The Written Podcast: “Should I Go First?” – Group Activities with Strangers

We’ve all been there. Group activities. They make some of us shudder by the mere thought of attending them. The necessity to step up in front of a group of strangers and talk, what can possibly be worse?

The dreaded ice-breakers. Is it too much to ask to attend these sessions, do the work, and then go home? Do we really have to introduce ourselves to complete strangers? Surely everyone cares about why they’re attending these sessions than who are attending? Unless of course the reason why they’re attending is to be more confident when in a group session, a self-fulfilling paradox, one might say.

There are two big questions when having to introduce yourself, and that’s whether it’s better to go first or to go last. We all rather not go at all, but since we normally don’t have a choice in the matter, dare I say, it’s better to go first. Get it over and done with. Just do it. The sooner you stand up and declare who you are the sooner you can sit back down. Once firmly back in your seat, you may not have the need to get up again until the end of class. Except, going first is easier said than done.

Have you ever heard the silence when the tutor asks who’s going first and everyone awkwardly looks around the room, wondering who is going to stand up, and since no one is, if they should just bite the bullet and be first, getting it over and done with as quickly as possible? That particular silent moment is deafening, purely because your heart is beating tenfold, your breaths are louder than ever you’re surprised no one is homing in on you, and you’re wondering if there really is the power of invisibility lying dormant inside you all along and it takes this moment to finally be awakened.

Then you hear the dreaded words. Every tutor says them in their own way, but the message is plain and simple. “One of you have to be first.” Translating those words states this session will not continue until everyone has introduced themselves, which only ramps up the awkwardness even further.

I’ve been first before, through choice or by being chosen, and I’ve been last before for the same reasons. I can tell you going last is definitely worse. The looming inevitability of having to step up in front of the class and talk grows ever closer with each person finishing their introductions. It’s during watching these people feel relief that they’ve finished do you realise you should have gone first – because you really want to feel relief. You really want to be in that position where you can say you never have to do that again. If only you plucked up the courage to go first… but why didn’t you? A question that doesn’t have an answer.

The worst possible situation when having to stand up and talk to the class happened to me during high school. We were all required to create a small presentation about something we like, whether it be a hobby, an object, a pet, a family member in history – the choice was totally ours. I went for our recently adopted pet cat, Annie, who sadly passed away a couple of years ago due to attracting cancer in the mouth. I constructed the presentation with the knowledge that we’d have to actually present it to the class. That dreaded moment only but grew in strength from when the teacher informed us of what we need to do. We had an entire week to make our presentations on the computer.

D-day came. We were required to stand up and show our presentations. The teacher did not ask who wanted to go first, but instead followed the register. I was several names down that register, and knew who exactly I’d have to follow. I wasn’t going to be last, nor first, but my goodness did the inevitability loomed over me then. I never felt anything like that before. If I thought it was strong during group sessions with strangers, it has never come close to rivalling that of being in a classroom filled with people you do know.

Our presentations were required to be about 10 – 15 minutes long, but as this was a few years ago, technical difficulties were stronger to defeat than today, mainly because we didn’t know what the heck we were doing, especially our teacher, who of course, will remain nameless.

During waiting for my turn, time became meaningless to me. It wasn’t about when in time I’d be required to present, but when in a list – but for some strange reason everyone’s presentation felt as if they were only 2 minutes long but they were still praised and passed… not sure how that worked, but hey, I was young and ignorant. The person before me on the list stood up and strangely immediately sat back down again. Did they even do their presentation. They literally walked to the front of the class and then walked back to their seat. Was that their entire presentation? Because if it was, that was a hack I should have thought of. But that wasn’t important, because it was no my time.

“Unfortunately we’re not out of time, we’ll have to resume tomorrow. Antony, you’ll be first.” I’ve never heard such horrific words in my entire life. I was about to get my presentation over and done with. I had spent the entire lesson attempting to ready myself for the inevitability of everyone’s eyes fixated on me, watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake, laugh at me and spread the story of the boy who messed up during his presentation. My heart was aching with beating so fast for an entire hour. Non-stop stress building up in my head. Only to be denied of doing it; denied of getting it over and done with; denied with the happiness of it all being over for good. Only to have to go home and wait for tomorrow’s lesson, where I’d be first up. What the hell had I done to deserve such punishment?

I spent that evening equally angry and nervous. The next day did eventually roll around and the lesson finally started, and it was now my turn to talk in front of the class. I survived. I managed to make it through without problems. I was a bit monotone throughout, with very little gestures or smiles, but I made it from one end of the presentation to the other, and by the time I was allowed to sit back down at my desk, a tsunami of relief practically knocked me over. The rest of the lesson went on with me watching other people stumble through their presentations.

I wish not to go through that experience again. At least with every group session I’ve had to attend, my turn was not delayed, whether it was by choice or not. So, despite the awkwardness that are the group sessions, I’m safe with the knowledge of not having to go through that ever again.

Thanks for reading

Antony Hudson

(TonyHadNouns)