Whenever the term motivational speaker is introduced to a conversation, I instantaneously imagine an overly enthusiastic man, preparing to deliver the same watered-down, cookie cutter speech that has roamed the halls of every high school. Therefore, it was only natural for me to shrink back in fatigued anguish at the thought of having to endure the same torturous event in which I would be expected to appreciate with mock enticement. Mr. Christopher Taylor is a man of too many words and very little tolerance for ignorance. Walking into the room, the weight of his presence was awakening. Something about the way my older peers glanced at him with the up most respect sent a trigger alerting me to the significance of him. Although he sat patiently through his detailed introduction, his eyes focused around the room, seemingly categorizing each student into a database, well organized through years of practice. Light applause trailed him as he took a firm stance in the front of the ballroom. Deceptively, he began with generalized questions about how people perceive each other, trivial knowledge that determined little, other than the common sense of his audience. After a series of varyingly mediocre topics, Mr. Taylor quieted down and pondered to himself for a second, gaining his thoughts and deciding how best to approach the next topic,
“How many of you are pre-med students?” he asked inquisitively. I was one of many of the proud students who raised their hands. Nodding in acceptance, he continued with a sinister grin, “A show of hands, how many of your parents are doctors?” He searched the room for one proud hand, yet, none could be seen. With mock surprise, he indulged the curious crowd as to the direction of his questions.
“I just left USM a few honors ago, delivering a speech to students with much the same career path as all of you. But somehow, when I asked if their parents were in the same profession as him, almost all of their hands raised. Why is that?”
His question bounced across the room, as no soul dared to state what we all had in our hearts. He continued on, telling us about how, as African Americans, we have a harder time getting to the fields that we dedicate so much of our time and dedication to because we do not have the advantages of a majority of the other pre-medicine students. We have to work harder, longer, and with more concentration than some of the others. Unlike what a majority of those have come to believe, it is not only due to the color of our skin, but because of the depth of our history. For twenty minutes, I hung on his words, inquisitive of any advantage he could present to me. The effect of his words upon the students was stunning. Mr. Taylor watched as most of the same students whom so eagerly raised their hands just minutes before, not sat dejectedly, almost as if staring into the bleakness of their future. To pacify the stillness in the room, he allowed us to take his personal information, insisting we hunt him down with questions. His allotted time dwindling, a final question covered the audience.
“How badly do you want it? Enough to give up those Thursday party nights? Enough to choose studying for that Algebra test rather than going to the step show? Enough to set aside all of the inhibitions that you have set against yourself saying that can’t do it?” He rampaged on, until his voice dulled into a whisper, and almost as if the wind had then ballooned inside of his chest, he sang. He sang of accepting yourself, and knowing when your time will be, for just as no flowers bloom in the same season, neither do we. Thundering applause cascaded with his footsteps, whoops and hollers complimented his broadened smile, and jaw-dropping acceptance was left in his trail. As was my respect for the only man I have yet to hear, that has inspired me to put a new-found fire underneath the heated pot I already sit in. Every day that a class seems too tedious, or uninteresting, I remind myself of why I have to preserve: my need to show anyone that doubts me that setting limits are meant for the highways, and the fact that I had the most honorable pleasure of being able to hear the inspirational speech of Mr. Christopher Taylor.