Asia C.
This was me during my Formal Wear Competition.
Being quiet sticks with you. It sticks when you’re standing next to your parents instead of talking to the group of teenagers who keep glancing over at you. It sticks when you panic before a speech presentation. And it definitely sticks when someone says, “I didn’t even know you were in this class.”
People say it’s a blessing for teachers but a curse for peace of mind. For me, it’s just always been part of who I am.
Who knew that a “silly” little pageant would begin to change that?
It all started when a letter came in the mail. My dad tossed it onto my desk. In bold pink letters it read: National American Miss and “Open Call.”
Next thing I knew, I was writing a resume. Then I was sitting in front of a judge, nervously talking about rom-coms and Taylor Swift, as he tried to “get to know me better.” Somehow, those conversations led to my selection for Pre-Teen Miss California in Scottsdale, Arizona.
On July 20, 2023, I arrived at a Hilton hotel with a suitcase full of sparkly dresses, a stomach full of nerves, and a strong desire to turn back around and head home to the comfort of Rancho Cucamonga.
As the competitions began, I found myself walking through hallways lined with glitter, the click of high heels echoing on the floor, and a pin labeled 206 poking into my hip. Despite the nerves, I pushed forward:
Introduction speech — check.
One-on-one interviews — check.
Formal wear runway — check.
All three major parts of the competition were complete.
Then came the final day: the award ceremony and crowning. I expected it to feel like just another performance. But it didn’t. This time, it felt different. Standing on that stage, I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t scared. I actually felt…proud.
When they announced the awards, I stood tall:
Miss Congeniality
1st place for Best Thank You Card
1st place in the Art Contest
1st runner-up for Best Resume
4th runner-up for Runway
And finally, Top Ten in the State for Pre-Teen Miss California.
My silence isn’t completely gone—but thanks to N.A.M., I’ve learned how to work with it. Presentations and talking to new people aren’t as terrifying anymore, even if I still don’t love it.
Now, as I wrap up middle school, I see the 6th and 7th grade girls who are quiet like I was. I get it. And I hope that whatever paths they choose—whether it’s a pageant, a sport, or a school play—they find their own way to break out of that silence, even just a little.
I plan to return to N.A.M. next summer. When I do, I want to look back and remember how far I’ve come—from being scared and silent to standing strong in a pair of high heels in one of those ridiculous, poofy dresses.
As Sandra Bullock’s character Gracie Hart once said in Miss Congeniality: “I know I’m going to miss the heels, because they do something for my posture.”
And maybe, just maybe, for my confidence too.