This is a recording and transcription of a TEDx Talk delivered by Camille Cannon on September 9th, 2022 at in Rocklin, CA at Whitney High School’s first-ever TEDxYouth event. Cannon is a proud member of Whitney High School’s inaugural graduating class of 2008.
When I got to college, I was in for a lot of surprises. I was the first in my immediate family to move away from home. I moved to this bizarre place called Berkeley, which I knew I loved, but took a lot of getting used to. I grew up right here, and I graduated from this high school 14 years ago.
One change I experienced in college was being thrust into grand lecture halls where you couldn’t help but feel like a drop in the ocean—especially in my Introduction to Oceanography class. You’re one of 7, sometimes 800 students in one room. The lights are dim so that the PowerPoint slides will glow and the knowledge they contain can penetrate our brains.
There’s something soothing about being a drop in the vast, dark ocean. You can just … disappear.
I, for one, felt right at home in that ocean. I was a student—from elementary through high school—who was terrified—the kind of fear that makes your body freeze your throat feel like the recipient of an unwanted hug from a boa constrictor. I was that kind of terrified—of participating in class. Terrified, of what other people would think of me if they heard my voice.
It’s not an uncommon fear, public speaking. As of 2017, the National Institutes of Health reported that public speaking anxiety affects 73% of the population.
The underlying fear, they say, is a “fear of judgement or negative evaluation by others.”
Oof. Yeah. Judgement and a negative evaluation—maybe from our classmates, or our friends or family. That can really sting. Those are the kinds of interactions we’re not likely to forget. Just talking about it—we can all imagine a time when the weight of someone’s negative opinion totally crushed our spirits.
So, by not speaking up—we crack the code, right? Maybe you can hide well enough, sink down into your chair enough, they can’t see you either! No judgement and no problem, right?
You know the answer to that—but when I was younger, I did not.
See, for almost every one of those lectures on my college schedule, there would be a 20-person “discussion” class too. And your entire grade in discussion was based on “participation.” I had assumed that participation was synonymous with attendance, so I was upset to see my low participation grade even though I showed up for every class. One day, I waited until all of my classmates had left the room so that I could ask my instructor what was up with my grade.
“Yeah, you’re here for every class,” he said. “But Jen,” who was a student athlete on the volleyball team, “She’s gone half the time. But her grade is higher, because when she’s here she’s actually participating.”
Huh?
If it’s not enough to show up, what does it mean to participate?
It turns our there’s a lot of debate on this.
Scholastic (yes, the book fair Scholastic!) posed this question in 2019 to a panel of educators.
Katherine Schultz, a professor of education for the University of Colorado Boulder said this, “Rather than insisting that everyone speak in class and rewarding those who do so with good grades, I believe that teachers need to give students a variety of ways to participate.”
A variety!
I can get on board with that. I can’t argue about the merits of the participation grade in the classroom—I’ll leave that to your teachers. I do propose that participation is essential in life.
In the jobs you will accept, in the relationships you will enter, in the choices you make when life presents you a crossroads.
Your participation is essential.
Why? The risk, as I see it, of not participating, is waking up 5,10, 20 years down the road living someone else’s life—and not knowing how you got there.
So, what if we take this concept of a participation grade and use it as a way to find fulfillment. We’ll key into how deeply we engage with our own life. As active participants, we get closer to living the life that feels best, most true to who we are.
On the subject of fulfillment, you’ve probably heard the sayings “follow your passion,” “do what you love” or “find your purpose.” I don’t disagree with those, but I’ve definitely felt overwhelmed by them. Maybe you have too. Your passion or purpose at 15, might look different than it does at 25. What you love can change from one chapter of life to the next.
For example:
Designer Vera Wang was both a professional figure skater and magazine editor before becoming the renowned fashion designer she is today.
Filmmaker Ava Duvernay, who you know from the blockbusters such as Selma and A Wrinkle in Time, worked as a publicist before she took control of the camera at 32.
And at 17, a pop singer born Robyn Fenty released her first album. Rihanna has since built an empire in the fashion and beauty industries, and she recently became a mom.
As you navigate life and its various transitions—your passions and purpose will change. Instead of trying to chase a moving target, I propose that you ask yourself, at any and every stage of life:
“How will I participate?”
Now, we should probably zero in on what it means to participate. Earlier, we went through some ideas about what it isn’t. We know we can’t just show up. We also know it’s not only about speaking up, although speaking up for ourselves can be incredibly important—We’ll come back to that.
If we give ourselves a participation grade. If we’re measuring how much we are participating in our day-to-day life—What are we looking for?
I’d like to offer that it comes down to these three things:
- Being present
- Being curious
- Being in connection
I will go into more detail on each of those, but first I want to revisit something. I mentioned that the danger of not participating is living a life that isn’t your own.
I know this, because there are ways in which I didn’t participate in my own life for a really long time, and not just within the walls of the classroom. In my late twenties, I started to realize that I had been stifling my dreams the way I used to disappear into my desk in the classroom.
After graduating college, I moved to Las Vegas, Nevada, to be closer to my family. I thought I might be there six months, tops. I wanted desperately to move back to California. I also dreamed of furthering my education. I wanted to earn an MBA and one day, work for myself.
By age 28, I was still sweltering in the Las Vegas sun, and to complicate matters, I was in love. I had told my partner from the beginning about my plans but two years into our relationship, I hadn’t gotten any closer to achieving them. We talked and talked and in 2019, we started planning a future—we’d apply to jobs out of state, and together go where fate would take us! Together we would build the life of our dreams and future family.
I applied to a dozen or so jobs along the West Coast until one day I was scrolling a job board and found it: my dream job, working for a business school in California.
I could see it: me and my significant other” briefcases by day, surfboards by sunset! Happily ever after in sunny San Diego.
After my interview with the dream job, everything changed. My partner started expressing doubts. I felt my world imploding.
“Maybe it’s not the right time,” he said. “Not the right job. What if you just wait for something else?”
Wait.
I’d waited a really long time to make these dreams real. I’d waited every time I had a question in class and never spoke up out of fear. Finally, I needed to speak up. Participating meant choosing the life I wanted to live, even though I was scared.
And I moved, alone, to a city where I didn’t know anyone. In the aftermath of my first-ever, earth shattering, heart wrenching breakup.
In the early days of my move, I would drive myself to the beach, hear the crash of the waves, see the bright orange sunset melt into the water and I knew that, as difficult as this was, I was now where I needed to be.
I’ve lived in San Diego for three years now, and I am thrilled to share that not only did I get that job (!), I got to earn my MBA in the evenings thanks to a generous scholarship. I’ve found a new community with my classmates that makes this once foreign city feel like a real home. And when I feel like it, I even speak up in class.
That being said, I don’t know exactly what I’ll do after I graduate. Life looks so different than it did three years ago—I know you can’t attest to that too. I’m discovering new goals and dreams for myself as the world presents new challenges.
I know you may be challenged by people around you, even well-meaning ones, who ask you “What will you do after you graduate? What are you going to study? What do you want to do for the rest of your life?”
I don’t believe you have to have the answers. I know I don’t. But here’s what I think we can do:
Be present so that you can hear what not only what others are saying, but the whisper of your own dreams when they call out to you. What do you hear?
Be curious—Ask yourself: How does that make me feel? What did I like about that experience? What do I want to do about that in the future?
Be in connection. You may experience that “underlying fear of judgement or negative evaluation by others.” Sometimes, fear kicks in to keep you safe. Other times, fear keeps you stuck. It keeps you from being seen, and from the possibility of connecting with yourself, as well as the people around you.
I used to think that being seen or being judged was the scariest thing possible. But now I believe that it is scarier to let fear control you, and to go through the motions of your own life. Instead, I encourage you to ask, “How will I participate?”
Thank you.
camillecan.com 