Bodwell Life
When I first heard about the World Scholars Cup, I thought it was the scariest thing ever. Just hearing Gabriella talk about it made me feel incredibly dumb. As soon as I heard the word debate, I was shaking in my boots. I start bawling my eyes out when I argue with my older brother. So, when I heard that you had to debate, I was like “I wouldn’t be caught DEAD doing that.”
I’m dead.
Just kidding, I mostly enjoyed attending the World Scholars Cup. At first, the cons outweighed the pros. The months of preparation, research, meeting up on Thursdays and Fridays to discuss standardized fonts for hours on end… I hated all of that. I remember being so fed up with the competition that I was fine with not even making it to the first round…
“You don’t look like you’re from here though.” I sighed as the words slipped so carelessly from their lips, so oblivious to the way I’d carry that burden with me wherever I go. The phrase echoed through my mind like a fly that I couldn’t quite catch, always hovering in my space without my knowledge. Without my permission. I never quite understood why it was so easy for people to tell I wasn’t South African. My passport says I was born there, my accent is a mixture of all the different cultures in the country, my mannerisms reflect what they were supposed to. Why was it so easy for me to look different?