Sinjin+S’s+Final+AmEx+Speech+2017

= A Speechy Speech =

I’m sure all of you know, but I am obviously the most charming of the guys out there. I’ve had a few dozen people asking to be my prom date alone, but hey, there’s just one of me, right? Besides, I have like ten girlfriends too! Okay, just so there’s no miscommunication, I was being sarcastic. I was lying. But I’m sure you could all tell. I’m honestly just a wuss who’s scared of relationships. But you probably knew that too, right?

So let me tell you a quick story. I wrote my original speech roughly sixteen hours ago, and it was beautiful. I mean Dinkler would be proud with how much rhetoric I squeezed in there! But lo and behold, I forgot to upload it to the internet. But sitting here has made me remember something else that has frustrated me. Quite a few times, I’ve sat here in my free second period, and been confused with some guy named Elvis. “Elvis, aren’t you supposed to be on the senior trip?” “Elvis, shouldn’t you be taking your final right now?” Even during the SBAC, “Elvis, are you sure you’re taking this test?” Thanks Mrs. Kapala. Guess I’m really unique from behind.

So this brings me to my main point. The fact that I absolutely despised the way I looked. The fact that I’m still judged by my weight, skin, and looks to this day. Right now, I’m wearing a flannel-shirt thing over a regular T-shirt, right? I’ll have you know that I’m am extremely uncomfortable wearing this here. As I type this speech, my hands are shaking – clattering against the keyboard. I’m just going to name a few things that have made me angry over the years. In middle school, a kid –younger than me may I add – called me “Creepy Kid”. As I tried to read my book in peace on the bus, he kept pushing me, waiting for my explosion. Let’s not forget the guy who called me “Seenheen” in science, or that guy here at school who questioned why I was taking Spanish 1 in freshman year. Even some of my closest friends took up the habit of calling me “Hippo” as a nickname.

Let me clear some misconceptions you may or may not have of me. First off, yes, I do exercise. Not a lot, but I do go out for runs, work on legs, core, and strength from time to time. Sure I’m fat, but I still love that rush of the wind at the beginning of a run. Second, I don’t know Tagalog and didn’t learn Spanish until two years ago. Extra bonus fact: I’m half Filipino. Third, I’m not some rapist, pervert, sexual deviant, nor pedophile that I look like. Heck, I still don’t understand guy’s obsession with breasts! But that doesn’t deny me the look of that girl in front of me, checking behind her shoulder every ten seconds, increasing her pace as she grows more nervous. Curious, I check behind me. No one is there. She was scared of me. She thinks I’m following her. Little does she know that I walk this way home nearly every single day.

I’ve been thankful that here, I’ve experienced little of those judgements. But something I could never shake, was that feeling of being ostracized. But you guys can’t help it. Why hang out with “Creepy Kid”, the “Hippo”, the one who’s a mutt of races, the one who’s not Mexican enough to be Mexican, and the one not Asian enough to be Asian? Yet…for some reason… some of you do. You guys somehow don’t care about those labels, who don’t care about the fact that I’m terrible at sports, and that I prefer studying random subjects over math and Physiology. That’s what I find amazing. And that’s the America I wish to grow old in. I want my children to grow up in an America where they won’t be judged off their looks, but rather find others willing to accept them for who they are. I wish to grow up and not be creepy, but maybe for someone to think I’m cool. So I ask of you, to never let your vision be diluted, and to pass it on to others.