delivered by the outgoing senior prefect, a male and if he is not available, the deputy senior prefect will take over.
So, during my graduation period, the senior prefect mentioned that he wouldn't be available to present the farewell speech. As the deputy, I was asked to do it.
Crafting the speech was a breeze; I had no problem with that at all. But the major challenge arose during the rehearsal periods. In presenting a speech, there are many things people watch out for, such as the content of your message, your body language, the tone of your message, etc.
I had no issue with any of this, as there were teachers around to guide me, and I was quick to adjust. However, the significant problem was my accent. Yes, my accent. I don't sound like an American, and it was a major problem.
They school management wanted me to sound like an American while presenting the speech, and mind you, I am Nigerian. So, no matter how hard I tried to mimic the American accent, all you could hear was a Nigerian speaking through her nose.
At a point, I was frustrated and almost depressed because teachers and the school management were at my throat. They had high expectations of me that I wouldn't fail them. I tried hard and downloaded several videos on my phone on how to speak like an American, but I wasn't getting it. It was just like someone held my throat as I spoke.
On several occasions, I asked to be allowed to speak naturally, but the reply I got was that parents appreciate it when their kids speak like Americans. Seriously?
At a point, the pressure was becoming too much; I could hardly concentrate, and sadness was trying to overwhelm me. I was beginning to feel like a failure, so I had to tell my school management that I couldn't present the speech if they wouldn't allow me to speak naturally. They tried to convince me that I could do it, but deep inside, I knew I couldn't handle the pressure. So, I held to my decision and refused to be convinced or brainwashed.
Those were the best decisions I have ever made. I felt proud of myself for not giving in to pressure. Quitting was necessary for my mental health because all I had in mind was how to present the speech. I could hardly eat and was always sad, but I wasn't about to let that push me into depression. Even my friends advised me to quit, and I did.
They got another of my classmates to do it, and she messed up, according to the school management. But to me, she did well; it's just that she didn't speak like an American as they expected her to.
If there is one thing I learned from this experience, it should be to avoid pressure from people. Do things at your own pace; don't be forced to do things when you clearly can't. They say everything is possible; learning a new accent and language is great, but at your own pace, not when you're being pressured to get it right in a short period of time. I am glad I said no because peace of mind really matters to me.