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| Public speaking -- DOOM! |
Greetings and Salutations, Y'all!
Folks, as a writer and blogger nothing could me more rewarding for me than to learn that something I have written has touched, or inspired someone to learn.
I would like to call your attention to my blog post from Monday, April 8th debunking Black Confederate Denial.
Apparently my humble defense of Confederate veterans of color and dissection of the arguments of Black Confederate Deniers has garnered a number of rather spirited debates on several other blogs and Civil War sites. It is currently the second-most viewed article on my blog with a whopping 28,903 hits to date! Certainly it has garnered more hits in a vastly shorter amount of time than the current record keeper -- not too bad at all.
My article has received wide praise of many of my peers in the Southern heritage defense community, and deafening silence from several "history" bloggers (sic) who make a living off the denial and denigration of non-white Confederate veterans -- my reputation as The Man Deniers Fear The Most is still secure apparently.
Well, not total silence from the Denier community.
Civil War Talk website devoted an forum on the discussion of my blog post. The discussion went on for a couple weeks apparently with both sides taking vigorously debating the points of my blog post. Those defending black Confederate veterans made some outstanding points, and those who support the Denier's argument were....uh, predictable, though made respectfully for once. My complements on the moderators who run the site for keeping the discussions civil. The site definitely gets four stars.
I was also deeply honored to receive a short personal review from none other than Mr. Tony Horwitz, Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and author of Confederates In The Attic (1998). Sadly, Mr. Horwitz passed away on May 27th, about two weeks after I received his message. I will always be thankful that a man like Mr. Horwitz took the time to message a simple small-town country writer like yours truly -- I'm actually getting goosebumps as I write this.
All-in-all, not too bad for a guy from a small town in upstate South Carolina who blogs about local history, amateur astronomy, and various assorted other topics and travel photography.
So imagine my surprise when I was contacted a month after posting my article by a middle school history teacher who asked if I would like to come talk to her class about my article and the subject of Black Southerners from South Carolina who were loyal to Dixie and fought for the Confederacy.
Apparently one of her students wrote a history paper on the subject and sited my article as a primary source. She informed me that the paper was so well received by the rest of the class that she had to contact me. When the teacher found out I was local (within 50 miles or so relative to where I live), she asked if I would consent to come speak about the subject to two of her history classes the following Friday.
When I received her message, I accepted the offer -- although right afterwards I did kinda start to have second, and third thoughts about the whole thing.
You see folks, I do not do well with public speaking at all. In fact speaking in front of crowds of any size always makes me extremely nervous.
A part of this comes from my personal Autism spectrum issues, notably my inability to really look people in the eyes for more than a second, or so; as well as social anxieties and my lack of ability to mentally filter out noises -- meaning that in crowds of people talking I cannot focus on one voice, or conversation, and get all the sounds overlapping. It can be extremely stressful and why I largely avoid big indoor crowds for extended periods of time.
Whenever I go to a place like an outdoor fair, or comic con, I usually try to attend early, or on days when the events are not so big. I feel a bit claustrophobic when the crowds start getting larger, and more often than not I have to go someplace by myself for a few minutes, just long enough to be away from people and crown noise to center myself again.
It actually turns out that my condition isn't that uncommon, especially for people on the autism spectrum. Avoiding eye contact, awkward with small-talk, displaying introverted behavior -- all me. Most times I usually manage very well, and have only rarely ever had a severe panic attack.
The absolute worst panic attack I've ever had was about seven years ago in a large shopping center that I'd never been in before in a neighboring county with my grandmother Carolyn (God rest her soul!) and youngest brother, Alex. It was a few weeks before Christmas and the store was packed full of loud people, even louder little kids that seemed to love testing the acoustics in the store with their little voices, and a very loud female voice on the PA system that went off seemingly every 30 seconds, or a minute. It was the first time I'd ever just shut down. Normally, I'd just leave the cart and walk outside to the parking lot and let myself calm down. This time, I literally sat on a bench in the men's shoe isle and closed my eyes, shaking and breathing erratically. I apologized to my family and told them I would be in the car waiting -- and promptly got the hell out of that store.
Needless to say, I felt like a complete loser that day.
Now when I was in school I always hated going to the front of the class, or standing at my desk to do a book report. I would stammer over my words and sometimes miss a word, or half-a-dozen.
Add to this the fact that, aside from the original blog post I'd written, I didn't have any sort of planned presentation and had to make one up from scratch with about three days notice -- I was contacted on Monday evening of that week and had three whole days to come up with a presentation of some kind.
I also spent a good deal of that time consulting several websites and online videos that dealt with the art of public speaking and tricks to get through it.
Finally after burning the midnight oil well past my usual bedtime the day before, I was able to finally come up with a presentation outline, some printed photos, and various stories about Black Confederate Veterans from South Carolina and their service.
Now I had one final question: what to wear?
According to all the sites I consulted, physical appearance is a huge thing when it comes to offering a presentation. While I am no fan of judging one based on their physical appearance and manner of dress, I had no serious plans to go in wearing one of my usual rock band t-shirts and camouflage cargo pants -- I'm certain one of my Hawaiian shirts would probably not go over well in terms of my presentation either.
I did briefly consider donning my Confederate gray uniform and kepi hat, but ultimately rejected that idea as a bit too showy. I did however have every intention of presenting my support for Confederate heritage in my appearance. I did include the kepi as part of my presentation, along with my wide-brim brown uniform hat.
I finally decided that I would go with a clean pair of blue jeans, a white button-up, my gray sports coat, and black tennis shoes. On my jacket I wore a white lapel pin featuring two very small Dixie Cross battle flags. I also wore my belt with the Confederate battle flag buckle.
I had maybe about six hours of decent sleep before waking up the next morning and heading out, completely anxious about the events to come. I stopped for a couple of sausage biscuits and an orange juice before driving nearly forty miles to my destination, an undisclosed middle school in upstate South Carolina, arriving a little bit before 9 A.M.
After I arrived, I had to be buzzed in through the school's front door and get a visitor's pass at the front office. A school resource officer greeted me and asked to check my carry bag politely.
Now here is where I was concerned if I would have had issues.
If the man had requested that I remove my lapel pin (my belt buckle was hidden behind my then buttoned jacket at the time), in all honesty, I would have left right then and there -- partly out of strict principle, and also partly because I was beginning to get butterflies in my stomach over the whole thing. There was a folded Army of Northern Virginia patterned battle flag in my bag, along with a couple of folders of papers and notes for the presentation. Again, if I had been asked to surrender it, I would have politely declined and left on principle.
Thankfully neither the resource officer, nor any of the teaching staff made such a request. In fact everyone was quite polite to me. Also it wasn't as if I planned on running down the hallways waving a Confederate battle flag in the first place.
The teacher who invited me appeared and also seemed pleased to meet me. We'll call her Miss G because she kinda reminded me a little bit of Miss Grotke, the teacher from the cartoon series Disney's Recess -- and I mean that as a complement. We engaged in a little small-talk (something else I'm not really good at for the most part) and she told me about the students and how much she enjoyed reading the history posts on my blog, especially my Revolutionary War stuff.
Miss G led me to her classroom where she told me two of her history classes were going to gather. That one threw me off a bit. Two?! At the same time?! She informed me that the other class usually had study hall time, but that the ones that wanted to see the presentation were going to be present.
The classroom had a whiteboard with my name written on the left side with a list of daily activities. I saw that I was slated for the 3rd and 4th period classes. Miss G had already provided me a table and a chair for me to set up. There was also a class already there full of middle school kids talking loudly and getting ready to go to their next class. The bell rang and they left, giving me a few quiet minutes to set up.
Quiet being a relative term. The hallway outside the open doorway was full of teenagers talking loudly and laughing. I was beginning to feel a little more anxious. I focused on preparation. I placed the flag (which is about 20 inches square) on top of the table, then started arranging the papers and photos on top of them as a display. Then I set some personal notes aside and sat going over them as the students came in. A few of them came over and looked at the stuff on the table, including a small display box with a few Civil War era bullets -- which turned out to be a bit hit with a few of the students, as was my replica gray kepi that included the black cockade with the Confederate uniform button.
For my part after making sure my notes were in order -- all five pages worth -- I sat there in the chair and kinda closed my eyes in an effort to center myself. Miss G did ask me politely if I was okay, and then told me that she recognized my symptoms being the mother of an Aspie child herself, and a nearly 20 year teaching veteran. I gave a smile and assured her I was okay, and adjusting; though I was being slightly less than honest. I took a deep drink of the bottle water I brought with me and then looked at the assembled students -- all 47 of them. I counted each row and the ones sitting in the back in chairs, apparently from the other class she mentioned.
All-too-soon, the bell rang and the class period began. Miss G called the class to order and talked to the students as I sat there, looking out over at the faces. Book report flashbacks were coming to me BIGTIME now. I remember unbuttoning my coat in an effort to relax a bit more. My white shirt was a bit sweaty under my armpits -- thankfully I have good deodorant and was wearing plenty of aftershave! I also noticed my hand was shaking a tiny bit. I took a few deep (though not overtly obvious) breaths to calm myself and focus on the task at hand.
I barely remember Miss G actually introducing me, though I do remember her telling one students -- a boy named Gerald -- to stand up. It was the young man who wrote the original report on Black Confederate Veterans. I gave the young man a small nod and a grin.
A moment later, the floor was mine and the class applauded politely. I stood and went over to the front of the whiteboard. I bit my lip and then cleared my throat trying to remember what I'd read about public speaking.
I started out making a small personal joke at my expense apologizing to the students for the glare, and rubbing the top of my shaved bald head. That got a laugh from the students and a chuckle and encouraging nod from Miss G. I started to feel a bit more relaxed and then asked if everyone could hear me properly. After being assured by the kids in the back they could hear my usually quiet voice, launched into the subject of Black Confederate Veterans and their service in the war.
One of the things I really worried about was my usual tone of voice. I know that I don't have a really good public speaking voice. I also tend to sound sarcastic at times when I don't intend to -- a problem I've had my whole life also slightly related to the autism spectrum.
I was also concerned that the topic would bore most of the students since it mostly concerned men (and at least one woman) who spent much of the War Between The States preforming service tasks with occasional combat service -- particularly the drummers who stood with their units in battle. In the few instances of actual combat I described where one of the subjects actually carried a weapon, or picked one up and joined the fight, I made certain to convey to the students that no war is any sort of adventure; and I certainly wasn't shy on describing the possible fates of those left wounded in battle.
On an interesting note during my presentation a few more students (likely the ones who decided to opt out of study hall) and a couple of teachers arrived and also joined us. These mostly sat, or stood, in the back quietly to hear what I was saying.
I finished my presentation off by telling the students that the men who served on both sides in the war deserved to be remembered respectfully as individuals with dreams of their own. That their memories and the history they were a part of helped to define the nation and the people we are and strive to be today.
After what felt like about forty hours (but in reality was about 35 minutes, or less) I was finally off this roller-coaster ride, having survived my first real public speaking engagement.
When I concluded, I was once again applauded. I opened the floor to questions, and got about a dozen of them from curious students asking about specific people I mentioned in the presentation, or general ones about Black Confederate Veterans, or the United States Colored Troops. Overall, the students surprisingly asked some really intelligent questions. More than a few came up to the table to look at the pictures and the displays I brought. I was asked questions about the bullets, the replica Confederate uniform, and certainly about the Confederate battle flag itself -- all of which I was really happy to answer.
When the bell rang, the students left to go to their next classes, or to the first lunch period. As I put away my stuff, Miss G personally thanked me for my time and congratulated me on getting through the presentation. She knew it wasn't easy for me, but told me that I did very well. I almost felt as if I was one of her students who just gave a report. She was truly a kind woman.
Now at this point I expected to simply leave, but Miss G and one of the other teachers invited me to stay long enough to join them at the Teacher's table in the cafeteria for lunch -- my reward for the good job I'd done. They also gave me $20 for gas money for the distance I'd traveled, and which I readily admit I didn't try all that hard to decline.
So in the end I found myself sitting in a noisy cafeteria with several middle school teachers enjoying school cafeteria food, something that I hadn't had in roughly half a century. I enjoyed the meal, which turned out to be baked chicken and vegetables with a fruit cup and milk. I got a laugh from Miss G and the teachers when, during the small-talk I managed to get through somehow, I confessed that I was disappointed to learn that the schools don't still make what I half-jokingly refer to as that rectangular "cheese on cardboard" pizza that my generation was privileged to have. I mean I get that the new menus are meant to be slightly healthier in terms of nutritional value, but still I feel this generation is totally missing out.
That my friends and fellow travelers is the story of my first public speaking presentation, and how I barely overcame and survived my social anxiety disorder -- at least this time around. In all seriousness though, I truly enjoyed speaking to the students and teachers and sharing my knowledge with them.
Would I be anxious for a repeat performance anytime in the near future? Uh, well....let me get back to y'all on that one. For now, have a wonderful Dixie day and y'all come on back now, ya hear?
Apparently my humble defense of Confederate veterans of color and dissection of the arguments of Black Confederate Deniers has garnered a number of rather spirited debates on several other blogs and Civil War sites. It is currently the second-most viewed article on my blog with a whopping 28,903 hits to date! Certainly it has garnered more hits in a vastly shorter amount of time than the current record keeper -- not too bad at all.
My article has received wide praise of many of my peers in the Southern heritage defense community, and deafening silence from several "history" bloggers (sic) who make a living off the denial and denigration of non-white Confederate veterans -- my reputation as The Man Deniers Fear The Most is still secure apparently.
Well, not total silence from the Denier community.
Civil War Talk website devoted an forum on the discussion of my blog post. The discussion went on for a couple weeks apparently with both sides taking vigorously debating the points of my blog post. Those defending black Confederate veterans made some outstanding points, and those who support the Denier's argument were....uh, predictable, though made respectfully for once. My complements on the moderators who run the site for keeping the discussions civil. The site definitely gets four stars.
I was also deeply honored to receive a short personal review from none other than Mr. Tony Horwitz, Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and author of Confederates In The Attic (1998). Sadly, Mr. Horwitz passed away on May 27th, about two weeks after I received his message. I will always be thankful that a man like Mr. Horwitz took the time to message a simple small-town country writer like yours truly -- I'm actually getting goosebumps as I write this.
All-in-all, not too bad for a guy from a small town in upstate South Carolina who blogs about local history, amateur astronomy, and various assorted other topics and travel photography.
So imagine my surprise when I was contacted a month after posting my article by a middle school history teacher who asked if I would like to come talk to her class about my article and the subject of Black Southerners from South Carolina who were loyal to Dixie and fought for the Confederacy.
Apparently one of her students wrote a history paper on the subject and sited my article as a primary source. She informed me that the paper was so well received by the rest of the class that she had to contact me. When the teacher found out I was local (within 50 miles or so relative to where I live), she asked if I would consent to come speak about the subject to two of her history classes the following Friday.
When I received her message, I accepted the offer -- although right afterwards I did kinda start to have second, and third thoughts about the whole thing.
You see folks, I do not do well with public speaking at all. In fact speaking in front of crowds of any size always makes me extremely nervous.
A part of this comes from my personal Autism spectrum issues, notably my inability to really look people in the eyes for more than a second, or so; as well as social anxieties and my lack of ability to mentally filter out noises -- meaning that in crowds of people talking I cannot focus on one voice, or conversation, and get all the sounds overlapping. It can be extremely stressful and why I largely avoid big indoor crowds for extended periods of time.
Whenever I go to a place like an outdoor fair, or comic con, I usually try to attend early, or on days when the events are not so big. I feel a bit claustrophobic when the crowds start getting larger, and more often than not I have to go someplace by myself for a few minutes, just long enough to be away from people and crown noise to center myself again.
It actually turns out that my condition isn't that uncommon, especially for people on the autism spectrum. Avoiding eye contact, awkward with small-talk, displaying introverted behavior -- all me. Most times I usually manage very well, and have only rarely ever had a severe panic attack.
The absolute worst panic attack I've ever had was about seven years ago in a large shopping center that I'd never been in before in a neighboring county with my grandmother Carolyn (God rest her soul!) and youngest brother, Alex. It was a few weeks before Christmas and the store was packed full of loud people, even louder little kids that seemed to love testing the acoustics in the store with their little voices, and a very loud female voice on the PA system that went off seemingly every 30 seconds, or a minute. It was the first time I'd ever just shut down. Normally, I'd just leave the cart and walk outside to the parking lot and let myself calm down. This time, I literally sat on a bench in the men's shoe isle and closed my eyes, shaking and breathing erratically. I apologized to my family and told them I would be in the car waiting -- and promptly got the hell out of that store.
Needless to say, I felt like a complete loser that day.
Now when I was in school I always hated going to the front of the class, or standing at my desk to do a book report. I would stammer over my words and sometimes miss a word, or half-a-dozen.
Add to this the fact that, aside from the original blog post I'd written, I didn't have any sort of planned presentation and had to make one up from scratch with about three days notice -- I was contacted on Monday evening of that week and had three whole days to come up with a presentation of some kind.
I also spent a good deal of that time consulting several websites and online videos that dealt with the art of public speaking and tricks to get through it.
Finally after burning the midnight oil well past my usual bedtime the day before, I was able to finally come up with a presentation outline, some printed photos, and various stories about Black Confederate Veterans from South Carolina and their service.
Now I had one final question: what to wear?
According to all the sites I consulted, physical appearance is a huge thing when it comes to offering a presentation. While I am no fan of judging one based on their physical appearance and manner of dress, I had no serious plans to go in wearing one of my usual rock band t-shirts and camouflage cargo pants -- I'm certain one of my Hawaiian shirts would probably not go over well in terms of my presentation either.
I did briefly consider donning my Confederate gray uniform and kepi hat, but ultimately rejected that idea as a bit too showy. I did however have every intention of presenting my support for Confederate heritage in my appearance. I did include the kepi as part of my presentation, along with my wide-brim brown uniform hat.
I finally decided that I would go with a clean pair of blue jeans, a white button-up, my gray sports coat, and black tennis shoes. On my jacket I wore a white lapel pin featuring two very small Dixie Cross battle flags. I also wore my belt with the Confederate battle flag buckle.
I had maybe about six hours of decent sleep before waking up the next morning and heading out, completely anxious about the events to come. I stopped for a couple of sausage biscuits and an orange juice before driving nearly forty miles to my destination, an undisclosed middle school in upstate South Carolina, arriving a little bit before 9 A.M.
After I arrived, I had to be buzzed in through the school's front door and get a visitor's pass at the front office. A school resource officer greeted me and asked to check my carry bag politely.
Now here is where I was concerned if I would have had issues.
If the man had requested that I remove my lapel pin (my belt buckle was hidden behind my then buttoned jacket at the time), in all honesty, I would have left right then and there -- partly out of strict principle, and also partly because I was beginning to get butterflies in my stomach over the whole thing. There was a folded Army of Northern Virginia patterned battle flag in my bag, along with a couple of folders of papers and notes for the presentation. Again, if I had been asked to surrender it, I would have politely declined and left on principle.
Thankfully neither the resource officer, nor any of the teaching staff made such a request. In fact everyone was quite polite to me. Also it wasn't as if I planned on running down the hallways waving a Confederate battle flag in the first place.
The teacher who invited me appeared and also seemed pleased to meet me. We'll call her Miss G because she kinda reminded me a little bit of Miss Grotke, the teacher from the cartoon series Disney's Recess -- and I mean that as a complement. We engaged in a little small-talk (something else I'm not really good at for the most part) and she told me about the students and how much she enjoyed reading the history posts on my blog, especially my Revolutionary War stuff.
Miss G led me to her classroom where she told me two of her history classes were going to gather. That one threw me off a bit. Two?! At the same time?! She informed me that the other class usually had study hall time, but that the ones that wanted to see the presentation were going to be present.
The classroom had a whiteboard with my name written on the left side with a list of daily activities. I saw that I was slated for the 3rd and 4th period classes. Miss G had already provided me a table and a chair for me to set up. There was also a class already there full of middle school kids talking loudly and getting ready to go to their next class. The bell rang and they left, giving me a few quiet minutes to set up.
Quiet being a relative term. The hallway outside the open doorway was full of teenagers talking loudly and laughing. I was beginning to feel a little more anxious. I focused on preparation. I placed the flag (which is about 20 inches square) on top of the table, then started arranging the papers and photos on top of them as a display. Then I set some personal notes aside and sat going over them as the students came in. A few of them came over and looked at the stuff on the table, including a small display box with a few Civil War era bullets -- which turned out to be a bit hit with a few of the students, as was my replica gray kepi that included the black cockade with the Confederate uniform button.
For my part after making sure my notes were in order -- all five pages worth -- I sat there in the chair and kinda closed my eyes in an effort to center myself. Miss G did ask me politely if I was okay, and then told me that she recognized my symptoms being the mother of an Aspie child herself, and a nearly 20 year teaching veteran. I gave a smile and assured her I was okay, and adjusting; though I was being slightly less than honest. I took a deep drink of the bottle water I brought with me and then looked at the assembled students -- all 47 of them. I counted each row and the ones sitting in the back in chairs, apparently from the other class she mentioned.
All-too-soon, the bell rang and the class period began. Miss G called the class to order and talked to the students as I sat there, looking out over at the faces. Book report flashbacks were coming to me BIGTIME now. I remember unbuttoning my coat in an effort to relax a bit more. My white shirt was a bit sweaty under my armpits -- thankfully I have good deodorant and was wearing plenty of aftershave! I also noticed my hand was shaking a tiny bit. I took a few deep (though not overtly obvious) breaths to calm myself and focus on the task at hand.
I barely remember Miss G actually introducing me, though I do remember her telling one students -- a boy named Gerald -- to stand up. It was the young man who wrote the original report on Black Confederate Veterans. I gave the young man a small nod and a grin.
A moment later, the floor was mine and the class applauded politely. I stood and went over to the front of the whiteboard. I bit my lip and then cleared my throat trying to remember what I'd read about public speaking.
I started out making a small personal joke at my expense apologizing to the students for the glare, and rubbing the top of my shaved bald head. That got a laugh from the students and a chuckle and encouraging nod from Miss G. I started to feel a bit more relaxed and then asked if everyone could hear me properly. After being assured by the kids in the back they could hear my usually quiet voice, launched into the subject of Black Confederate Veterans and their service in the war.
One of the things I really worried about was my usual tone of voice. I know that I don't have a really good public speaking voice. I also tend to sound sarcastic at times when I don't intend to -- a problem I've had my whole life also slightly related to the autism spectrum.
I was also concerned that the topic would bore most of the students since it mostly concerned men (and at least one woman) who spent much of the War Between The States preforming service tasks with occasional combat service -- particularly the drummers who stood with their units in battle. In the few instances of actual combat I described where one of the subjects actually carried a weapon, or picked one up and joined the fight, I made certain to convey to the students that no war is any sort of adventure; and I certainly wasn't shy on describing the possible fates of those left wounded in battle.
On an interesting note during my presentation a few more students (likely the ones who decided to opt out of study hall) and a couple of teachers arrived and also joined us. These mostly sat, or stood, in the back quietly to hear what I was saying.
I finished my presentation off by telling the students that the men who served on both sides in the war deserved to be remembered respectfully as individuals with dreams of their own. That their memories and the history they were a part of helped to define the nation and the people we are and strive to be today.
After what felt like about forty hours (but in reality was about 35 minutes, or less) I was finally off this roller-coaster ride, having survived my first real public speaking engagement.
When I concluded, I was once again applauded. I opened the floor to questions, and got about a dozen of them from curious students asking about specific people I mentioned in the presentation, or general ones about Black Confederate Veterans, or the United States Colored Troops. Overall, the students surprisingly asked some really intelligent questions. More than a few came up to the table to look at the pictures and the displays I brought. I was asked questions about the bullets, the replica Confederate uniform, and certainly about the Confederate battle flag itself -- all of which I was really happy to answer.
When the bell rang, the students left to go to their next classes, or to the first lunch period. As I put away my stuff, Miss G personally thanked me for my time and congratulated me on getting through the presentation. She knew it wasn't easy for me, but told me that I did very well. I almost felt as if I was one of her students who just gave a report. She was truly a kind woman.
Now at this point I expected to simply leave, but Miss G and one of the other teachers invited me to stay long enough to join them at the Teacher's table in the cafeteria for lunch -- my reward for the good job I'd done. They also gave me $20 for gas money for the distance I'd traveled, and which I readily admit I didn't try all that hard to decline.
So in the end I found myself sitting in a noisy cafeteria with several middle school teachers enjoying school cafeteria food, something that I hadn't had in roughly half a century. I enjoyed the meal, which turned out to be baked chicken and vegetables with a fruit cup and milk. I got a laugh from Miss G and the teachers when, during the small-talk I managed to get through somehow, I confessed that I was disappointed to learn that the schools don't still make what I half-jokingly refer to as that rectangular "cheese on cardboard" pizza that my generation was privileged to have. I mean I get that the new menus are meant to be slightly healthier in terms of nutritional value, but still I feel this generation is totally missing out.
 |
| RIP Cafeteria food of my misspent youth! |
That my friends and fellow travelers is the story of my first public speaking presentation, and how I barely overcame and survived my social anxiety disorder -- at least this time around. In all seriousness though, I truly enjoyed speaking to the students and teachers and sharing my knowledge with them.
Would I be anxious for a repeat performance anytime in the near future? Uh, well....let me get back to y'all on that one. For now, have a wonderful Dixie day and y'all come on back now, ya hear?
