Kenlif Garcias Post 1

    Imagine it’s a Monday morning. You wake up and prepare your 11am breakfast and get ready to start your day. You then remember there is a presentation due the next morning, you spit out your coffee and rush to the computer to do your research on the topic and prepare a presentation so that you don’t fail the class. Well, I believe that was most of us in the class. That said, allow me to paint a picture in your head about my experience of the day of presentation and the day after with highly copious amounts of sarcasm.

    Tuesday. Tuesday is the day, and I am up late. Tuesday is the day my phone decided to troll me. Tuesday is the day my alarm did not ring (It did, but I didn’t hear it.) I rush out of bed and enter the zoom meeting. I was not late; I woke up early and then my phone rang. I was having a dream.

    It is now presentation time. Group one, chapters one through four. The first speaker begins the presentation and looks extremely confident and well prepared; I panic. I don’t feel prepared. I listen to the speaker and take mental notes on how he is presenting, the way he speaks, the way expresses himself and the nonchalant body language. I feel enlightened. I can also be like him.

    Forty-five minutes later, group one is still presenting, and I am struggling to make my presentation last more than three minutes (I need at least five minutes so that my other group members don’t need to pick up my slack.) I begin writing a script to follow in order to extend my time presenting and still get the information across without sounding like a robot or becoming Groot from Guardians of The Galaxy but can only speak in “umms.” It is now time for group two, and I start profusely sweating so I proceed to go to the sink and empty out the bucket of sweat I just filled.
    
    The time is nigh. Am I ready? Can I win this battle? Can I survive this? All the questions run through my head as the battle nears. It is me against an audience, some half asleep, others unnervingly attentive. I must fight. I must win. I then proceed to fidget, bounce my leg up and down and rehearse more scenarios in my head than Dr. Strange fighting Thanos. I then began to realize that we can take tips from the presentations before us. I lean forward in my chair and begin to pay even more attention to the presenters. I will be ready; I will beat the evil Sherri Sinkoff and her evil army of watchful students.

*1.22 dog years later*
The time has come. The previous group has finished, and I am primed for failure, or am I?

    The presentation begins and my fellow soldier absolutely crushes her part and passes the baton to me. I am now faced with a weakened enemy, exhausted by the efforts of their previous battles. I must prey on this opportunity. I begin to read my script as planned. The enemy never expected me to have a script. However, I came to the realization that I--I was my own enemy. I lost my ability to read. Standing there, I fall to my knees with the feeling of utter failure knowing that I have failed. I have failed my classmates, my group, the professor, but most of all, I failed myself. As the light began to turn bleak, sounds began to fade and my vision began to fog, I witnessed a bright light. It was rising from far in the distance. It was so bright it blinded the sun. Adrenaline began to rush through my weakened body, and I began to stand back up. The crowd gasped at the realization that I was not done. I was not defeated. The battle had not ended, it had merely just started. I gained a new ability, which I will name “IMPROVISATION.” Standing there, tall, and strong, I continued my presentation and fought the evil Sinkoff army off and prevailed. Five or six minutes later, I wiped the field clean. The evil army retreated, and I was left there, wiping tears of joy off my face, and screaming off the top of my lungs at the light in the distance, tirelessly thanking it for giving me this opportunity to flourish. I fought off the Sinkoff army and lived to fight another day. After the light vanished, me, all wounded and clothes all torn, handed the baton off to my fellow soldier and classmate and said, internally, “it is your turn now. Make me proud. May you see the light the same way I did.” I threw myself on the floor and laid there with my eyes closed. My time is over. I must now watch others flourish in the presence of the bright and mighty light.

    The aftermath. After the battle was over and the minutes passed by, and as battles were fought and won continuously in front of my eyes I realized something very important. We had all witnessed greatness. From group one to group 3, we all showed the elders that we were ready for battle and earned our stripes. One of the most enlightening moments in our life had just gone by and we were all better for it. Better speakers, better listeners, and better presenters. I, and I believe that I speak for the others as well, that this was a great day and one of the most enjoyable presentations we have seen in the span of our lives. I look forward to the next and wish that I can fight Sherri Sinkoff and her army once again and have a battle worthy of the ages.

This story is now over. The speaker turned evil listener, Sherri Sinkoff, taught happily ever after and continued to create great speakers of young, unsuspecting students and now they all share a laugh whenever they face off. I enjoyed the presentations, and I am certain I will enjoy the rest.