As the inter-school Toastmasters competition drew nearer, Joyce found herself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The initial excitement of being selected to participate had given way to a gnawing anxiety that seemed to grow with each passing day. She sat at her desk, her math textbook open before her, but her mind was far from the equations that sprawled across the pages.

Joyce’s fingers absently traced the doodles in the margins of her notebook – intricate patterns and whimsical characters that had become her silent companions through countless study sessions. These drawings, once a source of comfort, now seemed to mock her divided attention.

“Joyce?” Mdm Leong’s voice cut through her reverie. “Are you studying or daydreaming again?”

Joyce’s head snapped up, her cheeks flushing with guilt. “I’m studying, Mom. Just… taking a little break.”

Mdm Leong’s brow furrowed as she approached, her eyes falling on the doodle-filled margins. “This doesn’t look like studying to me. The competition is just around the corner, and your mid-year exams are coming up too. You need to focus on what’s important.”

The words stung, despite their familiar ring. Joyce felt a lump forming in her throat. “But Mom, the competition is important too. Mrs. Ng says—”

“Mrs. Ng isn’t the one who has to worry about your future,” Mdm Leong interrupted, her voice sharp. “Your grades are what matter most right now. This Toastmasters thing… it’s just a distraction.”

Joyce’s shoulders slumped as she watched her mother leave the room. The doubt that had been simmering beneath the surface began to boil over. Was her mother right? Was she foolish to think she could balance both her academic struggles and her newfound passion for public speaking?

The next day at school, Joyce found herself unable to concentrate during lessons. Even Mrs. Ng’s usually engaging English class failed to capture her attention. As the bell rang signaling the end of the school day, Joyce lingered behind, her heart heavy.

Mrs. Ng, noticing Joyce’s subdued demeanor, approached her desk. “Joyce, is everything alright? You seemed distracted today.”

Joyce looked up at her teacher, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Mrs. Ng, I… I don’t know if I can do this. The competition, I mean. Maybe my mom is right. Maybe I should just focus on my studies.”

Mrs. Ng’s expression softened as she pulled up a chair beside Joyce. “Why don’t we talk about this? Tell me what’s going on.”

And so, in the quiet of the empty classroom, Joyce poured out her fears and doubts. She spoke of her mother’s disapproval, her own struggles with math, and the crushing weight of expectations that seemed to grow heavier by the day.

Mrs. Ng listened patiently, her warm brown eyes never leaving Joyce’s face. When Joyce finally fell silent, Mrs. Ng reached out and gently squeezed her hand.

“Joyce, do you remember the first time you spoke up in our Toastmasters meeting?” Mrs. Ng asked.

Joyce nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her melancholy. “I was so nervous. My hands were shaking.”

“But you did it anyway,” Mrs. Ng reminded her. “And do you remember how you felt afterward?”

“I felt… proud,” Joyce admitted. “Like I had conquered something big.”

Mrs. Ng nodded encouragingly. “That’s right. And since then, I’ve watched you grow more confident with each meeting. Your speeches have improved, and so has your ability to think on your feet.”

Joyce’s brow furrowed. “But what about my grades? Mom says they’re the most important thing.”

“Your grades are important,” Mrs. Ng agreed, “but they’re not the only measure of your worth or your potential. The skills you’re developing through Toastmasters – critical thinking, creativity, confidence – these are all valuable tools that can help you in your studies and beyond.”

She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. “Joyce, have you noticed any changes in how you approach your schoolwork since joining Toastmasters?”

Joyce thought for a moment. “Well… I guess I feel more comfortable asking questions in class now. And sometimes, when I’m stuck on a math problem, I try to explain it out loud to myself, like I’m giving a speech. It helps me understand it better.”

Mrs. Ng’s face lit up. “Exactly! You’re already applying what you’ve learned in Toastmasters to your academics. Your public speaking skills and your studies aren’t separate things – they’re interconnected, each supporting and enhancing the other.”

Joyce felt a glimmer of hope stirring within her. “So… you don’t think I should quit?”

“Absolutely not,” Mrs. Ng said firmly. “I think you should embrace this opportunity. It’s a chance to showcase your unique talents and to grow in ways you might not even realize yet.”

She leaned in, her voice gentle but earnest. “Joyce, do you enjoy Toastmasters?”

“I love it,” Joyce admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “When I’m up there speaking, I feel… like myself. Like I can be heard.”

Mrs. Ng smiled warmly. “Then that’s your answer. It’s important to work hard in your studies, but it’s equally important to nurture the parts of yourself that make you unique. Your creativity, your storytelling ability – these are gifts, Joyce. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you have to choose between them and your academics.”

Joyce felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She sat up straighter, her eyes shining with renewed determination. “But what about my mom? She still doesn’t understand.”

“Your mother wants what’s best for you,” Mrs. Ng said carefully. “Sometimes, as parents, we can get so focused on one path to success that we forget there are many ways to excel. Maybe after the competition, she’ll see how much you’ve grown.”

Joyce nodded, hope blooming in her chest. “I’ll keep working hard on both. I promise.”

“That’s all anyone can ask of you,” Mrs. Ng said, standing up. “And Joyce? Remember that it’s okay to feel nervous or doubtful sometimes. What matters is how you face those feelings.”

As Joyce packed up her things, she felt a new sense of purpose. The doubt hadn’t disappeared entirely, but it no longer seemed as overwhelming. She had a right to pursue her passions, to explore her talents. And maybe, just maybe, her mother would come to understand that too.

That evening, as Joyce sat at her desk, she looked at her math homework with fresh eyes. Instead of seeing it as a dreaded chore, she imagined explaining the concepts to an audience, just like in Toastmasters. To her surprise, the numbers began to make more sense.

When Mdm Leong peeked into the room, she found Joyce speaking softly to herself, working through a particularly tricky problem. She paused, watching her daughter with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Joyce?” she said softly. “How’s the studying going?”

Joyce looked up, a small smile on her face. “It’s going better, Mom. I’m trying something new – explaining the problems out loud, like I’m giving a speech. It’s helping me understand them better.”

Mdm Leong’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? That’s… that’s good, Joyce. Keep it up.”

As she closed the door, Mdm Leong felt a twinge of uncertainty. Perhaps there was more to this Toastmasters thing than she had initially thought. She made a mental note to pay closer attention to Joyce’s progress, both in her studies and in her public speaking endeavors.

Meanwhile, Joyce turned back to her work, her heart lighter than it had been in days. The competition still loomed ahead, bringing with it a mix of excitement and nerves. But now, armed with Mrs. Ng’s encouragement and a newfound understanding of her own strengths, Joyce felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As she practiced her speech that night, weaving her words around the vibrant doodles she had created, Joyce realized something important. Her love for speaking and her artistic talents weren’t distractions from her studies – they were part of who she was. And embracing all parts of herself might just be the key to unlocking her full potential.

With renewed determination, Joyce looked toward the future. The competition would be a test, not just of her speaking skills, but of her ability to believe in herself. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind filled with possibilities, Joyce made a silent promise. No matter what happened, she would stand tall, speak her truth, and let her unique voice be heard.