Don't Judge Me By My Favorite Color

Here we go I thought to myself. Weeks of preparation comes down to this moment. I look out at the stage that I will be on in less than sixty seconds. I look out at the auditorium full of kids with bored expressions. I glance at the principal who is now introducing me. This is only the second time I've done this and it's weird doing it again, like it was just yesterday that I was up on the stage of my own school. I take a drink of water and walk out on to the stage. I take my place behind the podium and put my papers down. I look at the audience anticipating their reaction to me.

"Hi. For those of you who don't know, my name is Jade Thompson. I'm sixteen, a sophomore at a school in Manhattan. I'm here to talk about something very important to me. It's something that affects every single one of us, whether we are aware of it or not, directly or indirectly. Bullying. But I'm taking a different approach to this. Judging. Judging people wrongly. Judging someone based on things that you don't know the full story of. Like for instance, when I came out on the stage, I bet almost every one of you had already made an opinion of me. Only half of you would probably be willing to reconsider it. You judge me on the fact that I'm wearing dark wash skinny jeans, black wedge boots, a black fitted long-sleeved top, dark make-up and black nail polish, and all my bracelets and necklaces. Would anyone like to tell me what were the first thoughts that came into your head when I came out?" I say, taking this opportunity to take a breath. "No? No, of course not. Well, that's okay guys, because I already know. I'll just tell you some from past experience. Let's start with goth. Emo. Weird. Cutter. Dumb. Annoying. Attention-seeker. Depressed. Mean. Hates life. Hates everyone. Lame. Uncool. Unpopular. Disliked. Loner. Dangerous. There's just a couple." I stop and look out over the crowd, watching their expressions. "Now, how much of that do you think is true?"