Why Being a Talkative Student Is Both a Curse and a Superpower

Oh the horror! Being expressive in class, then being called out by the teacher for “disruptive behavior”. Like, lady, just straight up call me an untamed dog, at this point. Save me the indirect insult. 

As you can imagine, someone who suffers with Yappititis is completely helpless when it comes to shutting up. This obviously means I’m blabbering through lunch, english, math, science, history—you name it! If the teachers are on medication for severe headaches, I am probably the one to blame. 

But nothing is more terrifying than being told to “behave myself” and “keep quiet”. Like, excuse me, miss, are you trying to DIM MY LIGHT?! The audacity.

On a serious note, it is a gut-twisting feeling, when the teachers tell me to silence in front of the whole class. It’s just so embarrassing to be called out for simply being yourself. Because, I don’t see the teacher yelling at the mute girl in the back for “disrupting” class with her quietness. It’s disrespectful and misbehaving when I’m embracing my personality traits, but respectful and humble when the depressed students are embracing theirs? I smell injustice. 

The sad part about being a talkative student is how we are never enough. Not participating and talking is a sign of lack of enthusiasm. But, talking (and gabbling) is a sign of misbehavior? LIke pick a side! 

Besides the social issues people like me encounter everyday, serious problems arise when I’m writing. Being a chatter-box means there are thoughts going on in my head like a hundred tabs opened on Chrome. So, naturally, when I get an English question (particularly in Literature), I tend to have so much to say—or in this case, write, that I can never finish any answer without going over the word limit! Same goes for creative writing, being loquacious means I have so much to project that it NEVER stays in the word limit. Word limits are stupid, anyway. Why are you telling me to restrict my thoughts and creativity?!

I remember we had to write a narrative once, the limit was 350 words. I may, or may not have written somewhere near a thousand words… The teacher obviously didn't accept it, so I spent hours reducing the words, while keeping the quality of my story good. This happened, again in another class, and once again, I spent one business day getting rid of my sacred thoughts on the paper.

From another perspective, this trait could be a blessing, for the same reason. Being garrulous means I have a lot to write; I’m always inspired. I can write long essays, where they’re required, without being stuck, because of “no ideas”. In questions I’ve seen my quiet friends struggle, my talkative and over-thinker self scribbles the answers, like I was born solely to write them. I guess having too many ideas is better than no ideas at all.

The most recent English Literature exam didn’t really have a word limit for the novel-based questions. So, I was able to write SO MUCH in the answers, with evidence, explanation, opinions, et cetera that my English teacher publicly appreciated my answers! “So descriptive and deep!” she said.

Aside from the written work, I think being voluble is a HUGE advantage, when presenting. It’s also a power-up in speaking tests. Like one of my strengths, which I’m completely confident in, is my ability to present. I won’t even rehearse or prepare before-hand, but still, because I’m conversational, I’ll be able to speak fluently without so much as breaking a sweat! I must say, it’s like my superpower. 

In the past, I’ve been qualified for second rounds of SO MANY debates and speeches, mostly earning a prize too. But most importantly, I am praised so much for being able to express myself in presentations, and projects! And I love it!

In the end, the benefits are worth way more than the drawbacks of rambling. So, once again, I won’t EVER change. Let the teachers insult me, because they’re the same teachers who think my presenting and writing skills are commendable.

— Hoor, Professional Rambler.