Inspirational Speaker

“… today’s the day I change.”

Standing on the stage in the school’s auditorium, I watched as 300 visibly bored Sixth Formers roll their eyes as I said that last sentence of the speech. Cheesy, I know. Don’t worry, I’m not offended. I don’t blame them at all. I’m not so old that I don’t remember what it was like during Sixth Form. Hell, I’d probably be hiding in the bathroom right about now.

I would roll my eyes too if I wasn’t supposed to be a “model figure.” I’ve recited this speech over several hundred million times over the course of last year.

‘Talk about your exceptional journey to where you are now. Encourage them to find their own path. It’s not too late to start something new.’

It’s not my fault schools just love getting “inspirational” people to speak to their students. And what can I say? Coming here and giving some petty little speech pays good.

It’s all just the same old bullshit anyways. And just because they’re teenagers, doesn’t mean they don’t know how the world works. If they give a shit, they would be doing something about it. But they probably won’t tell the school because schools love exploiting students for their own gain. Put it on the school website and give the illusion that the school is great and provide support to students.  

And the students that don’t give a shit; I can honestly say I respect the fact that they’re just living their best life. Because when you’re an angsty teenager, having someone explicitly tell you what to do makes you feel resistant against it. You would just not do it to spite the person. They’re not mindless zombies after all. Though they might as well be with how schools condition them to just get the best grades so they can get into the best university and be successful.

Sorry to break it to you, but it doesn’t work that way. Sometimes, the way these teachers talk about career paths really makes me wonder if they came from a different planet. Like please enlighten me about which planet makes it so easy to be successful just by going to a so called “good” university. But then I remembered these teachers are also the ones that are probably just salty because they have been teaching teenagers in state schools for a gazillion years. So maybe it’s not entirely their fault that they think going to Oxford or Cambridge is the only path to a good life.

Thank fuck the much-too-old headmistress finally climbed her way up to end my torture behind the scratched lectern. As the students gave a round of unenthusiastic applause, I suppressed the yawn threatening to expose my smiley, positive façade. I don’t feel like getting fired… yet. Faking a smile, I pretended to be grateful and happy about talking to a bunch of 16, 17 year olds that would much rather be home and antisocial after a day of unpleasant interactions with school teachers. Trust me, I feel the same.

Down the stairs, I went to the seat reserved for me. Front row. Great. Apparently, Mrs. Hillsby, I think that’s her name, wanted me to stay afterwards so she can thank me and ask me something about some kind of student activity. Only I’m capable of getting detention three years after graduating from the hell we call college.

The bell rang. Announcements were made. Students were dismissed. Loud chatter about how shit the teachers are, someone doing it behind the bleachers and all the strangest things fainted into a deadly silence. Tapping my fingers together, I looked up and forced my lips upwards as that white-haired devil made her way over to me. I stood up and towered over her frail body.

“Thank you so much for talking to the students. I think they really enjoyed that, I certainly did.”

I bet you did. The old teachers always did. I genuinely don’t know how they think my speech is entertaining and good for students. I can put myself to sleep just by thinking about it.

She continued, “I was wondering if you could return next week to host a workshop for the students. Perhaps something like writing down a plan for the next five years?”

Oh fuck my fucking life.  

No offense, but is this woman is so out of touch that she thinks students would actually show up for the workshop? What teenager wants to sit in a classroom with some weird older person, planning their next five years on a Friday afternoon? They wanna be home, or hanging out with their friends because who knows if they’ll see each other when they go to university in a year or so. Do schools really expect students to have time to plan their life after university while handing them prep after prep every single day? Like what the fuck man. Students are not robots; they can’t just work 24/7. And then you tell them to “take some time off,” like it’s easy. Schools are such hypocrites.

And to be perfectly honest, I don’t want to be sitting in a classroom with a bunch of emo teenagers on a Friday afternoon either. I could be auditioning for a movie or building connections at this event my friend invited me to.

What do teachers think success is really? Being happy? Doing a job that you like? And what about money? I know they certainly don’t grow on trees. If life was so easy, I wouldn’t be here in a school, giving a dumb speech about how to be successful. I’d be on Broadway, singing and dancing to my favourite musical. But the reality is I can’t make money off of being an aspiring actress. People need money to survive. And so far, the easiest way to do it is by doing this. And if I can make extra money just by showing up to a classroom and sitting there for an hour, I’ll do it.  

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

My GCSE teacher would have been so goddamn proud of the performance I’m putting on.