Bee Experience: Winning Plano District Spelling Bee

by William Yue

I opened the doors and entered the room. My principal was already inside waiting for me, and she encouraged me to win. I went to the side table and drew a number. I looked at it and walked swiftly to my seat numbered 13. “What an unlucky number”, I thought. As I sat down, I scanned my eyes over the audience members, and saw my school’s principal sitting there ……. I have a brief flashback remembering how I battled through 17 rounds of school round spelling bee words. I took champion. I remembered how a former student graduates there had ended up in national spelling bee. I worked hard in attempt to match him. I rethink through all the spelling rules, such as Old English origin words being spelt pretty much as how they’re pronounced, Greek origin words with the sound of the short “i” are spelt mostly with “y” and the “f” sound being usually spelled with “ph”, and Japanese origin words almost never have double consonants, with a few exceptions.

I was in my seat reviewing origin rules in my mind, and waiting for the microphone to be passed to me, as the other 50 tense, nervous, and assured school champions spelt out their words. Now it was my turn. I was handed the microphone and I stood up, fairly confident in my ability, since I knew all of the competition’s words. “Bountiful” the announcer announced. I repeated the word, and slowly and steadily spelt bountiful. They confirmed my spelling and I handed the microphone to the next contestant. Since I spelt the first word right, I confidently awaited my next word. Round 1 ended, and round 2 started. The microphone was handed to me. “Bellow” was my word. I politely asked for the definition, and then once again began to spell out the word. By the end of round 2, half of the people were gone. This went on for 2 more rounds with increasing difficulty. For rounds this continued, bountiful, bellow, polymathic, and paraphrasable, now it was time for the final round. By then, only few were left standing, yet to fall.

Palms sweaty, legs shaking, I awaited my final word. If I got this word correct, I would win the spelling bee. It was my turn, and I unwillingly stood up. I was handed the microphone. The pronouncer asked the audience members to quiet down for this final round. My mom, principal, and many other people were watching, eyes on me. There was a lot of pressure on my shoulders. The word was given. “Purveyor”, the pronouncer says, I repeat the word, getting how it sounds. After asking the definition, alternate pronunciations, and part of speech, I turned to the judges. “P-u-r-v-e-y-o-r” I said slowly. I waited for the bell to ring stating my spelling is incorrect, yet none ring. I had gotten the word right and won the spelling bee. The judges and pronouncer congratulated me, and I was qualified for the county spelling bee. I won my certificate and walked to where my parents are sitting. I remembered how my teachers at spell success taught me certain rules, I remembered how I never gave up, and I remembered my parents telling me to keep on going, and pursue spelling. As I left, I thought about these things, and walked through the same doors, happily, not nervously.