Fai
My older son went to Kuala Lumpur with his school debate team for a tournament last week. He came home this afternoon full of excitement, and declared that it was the best time he had ever had with his friends. At his age, spending 3 or 4 days with his peers away from home is of course a big treat, but that by itself does not account for the high spirit that he is in. He is so happy largely because he loves to debate.
Debate is about his only extra-curricular activity these days. In the past, he spread his time evenly between studying and playing, which included a combination of activities such as playing music, reading and sports. But homework has consumed all his time recently, and one by one he dropped all his other activities except debate. The debate club at his school meets every Friday afternoon, and on that day, he would come home late, full of stories of what happened during the club meeting. At dinner, he would regale(v.使喜悅)the family with a detailed account as to who says what during the practice, what silly remarks some team members make, and what witty(adj.機智的)retorts(n.反駁)others are able to come up with.
I can certainly understand the thrill(n.恐怖)of public speaking. To be able to argue a point well in front of an audience requires great concentration, methodical(adj.有條理的)thinking and clarity of mind. When one can pull it off, it is exhilarating(adj.令人振奮的). With a team, the dynamics become considerably more intricate(adj.錯綜複雜的). First of all, each member is given a particular task: the first to define the terms of the argument and give an outline of how his team will argue, the second to put forward the major argument, the third to rebut(v.反駁)the argument of the other side, and the fourth, if there is a fourth member to the team, to round up the debate with a well thought out conclusion. Needless to say, a team has to work very closely together before it can function smoothly.
Public speaking can be nerve-wrecking. Having chosen teaching as my profession, I have had many opportunities to speak in the public─not only in the classroom, but also in meetings, conferences and other briefing sessions. I must say that after these many years, I still have a twinge of anxiety(n.焦慮)whenever I have to stand up to speak. My heart would begin to race, my breathing would quicken, my muscles would tense up, and my forehead would almost always get damp from the perspiration.
The worst experience I can remember happened almost 30 years ago when I was on the debate team at the university. About 2 months before we were to debate our opponents from the other university, we met 2 or 3 times a week for practice. The coach would give us a motion and ask us to prepare to argue either from the proposition(n.正方)or the opposition side(n.反方). At the last minute, the coach would ask us to switch side. Those who had prepared to argue for the affirmative would now have to argue for the negative, and vice versa.
The first time that happened, I was caught off guard. I almost asked for time to reorganize my thoughts. But that was not to be. Like it or not, we stepped up to the podium and presented our arguments. I do not remember what I said that day, but I am sure whatever I said did not make any sense. I do remember, however, that my legs felt like pillars of jelly, and the muscles on my back tensed up so much that it felt like a knot(n.繩結). I somehow managed to stammer(v.結結巴巴地說)my way through the ordeal(n.折磨), but during the break, I went to the back stage, found a quiet spot and immediately laid down. My back was killing me.
Fortunately, I have not had nervous attacks as strong as that since that time. I have learned to bring my anxiety under control, but I do not think I will ever be able to eliminate it altogether. ■kingfaitam@gmail.com
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