Just like that… A slightly slimmer version of me started off his university journey with a debate about none other than ocean conservation. The same kid who would complain about sea turtles stealing away the rigid embrace of a plastic straw that wouldn’t disintegrate in mere seconds would be an advocate for “Poseidon’s haven.” Though, no matter what the topic or cause that debate stood for, it birthed something beautiful. Something so beautiful that I’d cherish until today. The day where I stand with my forever bunch at the epitome of a club that oozes passion in every inch of my being. It all started with a debate that I despised.
One fine evening, completely fatigued out of my monotonous existence waiting for the perfect moment where my university life would kickstart, I receive a simple text from WhatsApp. A familiar face asking an unfamiliar question unbeknownst to me at any instance of my life. The question said “Yeran, would you like to join us for a debate?” I wasn’t particularly fond of that idea, however considering my status as a freeloader, I decided to give it a shot. Therefore, I started assembling a team. A team that would be shrouded in rambunctiousness with plenty of heartfelt moments to account for. The debate sessions started off with simple on topic details on ocean conservation laws and everything and anything that would make cows yawn. Slowly, they started gravitating towards the more informal approach. Talks of failed love and different aspects of life would soon extend to times past the midnight hour. The constant bickering and mildly inappropriate comments would soon turn into a staple of my daily life.
The day of the debate finally arrived. I was fretting on whether my outfit seemed “debate-centric” and whether I had my information in check. I explored an unfamiliar boundary that would soon be too familiar, which was the chem benches. I met a few people who fit the same description of those in my debate team. After picking each other’s brains and conversing for a bit, we calmed our nerves and headed straight to the arena of words and arguments. A rustic hall with a faulty mic, sudden gushes of wind perforating through the open windows. We gathered ourselves and awaited the draw. Quite unsurprisingly, we went up first. Quite gladly, we didn’t draw with our other team. After an intense battle of wits and smarts, our opposition took the better of us. The other team was met with the same fate. We weren’t disappointed, not even a tinge of disappointment in our faces. It was the experience that mattered. We shared laughs and realised our laughs synchronised in unison. A perfect crescendo of jives and cheers that followed would oscillate my serotonin for days to come. The battle was lost, though we won the war. The war of being casted and shunned away. The war of self pity and forlorn that plagued my existence. I found myself in people again. Wait… The story isn’t over.
The debate competition entered its closing remarks. The winners were announced. Even a best speaker was awarded and it was blatantly not me. Although, a small twist came in my way. The lady announced “Best Speaker – Honorable Mention.” My eyes lit up and I felt some hope. They started calling out names one by one until they stopped at a name I knew very much, which was mine. Finally, I felt seen and recognized for my talents. A small victory, though does the size of your victory really matter? This last line, it surely kickstarted my Gavel career. The first official meeting where I started my first ever Table Topic, which caught the eyes and tickled the funny bone of some was none other than this one. A Gavel Legend indeed.
From that point on, the fire grew until I fired myself up to where I am right now, the epitome of Gavel as the guardian of the vault. The junior treasurer of Gavel. I secured a spot at the club that gave me so much to appreciate. Whether it was a friend group who were practically immune to my whimsical nature or whether it was a safe space to explore my passion, it all led to this moment. An year later with a couple more pounds added to my mass, I have a heart full of love and a cranium full of beautiful memories to cherish. To the man who was scared to step up, be glad you took the first step. If not, you’d never be able to moonwalk on the sun.
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