Alexander Schaefer: The DSW Spelling Bee: The account of a woebegone participant

britische Premierministerin Margaret Thatcher und der franzoesiche Praesident Francois Mitterand sinn- gemaess erklärt hatten, sie schätzten Deutschland so sehr, dass ihnen zwei davon eigentlich lieber wären. Doch vor allem dank der eindeutigen Unterstuetzung der Wiedervereingung durch den US-Praesidenten Bush sen. ueberwogen am Ende eindeutig die Freude und Dankbarkeit ueber die Freiheit des deutschen Volkes, erklaerte Genscher.

Dass diese Freiheit auch in Deutschland hart umkaempft war, fuehrte uns Guenther Nooke in einem Diskussion an der Deutschen Schule vor Augen. Er beschrieb die Anstrengungen und Gefahren, die die ostdeutschen Buergerrechtler auf sich nahmen, um oeffentlich Gehoer zu finden. Diesen Menschen, die erst in kleinen Gruppen, spaeter zu zigtausenden auf die Strassen gingen und friedlich demonstrierten, ist es wesentlich mit zu verdanken, dass die Mauer am 9. November 1989 ohne einen einzigen Schuss fiel. Der 20. Jahrestag des Mauerfalls erinnerte an einen historischen Gluecksfall fuer die Deutschen und die Europeaer. Er praegt unsere Gegenwart in dem Bewusstsein darueber, dass wir in Dankbarkeit und Demut auf dieses Ereignis zurueckblicken duerfen. Er zeigt, dass man die Sehnsucht und das Beduerfnis jedes einzelnen nach Freiheit, Demokratie und Menschenrechten nicht auf Dauer unterdruecken kann. Und gleichermassen ist er ein Aufruf, diejenigen zu unterstuetzen, die in einem Unrechtstaat leben und fuer die Rechte, die uns in Europa heutzutage unverauesserlich und selbstverstaendlich scheinen, noch ein Traum sind. Der 9. November 1989 fuehrt uns vor Augen, welches Privileg der Freiheit wir geniessen, dass nicht unerreichbar bleiben darf. Er beweist, dass die Sehnsucht nach Freiheit auf friedlichem Wege bewirken kann, Mauern zu ueberwinden und Menschen zusammenzufuehren. Ein Sprichwort der Suaheli sagt: es ist besser, Bruecken zu bauen, statt Mauern. In diesem Sinne sollte sich unsere Generation engagieren, Bruecken der Toleranz zu errichten und bestehende Mauern zwischen Religionen, Kulturen und Laendern friedlich zu Fall zu bringen.

The DSW Spelling Bee: The account of a woebegone participant

Alexander Schaefer

Just the thought of standing in front of all those people believe made me sick to my I won the class spelling stomach. I bee; in fact, couldn t I think it was sheer luck, because I had never won any of the previous class spelling bees. Now I was about to participate in the DSW Middle School Spelling Bee.

There were going to be about fifty or so people watching, but even that small audience made my face grow pale. I suffered from stage fright. The only reason I didn t another one of drop out immediately was because my classmates, and my friend, had made it to second place, and he also had stage fright--maybe even more than I did. He also wanted to drop out, and if he did, the chances were I would too.

To add to the pressure, my mom, a National Geographic editor, had won many spelling bees herself as a young girl. In fact, she told me that at one point she was too good for her own class, so she eventually wasn't even allowed to participate. My mom would participate. be really disappointed if I didn t

I was confronted with an enormous amount of pressure and two of my least favorite things: facing fears and making choices. I was hesitating to

The author ponders words such as aborigine and woebegone during the 2011 DSW Spelling Bee. He was surprised about his own performance and learned a valuable lesson.

"Just the thought of standing in front of all those people made me sick to my stomach," recounts Alexander. But his estimate of facing 50 people in the audience was an underestimate; in fact, more than 200 students filled auditorium for the annual DSW Spelling Bee.

participate myself and thinking of finding a substitute. However, since it s only possible three to eight to participate, it for students in grades was the last chance. Another reason to go. Slowly, but effectively, I was being convinced. I looked at the clock. One hour to go until the spelling bee.

An hour before the actual Bee, my friend Stephan and I hastily thought the situation through. We didn't want to go because it would be embarrassing to lose against a fifth grader or some other kid younger than us. Another reason not to go. It was torture to choose, but we finally came to a decision. It was a difficult one and gave us butterflies. The usually calm school bell echoed and pounded annoying in my ears. It was the sound that signified the end of recess; the Spelling Bee was about five minutes away.

My friend and I exchange looks, seeing each other

nervousness. We would have rather gone into hiding s or fallen over dead, but we kept our promises to each other. My heart was beating and my stomach was knotted, but I was able to create a small amount of courage--enough to go into the Spelling Bee room and sit in the back, which I ruefully regretted later. We waited for the moment the announcer would call our names. Everything seemed to pass so quickly and slowly at the same time. I was starting to regret my decision; the voice of Ms. Minami, the announcer, distracted my thoughts: "Alex Schaefer, please come up to the stage." No going back now. I hesitated at first, and then walked from the back of the room to the front where the other contestants were seated. I stumbled into people as I went, thinking, Why didn t I just sit in the front? As the first round started, I noticed that the words were easy. The same situation occurred on the second round, and then the third. Gradually, participants were being disqualified and given sorry, that is incorrect." the discouraging words: I m Half an hour later, I saw that there were no eighth graders left, only me, which made me both excited and nervous. That was probably the weirdest feeling of the

entire experience, being the only eighth grader among other kids from grades below me.

When my turn came again, I saw that I was among the last five people. I walked up to the microphone and mentally prepared for the next word. "Your word is aborigine,

it, let Ms. Minami said. I had no idea how to write alone spell it. I responded and spelled it incorrectly. (I forget how I spelled it at this point.) A feeling of disappointment and relief washed over me. I had gotten so far, but I was happy to be relieved of being on stage. Fifth place. That wasn't so bad come to think of it. Later on, Fourth and third place contestants were disqualified, and second and first were reached by two kids--one of whom was in fifth grade. Surprisingly, it didn't bother me, I was just happy to be hidden and directed away from the attention.

When the announcer's voice reappeared, I was surprised by what she said: previous five rounds please All participants from the come up to the stage to battle for the third-place qualification round." I had completely forgotten that spelling bee rule. I felt kind of weird because I had left the stage, but I felt the warm light of hope to at least end up in the top three. As I got up onto the stage again, I surprisingly didn't care about the crowd watching me.

Students were again gradually disqualified. After a while there were only two participants left competing for third place--a girl and I. But it was my turn. I walked up to the microphone, expecting a super complex word. My heart was thundering at twice the normal rate.

"Your word is: woebegone." Woebegone. Great. I had no idea what the word meant or how to spell it. After a quick thought, I noticed my chances for spelling this word correctly were pretty low, so I just listened to my instinct and spelled: w-o-e-b-e-g-o-n-e. That was it. So much for trying, I thought.

I was already walking off the stage as the teacher

voice confused me. I registered it and was s extremely happy: "Correct!" I couldn't believe it. I thought that I was going to simply mess up the word and it would be spelled completely differently. I sat down proudly. As the girl went up to the microphone, I had a surge of hope that she would misspell her word, but at the same time I felt some sympathy for her, because after all, I probably wasn't the only one who was nervous here. In fact, I was the older one, the one who was supposed to be more used to this kind of stuff. This was her last chance. If she didn't get this right, she'd lose her chance to win a trophy. So there was a huge amount of pressure. Because I understood that, I also felt sorry for her. Of course, she was unlucky and misspelled her word. As she lost, I got up for my final word. If she misspelled it, I probably had to spell another word right to win, just as the winner of first and second place had to do. But I was wrong in a good way. Congratulations Alex, announcer exclaimed. you've earned third place!" the I was very proud and happy at that moment, even though it was third place. The first and second prizes were given to students younger than me. There was one weird thing: As a teacher took a photo of the three trophy holders, I had to duck down, which was kind of dorky because it was obvious I was the oldest, and I had won the least valuable of the three trophies. But I was happy. Strangely I didn't care that I was in third place: in fact, I was very happy and felt lucky to have gotten so far. That day I learned a lesson that will probably help me in life: Use the chance when you have one and don't let anything or anyone distract you from your goal. So what if some younger persons are better than me?! I guess they are talented at spelling, or are more advanced at it than I am. Instead of being jealous of the first-place girl, I wish her good luck in the advanced spelling bee, if she needs any.

"It was obvious that I was the oldest, and I had won the least valuable of the three trophies. But I was happy," says Alexander.