Fear Took the Mic

It was 2010. I was sitting in class, 17 years old, when my name was called over the PA: “Chris Hatzis to Mr S's office.”

Fuck, I thought. What have I done?

I got up and wandered down. Truthfully, we got along alright. He used to be a well-known local footballer and I respected him for that.

There was always a mutual sense of ease between us.

I walked into his office.

“G’day,” I said, and sat down.

He looked at me, calm and direct.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he began diplomatically, “that the quality of applicants for school captain this year… probably falls short of what would best represent the school.”

I nodded. I knew what he meant.

We’d just had the school captain speeches not long before, one of the girls got up and did a full-blown rap. The teachers’ jaws were on the floor. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

To be fair, neither could I but I still found it kind of impressive.

Then he asked: “Would you consider being school captain?”

I was shocked. “Honestly, I’d love to,” I said. “But I can’t.”

He looked puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m terrible at public speaking,” I told him. “I’ve got a fear of it. I just… I can’t do it.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I’ll help you. I’ll teach you.”

I paused. Then I said, “I’m sorry… but I can’t do it.”

We looked at each other. For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

He could tell I meant it.

And he accepted what I said even though I could see the disappointment in his face.

I was disappointed in myself too.

I knew I’d just let a really good opportunity pass me by.

My fear was so strong that it didn’t even allow me to try.

Not even once.

Not even to practice. I got up and walked out.

I didn’t feel great about it.

That moment has stayed with me ever since.

The girl who did the rap got one of the roles. Another guy got the other. That’s just how it went.

It was where I was at.

It is what it is.