The maturation of persuasion

[1]

A very tall student glided through the crowd. She was at the height that made her visible in a crowd, no matter how invisible she made herself. She stood out, which was the last thing she wanted now, especially with predatory seniors circling the fresh faces and waiting to pounce at potential club members.

“Hey, do you play an sports?” the tall student looked down to see a sunny senior who managed to slice through the butter of people she surrounded herself with. Of course not, she replied.

“Of course not? That is such a pity!” the senior continued, pitching for the opportunity to bring forth her intentions.

The very tall student peered closely at the senior’s face and without a trace of doubt knew she was an athlete. She had that look that radiated the energy she had absorbed from the sun.

“Are you interested in any clubs so far?”

“Not really.” she replied, mostly out of obligation to not disrespect the senior.

“How about joining us? The basketball booth is right there. Do you want me to bring you there?”

She gave a vague smile, unsure of how to answer. The senior would not have it, “Alright, then what other clubs are you considering?”

Volleyball had approached her, netball before that. She told the senior that.

“Bah,” the sunny senior made a face, “Join basketball if you’re not against it. The volleyballers train longer than us, sometimes even more frequently too. The netballers are not good either. Do you want to hear what I’ve heard about them? Apparently the seniors there are really strict with newcomers like you. Joining us is better, you see? Do I not look friendly?”

The very tall student nodded. She did manage to understand what each club thought of each other. Not in any positive aspects of course.

[2]

The lithe and quick-footed student was packing his bag, guzzling some water, drying his sweat, when the senior who had lead the session approached him. The student was by no means outstanding, if one simply observed him standing there guzzling water. But the senior had watched him move during the trial.

“Did you play any sports?” the lithe student looked to his left, where the senior had plopped himself down in the midst of his water break.

“Yes, a little.”

“A little? Don’t be so humble. What did you play?” the senior laughed a little.

The lithe student, now motionless and physically unremarkable, peered at his questioner. He was sure anyone could have made a guess if they wanted to, but there were too many options to choose from which he could have applied his skills.

“Table-tennis.”

“Table-tennis…” the senior appeared to contemplate, “you wouldn’t happen to want to want to continue playing that, would you?”

The student kept his water bottle and his towel and vaguely shook his head, anticipating the senior closing in on this opportunity.

“If you would like to try something new, why not join us? No pressure or anything, but your quick footwork is a huge strength in Squash. Not too big a jump for you either, since it involves using a racket and a ball. It is simply a difference of size and shape.”

At this, the quick-footed student raised his eyebrows. The simplification of different sports amused him. Only a difference of size and shape, huh?

The senior was encouraged, “Squash is like a family, I try not to boast but, I think we have one of the strongest senior-junior relationships. We learn from everyone and we befriend each other. Not a bad way to spend your time, right?”

The lithe student nodded, contemplating on how to make his choice with the same abundance of information. There is an obvious lack of any dirt or gossip to aid him.

[3]

The lecture theatre had filled out and the well-built lecturer stood, hands in pockets, smiling at no one in particular. He knew he looked upright, like a man of words in the way he pushed his blue checked shirt sleeves to his elbows.

“Welcome to the History lecture today,” he started promptly when the hour hand fell into place, speaking to only those seated and ignoring the late comers streaming in. He proceeded to give a brief rundown of what to expect from History lessons, clear in his speech and brimming with an easy confidence. He made it clear he was a matured adult in his mannerism, as well as physically embodying his dedication to his physique. He spoke as if speaking to everyone, but the way he gestured suggests that he only had time to entertain those who were open to taking history as a subject. To the rest, he was not going to grovel or beg for their attention.

“You will enjoy your time if you enjoy shoveling through reading materials and would like to hone your critical thinking. Of course, we all would like to think that we do have critical thinking capacities. Language mastery is secondary to all that, so do not worry if your essays had never been acknowledged by your english teachers.”

“I do need to contextualize what I am saying at this point: you are free to choose Economics if you want, but in the case that you should consider taking History, I would just like you to know that you would not be missing out on some Economic principles.” he began his preamble.

“That is an integral aspect of studying the global economy in our syllables. However, we would not be focusing on the supply-demand thing and how government policies are affected by it. Fear not, in History you do not need to read or draw graphs.” he was full of meaning when he said it such that after a momentary pause, the lecture theatre was buzzing with discussion of students who were unsure if they had misheard what he said.

After taking some time to settle down, he continued addressing the scrutinizing audience, “Ultimately it is your choice, but I do think that Math and Economics are the same thing, whereas for History there is not a subject that could replace us.”

The theatre was in an uproar as students made exclamations. Mostly out of a conditioned response to throwing shade. The well-built conductor standing amidst the noise smiled, content with his mature and subtle ways of persuasion.