[On Success] Spirit[关于成功]在精神上

“Xuhhhh Yuhhhh Zuhhhhh!” The entire gym was in an uproar — students were stomping on the bleachers and cheering as Falen, the first candidate for Crossroads South’s recording secretary, finished burping the ABCs.  As soon as Falen took her seat, I got up from mine and walked the five feet to the podium.  “And now our next candidate for recording secretary,” our principal announced.  As I stood on the podium and adjusted the microphone, I wondered, what had I gotten myself into?  How could I possibly compete for votes with someone who had just burped the ABCs in front of a thousand people?  Trying to calm myself down, I thought of what I was supposed to do.  In my head, I heard my mother tell me: “Remember to speak loudly!”  Latching onto the one thing I knew, I leaned into the microphone and declared: “MY NAME IS LAUREN DAI!” as loudly as I could.  It was just like in those cartoons when a character screams and the other character is blown back, hair a-fly.  Everyone cringed backwards from the blaring speakers, as the secretary, hands over her ears, spun the volume knob down as fast as she could.  Cheeks burning, I realized I had just shattered the eardrums of the entire school population.  But there was no way I could stop now — turning away from the podium and sitting down would be worse.  And so I plowed through the rest of my speech, at a normal volume, to the relief of my classmates.

From that day on, it seemed like 6th grade lasted a decade.  I felt like I was constantly being mocked for my fiasco of a speech.  For the next two years of middle school, 7th and 8th grades, I sat in the bleachers as I watched others make their speeches for office.  Sitting in the bleachers, I felt simultaneously relieved and frustrated: relieved because there was no chance I could embarrass myself as an invisible member of the audience, but frustrated because there was no chance that I would ever gain any recognition either.  By my freshman year of high school, I decided that it was time to cure myself of this disease, and so I joined Model UN, a club that involves public speaking and debate.  The first year, I forced myself to run for treasurer of MUN.  I lost.  I did not feel so bad about losing though, as I was more proud of myself for having the courage to be the only freshman to run for office and make a speech in front of the whole club.  My first triumph came sophomore year, as I gave a speech for my candidacy as the new Director of Recruitment and won.  As a sophomore, I was now the only non-senior officer.  The same year, I attended my first MUN conference.  It was definitely an intimidating experience, as at the conference, I was compelled to give extemporaneous speeches in front of a hundred people plus two chairs who were judging me for awards.  I did not win an award, but I did not let that aspect discourage me.  In fact, as a rising junior and the only non-graduating officer, I decided I would give a speech to run for president.  I won.  As a junior then, I had officers reporting to me who were seniors.  The biggest triumph in my speech making career, however, came at the PhilMUN 2008 conference my junior year, when I was awarded the highest possible award: Best Delegation.  Grasping the heavy wooden plaque in my hand, I knew that I was officially cured.  Looking back on my public speaking experience, however, the one thing I am most proud of is neither my award nor my position as president, but the fact that I had the spirit to keep trying despite being crushed before.  That is why spirit is my favorite word: to me, it embodies the courage to keep going in spite of failure, the quality that I admire the most in others and in myself.

“Xuhhhh Yuhhhh Zuhhhhh!” 整个体育馆里一片哗然 –在看台上学生们的跺脚和欢呼声中，第一个Crossroads South的记录秘书的候选人Falen 完成了她的演说。Falen刚刚落座，我起了身，走向5尺外的讲台。“现在，有请我们的下一位记录秘书候选人” 我们的校长宣布着。当我站在讲台上，调整了话筒，我不知道我该怎么调整我的状态。我如何和刚刚成功激励了1000多人的人竞争选票？我试着让自己冷静下来，想着此时我该做的。在我脑海中，我听到我妈妈在对我说：“记得大声的说出你的想法！”记得这点之后，我靠近了麦克风，尽我的可能大声的说：“我的名字是Lauren Dai!”就像卡通里那些人物大声的说话以至于吹得别人人仰马翻头发纷飞一样。每个人都被高音喇叭发出的声音震的后退，秘书甚至以最快的速度捂住了他的耳朵，关低了麦克风的音量。我脸红了, 意识到我刚刚震坏了场下所有同学的耳膜，但既已至此，我已无退路，终止讲座回到座位只会使得情况更糟，所以我还是继续着我的讲话，用一种正常的声音，希望慰藉刚刚被我造成伤害的同学们。
那天起，似乎我的六年级持续了十年一样长。我觉得我这次演讲的惨败被我的同学们嘲笑了很久。接下来两年的中学里， 也就是第七年级和第八年级，我总是坐在长凳上，看着别人为了竞选职位而演讲。做在凳子上的我既感到挫败也感到宽慰：我感到宽慰因为我不会再有机会让我自己如此难堪，感到挫败因为我将不会再有获得他人肯定的机会。在我高中的第一年里，我觉得是时候治愈我这种胆怯的毛病了，所以我加入了Model UN，一个锻炼公共演讲和辩论的社团。第一年我强迫自己参加MUN的财务竞选，我虽然输了, 但是我并没有感到太失落，因为我为自己作为唯一的一位新生竞选这样的一个管理层的职位，在全俱乐部面前做演讲感到骄傲。我的第一次成功在第二年的时候到来了，当时我做了一个演讲，竞选新的招聘负责人，我赢了。我现在是最年轻的管理层成员了。同一年里，我参加了我第一次的MUN的议会，这是一次令人生畏的经历。因为在会议上,我需要在一百多人面前做即席发言，其中还有两位主席，会决定我是否可以获得奖项。尽管最后我没有得奖，但是我也没有让这打击我的信心。事实上，作为一名高三新生，也是作为唯一的一名非研究生管理层成员，我决定去试着再去竞选一下主席。我赢了。作为一名高三学生，有很多的高四学生向我汇报着工作。当然我的演讲最成功的一次并不是此，而是在2008年的PhiMUN 议会上，当时我高三，我被授予了最高的荣誉： 最佳代表团奖项。握着手中沉重的木质奖牌，我知道我已经被正式治愈了。回首我的公共演讲经历，奖项和主席职位并不是我唯一感到骄傲的地方，而是那种屡败屡战的精神。这也是为什么“意志力”是我最爱的词汇：对我来说，它包含着战胜失败的勇气，这是我最欣赏别人的，也是我自己最喜欢的精神品质。