The spotlight is focused on Centre Stage.

And the microphone is set up.

A stage may be intangible, from my experience. Stages are mainly physical platforms of self-expression for me as a high school student, who regularly appears onstage as an actress, an MC, and a keynote speaker. Interestingly, the metaphorical meaning of intangible stages was discovered when I was at a rather early stage of growth.

Six years ago, a microphone to the 11-year-old me was absolutely magical. I vividly recall how I was rolling on my bed, totally unsusceptible to the sweetness of slumber. As a fifth-grader, I knew that I was going to embark on a memorable experience, for my voice would be heard across the more-than-600-year-old campus of Fuxue Primary School, by more than 3,000 students and faculty members.

You might challenge, given the richness of your personal history, the significance of a live broadcasting experience in defining an identity of personal significance in someone’s life. It would not have served as a trigger for a journey of self-rediscovery had I been confident enough to embrace every opportunity under the spotlight onstage, prior to the experience. At that time, even the simple act of standing in front of the classroom to present my ideas made me experience what ‘stage-fright’ meant, even though I was not even on a stage, literally speaking.

However, in front of that microphone which belonged to me, and me alone, from 13:20-13:30, I felt as if a new person had emerged out of me. The room was exposed to natural daylight, which to me was a more desirable setting than a theatre stage that is adorned with all the complicated schemes of lighting designs. The adorable lighting was giving the microphone an apparently gilded appearance. I placed both of my hands on the microphone, whose surface was rather cool on that autumn afternoon.

‘Starting in 5, 4, 3, 2’, the screen displayed a friendly countdown to me, ‘and 1 second’. That was the moment when I started speaking, greeting my peers across the school’s numerous buildings that were built back in the Ming Dynasty, forming the backdrop with no less magnificence and splendour than the Forbidden City.

They say that broadcast is ‘aired’. True. I could sense and even feel how my voice was flowing from the microphone to the spaces around me. I heard my voice amplified, echoing across the corridor, the buildings…and beyond. Each word I enunciated became a note in someone else’s head as part of a melody.

Ten minutes slipped away, and became so enjoyable that I had completely forgotten how timid I had been. Running around the playground and enjoying the tranquility of the now silent campus, I knew that my voice would still be resonating in others’ ears. As I stepped back in my classroom, entering from the front door, I paused for a moment at the front of the classroom, amazed at my peers’ expressions. They started clapping and cheering, all of a sudden. A truly memorable gift.

Over the years, I have fully grown into that person I discovered when I was alone on my intangible stage with that gilded microphone. 

The spotlight is focused on the centre of your stage, and the microphone is set up. Tell me: how have you been evolving on your personal stage?