I love to look back on the things and individuals that shaped the person that I am today. Even though I am a sophomore in university, I believe that it’s crucial to not just pay it back to those who supported you, but to pay it forward to a new generation that is inspired by your past efforts.
In a time in which things are moving at an unexpected pace, it is important to take a breath, return to once familiar things and give time to help out wherever possible. Life can take you on a wild journey, but grounding yourself in the past will help you move forward.
Not only am I an assistant Speech and Debate coach for my former high school team, RISE Speech and Debate, but I am also an advocate for using your voice to drive meaningful conversations. It is truly inspiring to see those that I grew up with use their voices fearlessly.
Last week, I returned to Denver to deal with some pressing familial issues. Although the situation is rather unfortunate, I focused on the positive that was on the horizon: the Rocky Mountain South National Qualifying Tournament.
High schoolers from across the Denver Metropolitan Area compete against each other for the opportunity to qualify for the National Speech and Debate Association’s annual tournament. In this case, it marks the NSDA’s centennial year and will be held in Des Moines, Iowa.
This one-of-a-kind event was the most nerve-wracking competition that I participated in as a high schooler. Now, as a judge and coach, this tournament is the definition of gut-wrenching and heartbreaking for me.
Compared to other activities, public address, interpretative, and debate events require a lot of preparation, memorization and time. If you told me to prepare a poetry interpretative speech only using songs from Doechii’s 2024 mixtape “Alligator Bites Never Heal,” consider that challenge accepted. But, let me reflect on my past before speech and debate.
At the age of five, I was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder. I couldn’t handle conversations or interactions with my classmates, teachers and even my own family members. Let’s just say, I was not the talkative type in the slightest sense.
In speech therapy, I played Angry Birds on my iPad for hours and ate a hefty amount of Goldfish packets, but ultimately felt that my voice wasn’t important. Although the “rewards” slightly helped, moving to Zacatecas with my family at the age of seven erased everything that I had just learned.
A new environment and the erasure of a language is quite a challenge, especially for a kid who was barely able to speak with his siblings and parents. Yet, I adapted and embraced what was available to me at the time, specifically through Vevo Official music videos. They showed me how you can express yourself through music, fashion and your voice.
Upon returning to Denver two years later, I was once again forced to adjust, this time in a vaguely familiar setting. Long lost friendships, occasional bullying and the decision to move me and my siblings to different schools taught me that change is natural and you should embrace everything that comes your way.
Once I became a high school freshman, I decided that I wanted to challenge myself and take a risk. I signed up for “Intro to Speech,” a class that focused on building your confidence in public speaking through music, poems and personal experiences.
When I walked into Room 161, I was mesmerized by a loud and welcoming presence: RISE Coach Anna Steed. Not only did she put me and other students on the spot, but she taught me the power of “United We Speak,” a core saying within the team.
As I wanted to branch out to different events, Assistant Coach Michael Suomi taught me the importance of trying something new. Specifically, he helped me craft my senior year oratory, which touched on the importance of using the privileges that each individual carries for good.
Sixteen speech and debate events, 3,158 NSDA points and a slew of individual and team accolades later, I am here at one of the best universities in the world with a passion for uplifting underrepresented experiences and identities.
So, when I am always asked the question: “Why are you still attached to high school, haven’t you moved on?” you now know why. This activity allowed me to be confident in my voice and experiences, and strive to create impactful change in an industry where Latino journalists only make up 8% of most U.S.-based newsrooms.
Even though most people wouldn’t want to judge high school competitors on the weekend, it teaches teenagers to become young adults who aren’t afraid of using their voices for change. This activity is a crucial part of my past, and I am excited to see how it becomes the gift that keeps on giving for generations to come.
Alexander Hernandez Gonzalez is a Medill sophomore. He can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.
