97 Seconds

“The Lifeskills Professor” Project

A digital slide sat idly on the whiteboard as everyone filed into the room for the final period of the day.

“Alright, I know presentations are NOT everybody’s favourite thing—”

The twenty-eight, thirteen year olds in the room let out a collective, exasperated sigh as Marvin Mayrette began to explain their language assignment for the week.

“PRESENTATIONS!?!? But Mr. emmmmmmmmm we just DID one in our History class with Ms. Brownpen…..” Priya moaned from the six-student ‘pod’ she belonged to this month. Her group was positioned beside the north wall of the classroom, where large windows stretched from the ceiling down to the hospital-white brickwork that made up the bottom quarter of the exterior wall.

“Yes Priya, I realize that but —”

Marvin paused for a moment to let the room settle. The young girl’s complaint had acted as a ‘starting gun’ for everyone in the room. All of the pods had begun to mumble and murmur to each other in agreement. If Priya's group was griping about it, then others felt empowered to as well.

“But.”

The pods continued to whine to each other, which actually made Marvin smirk a little. It’s important that humans both experience, and share moments of collective joy, sadness, and disapproval. Especially young people. The students in each pod were bonding a little over their mutual disdain for presentations.

“But……”

‘We are getting close problem territory,’ Marvin thought. The students were having trouble resetting themselves.

“BUT.” Volume up. Sharper tone.

The shift in his speech demanded their attention.

Heads turned. The pods fell silent.

“But,” he continued, dropping back into the playful, enthusiastic voice he usually spoke with, “those presentations were in groups, and they were about very specific topics. Things you had to research. Things you may not have been super interested in. Those presentations were about proving you understood historical content. These ones will be a little more….. fun.”

Now he had them…. Or did he have them? In today’s classroom you never really have them. At least, not all of them.

But they were all looking at him.

And listening to him.

So he felt like some of them must have been interested. The ones who weren’t…. well, they would at least be paying enough attention to understand the assignment.

“These presentations will be entirely self-directed. What I care about, more than anything else, is how you use effective presentation skills. Things we have talked about several times throughout the year.”

Marvin flipped his digital presentation to the next slide, revealing a list of expectations and effective presentation skills.

“Speaking in a clear, confident voice. Being animated and enthusiastic. Using visuals, props, or giving a hands-on demonstration in the room. And most importantly, being organized! Know your information. Know what you are going to say. Practice, practice, practice. Before presenting.”

Stella’s pod, positioned near the sink and the art shelves on the opposite side of the room from Priya’s, began to whisper to each other. She quickly raised her hand and asked (without waiting to be called upon — she and Mr. Mayrette had an understanding about this kind of thing), “Mr. M, what exactly will our presentations be about?”

Marvin smiled.

He flipped to the next slide, which featured a smattering of random pictures.

A computer broken down into its component parts.

A young boy doing some dishes.

A woman strapping a bike chain back onto the gears of a mountain bike.

A pastry chef pulling fresh muffins out of an oven.

A kind-of-gross close-up of teeth being flossed.

A stained shirt with a no-name ‘stain remover’ product next to it.

— “Well Stella…. The topic can be almost anything you want.”

The class stared at him in silence. They needed more direction than that. Marvin knew they would, he just wanted to give them a minute to let the thought sink in.

“You are going to give a short presentation about some kind of a ‘life skill,’ or a ‘life hack,’ or an everyday hobby or activity. Something that you are interested in, but also, something that you feel it is important for people to know about. It should be something that is easy to teach, or show us, and something that pretty much anybody could, or even should try to do."

Suddenly, fourteen hands shot up to ask for more clarification about the assignment. Mostly, they just wanted to ask if the first idea that had popped into their heads was a ‘good’ topic.

“How long do they have to be?”

“Ah! Sorry, I should have pointed that out. Like the expectation slide shows, they can be anywhere between one and half, to three minutes long.”

“Can I do ‘how to draw in a specific style,’ like Anime?”

“Sure.”

“Can I do ‘how to tie your shoes so that you turn them into slip-ons?’”

“If you’d like to.”

“Can it be something like how to put gas in a car?”

Marvin turned to Hassan with a surprised look on his face. “How many thirteen year olds do you know that drive cars? Can you drive a car?”

“Ummm…. No. Not yet.”

“Would that be a very useful thing for someone your age to learn about right now?”

“Maybe not.”

“It’s not a bad thing to know! Just, not very relatable for your audience.”

Marvin turned his attention back to the entire class. “Remember people! Your audience is your own age group! Think of things that could be useful and valuable to young people like you. But, also, try to think of things that your classmates might not know how to do…. or at the very least, try to teach us all the best, most efficient way to do something.”

Instead of continuing to field endless “Is this okay? Is that okay?” questions, Marvin gave his class the rest of the period to talk amongst their pods, brainstorm ideas, and come up with topics to propose to him. They were welcome to come to him to ask if a topic was appropriate, or get suggestions, at any time, and the expectation was that by ‘home time,’ they would have chosen a topic so that they could start working on the assignment the following day.

Really, what Marvin was creating through this ‘free discussion’ block, was an opportunity to let his stronger students have the freedom to develop their own ideas with each other, and then play a role in influencing and supporting their peers. However, it also gave him the opportunity to check in with students he knew would struggle with the task, because of the anxiety and fear they might feel around giving a presentation on their own.

Grace.

Marvin watched her excitedly talking with her pod-mates about potential topics. She seemed enthusiastic, engaged, and really “into it” from the outside. However, Marvin wasn’t sure she’d ever been pushed to actually give a presentation on her own before, as previous teachers had put notes in her 'permanent record file' about making exceptions for her due to a severe anxiety related to speaking in front of larger groups. No doubt those fears were a result of the fact that her speech sounded slightly different than everyone else’s.

Marvin turned off the tiny microphone he wore around his neck each day and headed over to her pod to chat with her.

When someone was ‘up close and personal,’ she didn’t need the little mic to amplify sound for her. She could hear reasonably well at close range, and she could also read lips, body language, and facial expressions to fill in the gaps. Half the time, her other teachers, especially supply teachers, would forget to even use the mic, but Grace was so independent and confident she’d remind them to turn it on, or wear it, without giving it a second, self-conscious thought. She was what one might call a ‘social butterfly’ as well, so it was odd to Marvin that she didn’t have the confidence to present something, or speak in front of others.

Maybe it was just that no one had ever given her the confidence to do it. No one had ever made her face the thing she was afraid of, so that she could see she had it in her.

“You good Grace? Have an idea for your topic?”

“Ya! I am going to teach everyone how to get gum and other sticky things out of their hair.” She grabbed on to her straight, brown, shoulder-length hair, holding a bundle of it up in front of her mouth and nose while her eyes smiled at the friends in her pod.

Marvin laughed. “You have a lot of experience with that?”

“Mmmmm a little!” She joked.

“If you need anything, or you want to practice with a pod-mate during the week, make sure you let me know okay?”

“Yep.”

Marvin didn’t want to overstay his welcome at the pod, or center Grace out by offering what would appear to others as an unusual amount of, albeit well-intentioned, extra help or ‘talk time,’ so he simply smiled and began to make his way around to the other pods.

She’s got this. She’ll let me know if she doesn’t.

————————————————————————————————————————

“Guys, I have to go THIRD! I’m not ready. I don’t feel good. I am going to sound stupid!!!!”

“No you won’t Grace!” Emilia grabbed on to her friend’s arm and pulled her closer, leaning in overtop of their desks. “You practiced right?”

“Ya…..”

“How much did you practice?”

“I’ve been doing it all week! Every night! Just not the actual gum part.”

“Okay, well, you are ready then. You are gonna be soooo good!”

“But people are going to laugh at me if I mess up. What if I mess up words or they don’t know what I’m saying because of how I talk?”

“Grace, you talk to us ALL THE TIME! And think about Mr. M, he doesn’t let that kind of thing happen. Remember when the boys were convincing Peter to say those disgusting words because he didn’t know what they meant? Mr. M exploded on them, and then the whole room got in trouble because we didn’t help stop it! Even if you make a mistake, it’ll be okay. No one is going to laugh, because of him. They would be too afraid to!”

“But I don’t think I can. Can you come up with me?”

“I don’t think he’ll let me Grace…. but I will if you ask.”

Visions of the worst outcomes raced through Grace’s mind. She barely had time to take a deep breath and push one out of her head before the next burrowed its way into her thoughts.

~ Her slides aren’t right! 

No. They must be. They’ve been done for weeks.

~ Her props aren’t here!

Yes they are. They are waiting on the back shelf.

~ What if she forgets her lines!?!? 

She has a script.

~ What if she drops something? What if her gum solution doesn’t work!?! Then she’ll just be stuck at the front of the room with gum in her hair. Maybe she shouldn’t do that part. Maybe she shouldn’t do this at all. Maybe…….

“Mr. M?” She approached his ‘support table’ at the back of the room.

“Ya Grace? What do you need? We’re about to start….”

“Can Emilia come up with me when I present?”

“Oh…. Uhhhh, is she holding something for you? Do you need her for a demonstration?”

“No. Not really. I just…..”

“Well then you don’t really need her up there do you?”

“I…. Well……”

“Grace. You’re a grade 8. You can do this. You can handle it. Remember, you’re just talking to us. You’re the expert! You’re the only one who knows best about your topic. You’re smarter than EVERYONE in here about this one thing today. Have fun with it!”

Marvin gave her the most convincing, encouraging smile he could.

I need to get out of here.

“Can I go to the bathroom before we start?”

“Of course. If you see our first presenter is still going when you get back to the door, just wait until they finish before you come back in okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Grace whizzed down the hall to the girls bathroom and huddled herself into one of the stalls.

Riddled with uncertainty and self-doubt, her imagination spiralled again.

“What is she saying!?!?”

“She’s so stupid.… That’s why she talks that way. Her brain doesn’t work properly!”

“Getting gum out of your hair? Who cares. Who even gets gum IN their hair? She’s weird.”

A classroom of 28 became 280 laughing heads. Inflating like cackling, clown-faced balloons before exploding in her imagination.

How long has it been!? Oh no. I’m going to be in trouble.

Grace carried her fear and anxiety down the hallway with her like an over-stuffed, ‘last day of school backpack.’ To her surprise, the spiral that had felt like an eternity had only lasted about 5 minutes. The first presentation had just finished as she arrived outside of the classroom door.

Grace quietly hurried to her desk and sat down. She remained silent, staring into the ground throughout presentation two. By the time her name was called, she was on the verge of tears, reeling in a haze of imagined heckles and would-be disasters.

“Grace…… Grace…… Grace, you’re up.” Mr. M called from the back of the room. “Just give me a minute to get your slideshow up. You’ve got this lady!”

Grace took her cue cards, coconut oil, and scissors to the front of the room.

Behind her on the screen was a beautifully organized slide with the title “GUM IN YOUR HAIR! BE AWARE!” and a bunch of pictures of messed up haircuts, people crying, and gunk being scraped out of different heads of hair.

Grace checked the slide behind her. It looked good.

She picked up her cue cards and checked their order. Also good.

She looked out towards her classmates and teacher, and opened her mouth.

Nothing.

Her stomach swirled like the ocean in a hurricane.

Her heart resembled the pistons of an old steam engine hitting maximum overdrive.

She could feel those tears creeping back up behind her eyes.

Her mouth…. Wanted to speak. But it could barely gasp for the breath she so desperately needed.

“I can’t.” She mouthed silently to Emilia and her pod-mates.

She looked like the entire world had just collapsed around her. Like nothing would ever be okay again.

'What have I done….' Marvin worried. 'How do I save her? If I speak out I take away her agency. If I let her pass and leave the room, it’s a scene. It will crush her confidence and reinforce the idea that she really can’t do this. But I can’t leave her up there much longer. I…… Come on Grace. Just start. Look back here. Look at me. Start. You can—'

“You got this Grace!”

‘Did that come from Rebecca? They’re not really even frien—’

“Ya, come on Grace. I need to make sure I can get gum out of my hair!”

The room erupted at the second comment because it came from Evan…. Evan always got caught chewing gum, but Evan also has a buzzcut. Class comedian.

“Let’s go Grace! You know what to do!” Emilia chimed in. Following that up by making some exaggerated ‘chewing’ motions at her friend.

Grace smiled, laughed a little, and opened a piece of gum.

“I’m sorry for this Mr. M, but it is part of my presentation!”

She popped it into her mouth and began to chew, which caused a second roar of laughter and cheering to make its way around the room.

“I’ll allow it.” Mr M smiled. “Just DON’T tell Principal Finela!”

“Today I am going to teach you all something VERY important,” Grace started, taking some enormously exaggerated chomps on the gum in her mouth for effect. “I am going to teach you all how—” she pulled the gum from her mouth and stuck it into her own hair “— to get gum, and other gunk out of your hair! You can do it really easily with something oily that you have in your house, like coconut oil or peanut butter………….”

Grace’s presentation was short, 1-minute and thirty-seven seconds to be exact, mildly informative, very entertaining, and most importantly, all her own. She even included a ‘last resort’ option, ending the entire thing by cutting off a chunk of her own hair in front of everyone, delivering her very own ‘mic drop’ moment.

The room went absolutely berserk as she finished. Classmates shouted, cheered, and even fought over who would get to keep the gummed-up hair she cut.

‘Man these kids can be gross.’ Mr. M, and possibly even a few students, thought.

This moment was about so much more than academics or giving a presentation.

It was a moment where one young person was pushed just far enough, and also pushed herself enough to learn that she can do hard things, that she is capable of defeating the scary thoughts inside of her head.

More than that even, it was about a classroom of kids feeling connected. Feeling like they had all been a part of something special…. of making a moment special for someone…. of giving someone the courage to overcome their fears.

For anyone who doubts the amount of empathy, compassion, and positivity young people are capable of, being in a room like Mr. M’s, for a moment like that, would erase those concerns instantly. Just like the many adults who may doubt or judge them, young people are not always at their best, but the only way to know what their best looks like, is to actually be there for it.