Catching Idle Butterflies

Another speech, but without the twitch

WARNING! Lengthy blog entry ahead!

I just realized after reading my previous entry, I never stated how much time had passed between my speech class and the one I gave in front of junior high students.

Let’s just say it’s enough to where I’ll have to do some math, and I’m too lazy to figure it right now!

A year after I received my Land Surveyor’s license, I was invited to speak in front of these three junior high classes to talk about how a woman works in career field populated mostly by men.

Two others were also invited: a female engineer and a male nurse.

The North Dakota Board of Registration for Engineers and Land Surveyors recommended me because I’m the second woman to be registered in that state.

I’ll admit other people (especially my family) care about that more than I do. So even though I agreed to give a speech, I didn’t know how to approach it. I could have done it one of two ways. I could preach in front of 12-14 year olds about the importance not to judge people by their gender, and if you’re a girl, not to let boys, men, or society in general say you can’t accomplish something because you’re a girl, blah, blah, blah.

The very idea made my mouth go sour. I’ve always seen my gender as irrelevant to my career. I succeeded in becoming a land surveyor because I loved it, I was good at it, and it’s what I wanted. I earned my license by working hard and for no other reason. I figured the very fact I stood up in front of those students was proof enough a woman can succeed in a male dominated profession. But the other reason I wanted to avoid taking this approach is because I knew I would lose their interest inside five minutes. If I didn’t care about how being a woman has influenced my career choices (or not), how am I going to convince anyone else? Besides, I figured at that age, they get tired of preachy adults.

I wanted to make this interesting and fun, and the way to do that was to talk about my passion. That passion is not just land surveying in general, and how much fun it can be, but to stress the importance of concentrating on those core courses such as math and English.

So with my theme figured out, I wrote my speech which included a bit of history (I may place it in my portfolio if you’re interested, but it needs much editing first). I also made some pamphlets of what land surveying is all about and its importance to our society (copied from the pamphlet distributed by the Board of Registration). I also pasted a few of my drawings (a plat and a topographical map) onto cardboard backing for display. I even had permission from work to bring some survey equipment along to set up and, hopefully, wow the students with. (I know what you’re thinking. Enough with the parentheses already!)

I usually don’t get nervous until just before I’m supposed to do something. This situation was no different. I did have some concerns, though as I put everything together. For one, I haven’t stepped foot into a junior high school since I graduated the ninth grade. It was the worst time of my life and most of my memories had to do with how cruel kids of that age could be to each other. Here I am over thirty years old, and I’m still intimidated by junior high school kids!

To top it off, I woke up to three inches of snow on the ground with more on the way, and I had to drive in my brand new (to me) Jeep along unknown highways to a town I’ve never been to in the dusky morning.

The nice thing about small towns, though, it’s difficult to get lost. I made only one wrong turn before I made it to my first destination with a half an hour to spare, and before any one else. Perfect, because this gave me plenty of time to set up my tripod and instrument in the gymnasium.

I ran into a problem setting up my tripod on the polished floor, but the janitor gave me a roll of duct tape to press the pointy legs into and tape around so the legs wouldn’t shoot out. It worked – sort of.

Every one else soon arrived, including the lady, Kathy, who set up the event. After all the introductions, the children filed in – all 150 or so of them.

I sat at the long table as Kathy introduced us with my fists clenched in my lap waiting for my top lip to begin twitching. She had already decided I would be the first one to speak. While my stomach and heart had merged into one squirmy, wobbling organ in the middle of my chest, I sensed no imminent Billy Idol impersonation.

When she called my name, I stared at my speech sitting in front of me. I glanced at the crowd staring at me and awaiting my first words.

My intent at first was to read from that piece of paper, but I changed my mind. I figured I know what I want to say, and to recite from the page would bore everyone.

So I pushed it aside, stood up, and began to speak. Once I warmed up to my words and used my visual aids, my nervousness vanished. In fact, I became not only comfortable, but excited. I had everyone’s interest, and at the end received many good questions.

When the other two finished their speeches, there was some time left for either more questions, or to have the students come up and take a closer look at our instruments, plan examples or to ask us more questions.

I was swarmed with about a dozen students, each one wanting to look through my instrument. The tape gave out, but luckily I was standing right there, so I grabbed it before it fell. I then held on to the tripod while the students took turns looking through the scope.

My fear of junior high school students also vanished. All were respectful and kind, even funny. I also had to smile at the end when more girls than boys came by and picked up my pamphlets on land surveying.

I don’t know what happened, but I expected to be more comfortable when we arrived at the second school. I was less nervous, to be sure, but for some reason, I had little control over my hands. They weren’t shaky, but they wouldn’t do what I told them to do in a way I expected. I set my rod down, and it kept wanting to roll off the table. I dropped the case with my instrument still inside instead of placing it gently on the floor.

Things went downhill from there.

As the kids filed in, I borrowed more tape and placed it on the smooth gymnasium floor, expecting it to hold as it did before.

No such luck. As soon as I placed the instrument on the tripod, the legs shot out. Not having a good hold on the instrument, it fell four feet, bouncing at least twice.

I muttered a bad word. Some of the students snickered, others gasped, not because of my profanity, but because of the loud thud the instrument made.

But I set it back up with my now very shaky hands, and it held.

Until the second person spoke.

One of the legs kicked out again, and the tripod and instrument crashed to the floor. I hung my head and heaved a sigh. The students gasped again, and one exclaimed, “It did it again!”

This time I left it as is until all the speeches ended. I then took a moment to pick up my pile. And it was a pile. The thing fell so hard, one of the tripod legs busted right in half. The instrument looked okay, but I knew I would have to send it in for repair at worst, readjustment at best. I didn’t hear anything rattle around inside, so that was a good sign.

Most of the questions the students asked at the end had to do with the instrument, how much the thing cost brand new and how much it would cost to repair if I indeed busted it.

One student even asked, “Will you have to pay for getting it fixed?”

I laughed and said, “I hope not!”

At the third junior high, everything went without a hitch, but then again, I couldn’t set everything up. I did place the instrument on the table, but it didn’t gain any of the students’ interest sitting there.

By the end of it all, I was exhausted, but I still had enough energy to be nervous telling my boss, Harvey, I not only broke a tripod, but our main survey instrument as well. This was the beginning of spring and we would need it within the week.

Luckily Harvey isn’t too excitable when his employees break things as long as he’s told right away. I took the instrument in, and the only comment the repairman said after he fixed it was, “Yep, I could tell it was dropped, and dropped hard.”

Nothing broke, but it definitely needed readjustment. The tripod was also repaired without much difficulty.

And no, I didn’t have to pay for it!