If you told me two years ago that I’d like public speaking, I would’ve laughed, cried, and probably thrown up all at once. I used to physically shake holding notecards in front of a class of 20 people. Now? I walk into a room of judges, smile, and pitch a business I made up five minutes ago like it’s Shark Tank. What changed? One word: DECA.

Let’s rewind.

The First Role Play I Ever Did

Sophomore year. I picked Restaurant and Food Service Management because I figured, “I’ve worked in a restaurant, how hard could it be?” (Spoiler: very.) I remember sitting outside the competition room gripping my pencil so tight my hand cramped. When I finally walked in, my voice cracked so bad that my judge literally leaned forward like, “Are you okay?” I wasn’t.

I stumbled through my “hook,” read off performance indicators like they were a grocery list, and ended with, “So yeah, that’s my solution.” Iconic.

I didn’t place, obviously. But something weird happened afterward—I realized it wasn’t that bad. I didn’t die. No one booed. My judge even smiled at the end (probably out of pity, but still).

The DECA Effect

Fast-forward to now, and I’m the girl who asks to go first during presentations. Somewhere between those hundreds of practice role plays, mock judges, and 6 a.m. bus ride pep talks, I stopped seeing public speaking as a threat and started seeing it as a performance.

DECA forces you to get comfortable being uncomfortable. You learn how to think on your feet, make eye contact even when your brain is screaming, and fill awkward silences with confident nonsense (a valuable life skill, honestly).

It also taught me that “perfect” speaking doesn’t exist. You’re going to stutter. You’re going to lose your train of thought. You’re going to say “synergy” unironically at least once. The trick is learning to keep going—and make it look intentional.

My Weird Little Tricks

Over time, I built this tiny list of things that help me not sound like a malfunctioning robot during presentations:

• Smile (even if your soul is leaving your body). It resets your tone instantly.
• Move your hands. Standing still makes you sound stiff; moving feels natural.
• Pretend it’s a conversation, not a speech. Talk to the judges, not at them.
• Pause on purpose. The silence that feels awkward to you sounds confident to everyone else.
• Don’t memorize—internalize. Know your content, not your script.

And honestly? Once I stopped performing for perfection and started performing for connection, public speaking became kind of… fun. Like a game.

Full-Circle Moment

At ICDC this year, when they called my name as a finalist, I walked onto that stage in front of thousands of people and wasn’t scared. Not even a little. Just excited. I’d gone from trembling behind a podium to literally enjoying talking to a room full of strangers about business jargon I made up that morning.

That’s the DECA magic. It sneaks up on you. You join thinking you’re signing up for business experience, but you end up with life skills disguised as 10-minute presentations and awkward hotel lobbies.

So yeah, public speaking and I are cool now. I still get nervous sometimes, but it’s the good kind—the kind that reminds you you’re doing something that matters.

Oh, and if you ever need a confidence boost, just pretend you’re in a DECA role play. Works every time.