On Personal Progress

As I and the other members of my company walked off the stage, I tripped down the stairs that led to our assigned tables. Soft laughter rippled through the crowd, and Terry, my company’s president, scowled at me. Seeing as my role that night was to impress the CEOs and representatives of each company sitting at the tables before me, I had not made the best first impression. This was Schoolhouse Sales, one of the only opportunities for me and my fellow members to pique the interest of the Junior Achievement office and the influential attendees- through soliciting donors to Junior Achievement itself. We were told to approach the table, interrupt the attendee’s conversation, and speak about how Junior Achievement had influenced us and why their donation would make a difference. Had I been tasked with this just a year prior, the attendees would have left with their wallets quite full.

I’ve always been awkward, preferring the company of books to people and wearing muted colors to avoid drawing attention to myself. While other kids my age were playing outside, I was inside, losing myself in the vivid worlds of Redwall and Harry Potter. At the time, I thought that it was far easier and enjoyable to avoid human contact altogether. However, it soon became all too evident how underdeveloped my social skills were. My oral presentations were horribly uncomfortable, I had no friends, and I was completely incapable of approaching others. By the end of eighth grade, I was fed up with the judgmental looks others gave me, the labels of “nerd” and “liuser” (A reference to my last name, Liu), and the lack of closeness with my own family.

I started out my freshman year with the belief that I could suddenly and drastically change a rather large part of my identity. Of course, it wasn’t as easy as I had imagined it to be, and I spent the greater part of freshman year garnering odd looks from others. Some were nice enough to make polite, albeit uncomfortable conversation, but others downright ignored me or made snide remarks. The difficulties I faced were made more stressful by the deterioration of my relationship with my father. By the end of freshman year, I had all but given up, allowing my predisposition toward shyness to dominate my personality once more.

My wake-up call was Academic Decathlon, which I had joined because of my incorrect belief that it only involved learning material from packets. To my horror, the first day, consisted of each member giving an impromptu speech. Later, the speech and interview practices reminded me not only that speaking skills were far more important than I had previously thought, but also how sorely lacking my own were. My involvement in Decathlon acted as a stimulus to revive my efforts.

In my junior year, I joined Junior Achievement, a program, which allows high schoolers to run their own company with little guidance from adults. The reason Junior Achievement has been so valuable for me is because it allowed me numerous opportunities to speak. Through marketing products to my classmates and strangers, I gained valuable connections and experience. Because almost nothing is mandatory for members, how much the program benefits you is completely dependent on how much effort you put in- and through this, I have realized that in the real world, nobody is going to badger you to do extra- how successful you are is completely dependent on your own ability to take initiative.

As I approached table 44, I recognized one of the people sitting there, and began to formulate a spiel that would most appeal to him. “Excuse me, sir. Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but my name is Emily, and I am part of the ICC company Hi-5 Enterprise…”