High School Speech Competition

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to and attended the District (think cross between state and county) level high school speech competition. Musisi Henry, a St. Mary's student in Senior 5, had invited me and Sr. Sanyu thought it was a good idea so I went.

The competition was on a Friday, that meant the UMU bus would drop me off at Katende, a town along the route from Kampala to Nkozi.

The first mistake was that the bus missed the stop, but Henry saw the bus go by, so Sr. Sanyu called the driver on his cell phone. Since he was driving he didn't answer it, so she called someone they knew was a passenger on the bus. She told the driver to stop. Needless to say by the time this all transpired, I was more than a bit past my designated stop. The driver pulled over and let me out on the side of the road in the middle of NOWHERE. I had not a clue where I was except that one way was Kampala and the other was was Nkozi.

Sr. Sanyu sent her driver to get me. No problem. There's only one Muzungu standing at the side of the road. The driver found me and drove me back to St. Maria Goretti where the competition was being held.

Sr. Sanyu met me and showed me around the school since she used to be a teacher there. It's a nice school. The buildings are a bit nicer than St. Mary's where Bry'Chell attends, but fairly similar. It was a bit after 8 AM and the competition was scheduled to begin at 8:30.

We went to the auditorium where the competition was to be held and got settled. We were among the first people to arrive. St. Mary's had two students participating--one in the "O" level--Senior 1 to 4 category and one in the "A" level--Senior 5 and 6. Each student had another student as their support person. It meant there would be at least one friendly face in the audience for each participant.

Needless to say, the competition did not get started at 8:30. It was more like 10 or 10:30 when things got underway. Oh well. Travel is not easy for most folks and many students were coming from a fair distance over rutted dirt roads.

The competition finally got underway. The sponsoring organization was the Ugandan version of IRS--the Uganda Revenue Authority All of the students were talking about an assigned aspect of tax law, not the most inspiring topic. The goal was to create happy taxpayers of the future. The theory is that if high school students understand the purpose and importance of taxes then they will grow up to be cheerful and conscientious taxpayers in the future. Right.

The first few speeches were interesting. I learned a lot about the Uganda tax system. After that, they were all the same. Of course, some speakers did a good job and others were abysmal. Such is the nature of high school speeches. Each of the students was the best from his or her school, so the overall quality was pretty good. Henry was one of the better speakers. He really was, but he didn't win.

None of this is the reason I'm writing about this. There was one thing that really bugged me. The adults--teachers and such kept talking while the students were giving their speeches. I thought their behavior was inexcusably rude.

Sr. Sanyu was one of the judges. At the morning break, I asked her if there was anything I could do to let the adults know they should keep their traps shut while the kids were speaking. She suggested I talk to the coordinator. I did. I figured since I was an outsider, maybe I could say something that the others could not. After all, I'd never see these people again. The coordinator seemed relieved that someone else noticed and was more than happy to have me address the group.

I started by complimenting the students on their well-prepared and delivered speeches. I complimented the other students on their respect and attention, then I lit into the adults. I was actually pretty mild, I just said I was disappointed with their lack of respect for these students who were trying so hard. I asked what impression they wanted me to carry back to the United States.

The speeches continued and honestly, after a while, they bored the socks off me. However, I listened, because I figured the students deserved that much for the effort they put into their talks. Besides, having opened my big mouth, I had to be quiet.

Sitting around me were four men--later I found out they were head teachers (principals) and teachers. They talked and talked. I gave them a dirty look. It made no impression. I'm doing a slow boil. I'm surprised that there was no steam rising from my head like in the cartoons, that's how mad I was. I shot them another dirty look--this time longer and with more obvious disdain. Still no change.

Finally, after they had talked and laughed through another entire speech, I lost it. After the speech finished, I laid into them. I chewed them up one side and down the other. How could they be so rude? I couldn't believe the bad example they were setting. I expected better from adults, especially adults who worked with these teenagers who were so committed...blah, blah, blah.

Then I did what I do with kids after I finish yelling at them--I said--"Did you hear me? I want an answer. Because if you didn't hear me I'll start all over." Finally, one of the guys sheepishly says, "Yes, we heard you."

They were quiet for the rest of the speeches. Henry who was sitting on the other side of me, just looked at me with big eyes and said, "My God, Sister Judy, I didn't know you could do that."

Yeah, now you've seen the evil Sister Judy.