“Goodman, you’re up. I hope you did well on this. It’s one of the most important events in the Persian Gulf War!” the teacher yelled. “Oh boy,” I whisper nervously under my breath.“ I really don’t want to do this.”
After days of pushing off my history presentation, always opting to go last, as I ordinarily did every other project, the teacher’s eyes fell on me, signaling that it was my turn at last. I stood up from my desk, reluctantly, walked to the front of the class and grabbed the clicker. I felt the eyes of all my classmates fixed on me, desperately searching for something to snicker at, or at least it felt that way. I turned around to face them, my hands shaking a bit, my sweaty palms grasping the clicker. I notice that the kids that presented before me had no trouble speaking or presenting. That is different for me. I start presenting, with every word becoming harder to spit out of
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In my junior year of high school, my physics teacher told our class about a project at one of the other schools in the district that we could help with. I signed up, knowing that it would add to the undoing of my shyness. We headed over to the school, ready to help the children. The fourth and fifth graders were building foam rocket cars, which our class built a week before. I collaborated with my classmates and the kids to help build an amazing rocket car. The children showed off their creativity and responsibility while having a lot of fun constructing their cars. The children were only handling the foam along with the wheels, using our help to mold the foam with a hot wire. My classmates and I enjoyed our time at the school very much and enjoyed seeing the kids with smiles on their faces. We thanked the students for having us and left the building. The opportunity left us feeling warm inside and wanting to do it again. The school invited us again the next week to watch the children race their