Memoir

Spelling Bee

A Medley of Spelling Bee Events

Having obsessive compulsive disorder tends to make me hyper-focus on certain things. Discovering that I’ve had it my whole life made me realize why certain things affect me as much as they do. Doctors told me the medications I take for my condition might affect my memory. Thusly, my recollection of past events is very spotty, but something happened in my life that had a huge impact on me. Sometimes I reflect and wonder if my reaction was warranted or not, sometimes I wonder if the OCD has anything to do with it. Often times I feel silly for putting so much stock into what seems like a meaningless elementary school competition. Regardless of how objectively significant my fifth-grade spelling bee was, it seemed to have an impact beyond meaningless playground woes. Consequently, to this day I can vividly remember losing the spelling bee in fifth grade. Experiences early in one’s life often have a notable impact for years to come. When I was in fifth grade I lost the spelling bee to a lowerclassman, and that failure continues to haunt me to this day.

I was attending a private school in Kansas. They announced the bee and our teachers gave us impromptu spelling tests to judge which students would compete. Two male and two female students from each class were selected based on the results of the test. I vividly recall taking the exam for the competition and being so proud when my teacher told me I made the cut. My parents were extremely proud of me as well, especially my father. I remember him telling me about his experience in the school’s spelling bee. Desperately craving any sort of validation from him, I studied the list of words provided day and night. I did have plenty of time as a fifth grader at a private school to study. I believe I was more concerned studying the word list for an elementary school spelling bee than I was for my General Education Diploma. Not only did I spend most of my home time studying, the three other students from my class and I were given time out of the regular school day to go off into another room and quiz each other. I thought the special privileges we received made me feel almost as good as being told I was one of the students who excelled in the qualifier exam in the first place.

The air was just getting colder and the briskness seemed to signify what sort of experience this would become. I cannot quite recall how much time passed after the qualifier test to the actual spelling bee, but no amount could prepare me for the massive blow to my ego it would be. The fifth graders ran the school, as seniors ran the high school. I was untouchable. The other girl who qualified was my friend, and I would never say this to her, but I knew I was smarter than her. That was one competitor already conquered. My male peers also stood no chance. I assumed that since I was a fifth grader I would blow the lowerclassmen out of the water and snag an easy victory. Believe it or not, I was wrong. I could spell photosynthesis and conscientiousness without batting an eyelash. Little did I know the word that would trip me up is arguably leagues easier to spell than those. I am still not sure of the exact reason I lost. There are combinations of factors I think each contributed to the failure. I don’t think my confidence alone killed me, and in hindsight, I should have reviewed the “easier” words more frequently. That is probably what the smug little fourth grader who beat me did. It was one thing to lose the spelling bee, but a whole different mess to lose to a fourth grader. I do not think anyone read into the details as much as I did, and they say that one’s biggest critic is oneself, but it still tears me up to this day.

The competitors and I shuffled awkwardly in the line they placed us in. We stood in front of the expecting panel of our teachers who took on the role of the judges. I’ve never been one to hog the limelight, so standing there in the auditorium in front of at least a hundred spectators drained so much of my energy. I could not let that affect me. Students were eliminated one by one, like bugs when they fly into a zapper. The first and second graders misspelled their words quickly, and soon it was a competition between third, fourth, and fifth graders. Every time I had to stand up to spell a word, I got it right. I do not recall the exact words I had to spell, but I remember there were a few where I asked for the definition. The competition was going well, and I was thankful for the little cards we wore around our neck. I used the card to “write” the word given to me before I spoke aloud. Most of the children had a similar strategy, spelling the word with their finger on the laminated sheet. Eventually, it came down to a fourth grader that I knew nothing about, and me. Her family was in the crowd supporting her, as were most of the competitors’ parents. Sadly, I had no one to cheer for me, not even my sister, because the teachers did not allow students to miss class if they weren’t participating. My father said he would try his best to attend, but was working, and my mother was probably keeping herself busy with some housework. Regardless, I think them not being there negatively impacted me even though I knew they were cheering for me. I had to spell first, and my word was soprano. I have no clue how I managed to misspell such a simple word. My guess is that I was not used to seeing it, and my lack of prior knowledge was the reason I lost. The girl spelled soprano and was given a final word to spell. I could only win if she missed this word. “Medley”, the judge said. My heart immediately sank upon hearing this. I assumed she knew how to spell it, and she did. The little fourth grader just beat me. I waited for the celebration to calm down a bit before I completely lost it. I was bawling. I know lots of people that would be happy with a second-place finish. Hell, I should’ve been happy. Instead, I was crying while the other competitors all seemed happy and smiled for the yearbook staff. I was a red-faced, disheveled mess in the picture now cemented in the yearbook.

I did not want to cry. The fact that I got second place and was the only one visibly upset in the yearbook picture was upsetting. That alone made me so embarrassed beyond belief. That was one negative impact, but there were plenty more. Losing to a fourth grader was devastating, and I feel like it has affected my self-confidence even as an adult. My dad won his spelling bee, so the fact I could not follow in his footsteps upset me. There were positives, and despite my loss, I feel as if I managed to benefit in a way. The experience helped me strengthen my bond with my father. He was proud of me and was cheering me on in spirit. The loss humbled me and made me grow as a person.

I cannot remember a lot of events or details from my life, but to this day I can vividly remember losing the spelling bee in fifth grade. I believe I can contribute it to my fixation on certain things, and my need for perfection. Even though I consider it a failure, I managed to snag a respectable (by some) second place. When it happened, I was completely heartbroken, as much as I can be as a fifth grader. I am still upset by the loss, but now understand more clearly how it changed me. I recognize it as such a vital point in my life, but sometimes when I remember my reaction, it seems so silly and meaningless. The spelling bee was my “coming of age” and I am thankful for the experience.