I stood in front of the snaggled tooth sixth grade class ready to give my dreaded oral report on beavers. I was terrified. One after the other of my classmates gave their speeches and with each passing one I became more and more nervous. The fact that I really had to go to the bathroom did not help calm my nerves. The teacher was calling students at random and with each passing speech I felt for sure I’d be next. Part of me just wanted to get it over and wished Mrs. Lee would hurry up and call me. Another part kept hoping the bell would ring and I could put off my terror for one more day. Finally, I got the hook. It was my turn. Time to stand in front of all those kids who didn’t even like me and show the efforts of my research. I knew I had a good report. I was sure the teacher would like it. She was my favorite teacher and I was sure she liked me too. As I approached the front of the room to take my place in front of the dusty blackboard, I tried to put my fears to rest. I was reassuring myself I would do fine. At least I had that old brown podium to stand behind. I would not be totally vulnerable. My urge to go to the bathroom was steadily growing and now that I had finally stood up it seemed much worse than when I was sitting at my comfortable desk. I took my place and began my speech. The words were coming better than I had once expected, but I was becoming uncomfortable - Not at the giggles or bored to death faces. No, my problem was coming from within. Not low self esteem or fear of failure. No I wished those were the problems because I could talk my self through and deal with those issues. My problem was biological. I squirmed and wiggled behind the supportive lecture stand. It seemed as if I was dancing with it. I swayed back and forth and crossed my legs and squeezed tight. Nothing was helping. I just couldn’t hold it anymore. I knew the harshness of those kids. I felt it many times before. I didn’t want them to know about my dilemma, but finally I couldn’t stand it any longer. Half way through my report I stopped talking about beavers, building dams, and rushing riverbeds and just said…“I got to pee!” I ran out of the class and straight to the bathroom and heard a roar of laughter all the way down the hall. The rest of my school years and even through college I never gave a speech without going to the bathroom beforehand. And, since the worst had already happened I was never as nervous. I will always remember my sixth grade surprise.
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