Lift Every Voice

Hello, my name is Michael Ikechukwu, and I’m a rising junior from Cypress Ranch High School in Texas. I compete in Dramatic Interpretation and Program Oral Interpretation. For the majority of this past season I have found myself struggling. Due to my performance, I’m often left feeling like I didn’t deserve to be heard. Feeling like my voice doesn’t carry weight, as if my perspective on this activity doesn’t matter.

But everything shifted after the last preliminary round I competed in at this past year’s NIETOC. For the first time, I felt truly connected to the story I was telling. I left that round with a deeper understanding of the queer experience, one that went beyond identity and into the complexity of relationships. I finally understood what it means to humanize your parents, to see them not just as a mother or father, but as people with their own struggles, fears, and limitations. I found myself reaching a place of empathy and even forgiveness. That performance reminded me that speech is not about perfection. It’s about connection. And in that moment, I realized my voice did matter, not because it was flawless, but because it was honest.

Still, as I walked back to the cafeteria to wait for breaks, doubt crept in. I started to question whether anyone would even care about this newfound clarity. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I hadn’t broken at my state tournament. In my mind, that failure disqualified me. I believed that because I didn’t have the accolades to back it up, the experience I had just lived through something so personal and transformative… meant nothing.

And this is the heart of my concern. There are thousands of competitors across the nation who feel like they don’t matter. They feel invisible because they’re not in final rounds or posting trophies on their stories. They feel like their ideas, their emotions, and their stories have no place in this activity unless they come with a rank attached.

And that’s really where the idea of Lift Every Voice began. After talking with a few people from this very organization, something clicked. For the first time, I felt like there might actually be space for someone like me. The thought that my voice could not only exist, but be heard and respected, started to feel real. It wasn’t just some distant dream anymore. It was something I could reach for. And honestly, it felt necessary. Because when so many young people are made to feel invisible or like their stories don’t matter, creating something like Lift Every Voice became bigger than just me. It became about making room for others who had been pushed aside or silenced. It became about showing them that their voice doesn’t just belong here. It can lead. It can inspire. It can change everything.

My hope is that in an activity that seems to be primarily focussed on competition we can find the heart and soul in every competitor. I want to use this platform to allow everyone to speak on what they believe should be brought front and center in this activity. I believe it's time we expand our voices beyond just the competition stage and bring them to a platform where everyone will listen and work to respond, so we can finally lift every voice.