What MUNning taught me about facing my fears

Oh yes, oh yes. I remember being there, too. Seemingly the only delegate who doesn't know what 'EB' stood for, or what a point is raised for, when every other person in that room has lost themselves in an immersive diplomatic experience. Two years back, something made me write the MUN club entrance test (God knows I'd blanch seeing my answer sheet now) and enter that Nursery classroom, now converted into the MUN club room. Now, when I slip sometimes into a stream of thoughts (if I'm not talking, that's what I'm doing), I ask myself how I ended up there. Back then, though, I sometimes wondered why I ended up there. 

I joined the club as somebody who was unsure of whether the Amazons were in South America or Africa. I was the only person from my entire class. The MUN club, at the time, was something I dreaded - it was full of older high-schoolers who were in the heat of a thrilling debate, while I was trying to understand the rules of procedure. They were making decisions as the Defence Minister of the US or Head of Intelligence of the USSR would during the Cold War, and all I knew was how to write my designation on a piece of paper and call it my 'placard'. I was clueless about everyone and everything around me, and I - the insufferable logomaniac - did everything I could to avoid the limelight. I tried my best to not be noticed in the committee. The first fear I had, was MUNning itself.

That changed during the last club session of the year. It was a crisis committee we had, back in January (or was it February?) 2019, a JCC between India and Pakistan. I was in the Pakistan bloc. I had to choose a portfolio for myself in the committee. I think that even the most primitive of living beings will have intelligence - or discerning faculties - enough to help them survive, and I was a similar case. I knew nothing. But of what I gathered, the Head of Media was a comparatively lighter portfolio. Hence, I picked that! That day, that very day, all the obscure hints my mind had picked up during the course of the year at the club, began to become more clear. Rules of procedure began to fall in place. The agenda made sense to me. It is on that day that I first spoke in the MUN club, during a moderated caucus. Yes, I spoke! That was how I stopped being scared out of my wits at the thought of MUN club. I had to speak to stop being afraid of speaking.

Just about that point of time, the intra-school year-end conference was around the corner. I figured that the club was not all frightening, anyway. So, I decided to give the MUN a shot. This was my first MUN ever - an Economic and Financial Affairs Council (ECOFIN), dealing with tax evasion, money laundering, black money, and other such tax crimes. I went for it, and I did an abysmal job (my score was literally this much ~ 3.5), but something about the committee lit a spark in my head. It was exciting to think that I could represent an entire country, that I could not only see the many facets of issues that the world faces, but also the infinite perspectives that the same problem could be seen with. Before I knew it, I developed a fondness for MUNning. Everything about committee - the flow of debate, the implementation of solutions (everything except the press session) - piqued my interest.

By the time I was back in school, MUNning had left such a major impact on me, that I looked forward to nothing more than club sessions. Tuesdays were positively the best days I ever had. MUN club was the only connection I had to MUNning as a middle-schooler. This made me wait for it like nothing else. 

All the while, however, crisis committees used to make me uneasy. I can't believe it now, but I used to avoid them at all costs then! Junior delegates are always told that crisis committees are extremely fast-paced, and that it's very hard to keep up with committee flow - the kind of image created by a wheel that's speeding ahead and crushing the slower ones beneath it! 

We then had a MUN at school in September last year. However, it was only a crisis committee that we had. I was already feeling edgy about it. That wasn't all - I ended up in the committee where I knew nobody! My friends who had registered were all in the other committee. This meant that I would have to plot against them!

That was my second fear - I was scared of crisis committees. That MUN really made me put in my fullest effort. To be seen for your worth, rather than your experience, commands a lot more hard work. The experience was at a whole new level, personally. In the course of that crisis, I discovered how gripping crisis committees are. A crisis committee is all about the moment in hand. Everything in it can be moulded by you. It's a freedom, a thrill that nothing else offers. Now, well, crisis committees are my first preferences. I had to attend that crisis to know that crisis committees are cool.

Then, well, we had six months without MUN club, because of the school annual day, vacations, and a number of other engagements. I prayed and prayed for the next FISMUN (8.0), and it was a wait which lasted forever. Finally, March of this year came by, and our final papers got over. But the current global pandemic struck the world, and that long-awaited MUN (read the full article about it here) got delayed by an undefined duration. Two months of research and a long wait seemed to go on forever. Then came an abrupt U-turn - the crisis committee I had registered for, had been dissolved due to low delegate attendance. (The agenda of that committee grips me to this day). I was now moved to a Disarmament and International Security Council (DISEC) as the Delegate of Yemen. I had about two days to do my research, and I was really petrified at the thought of entering the committee with a country like mine. Why? When I first googled the name of the country I previously couldn't point out in the map (and now had to represent), I read - 'Yemen is considered a failed state.' 

A very uplifting sentence when you are already palpitating with uncertainty, don't you think!

I was scared that I would not be well researched. If I wouldn't be well researched, it meant that I could make mistakes in committee. If I made mistakes in committee, it meant that I would have to face the press. But all this was only in the initial phase of the change. It dawned upon me that I would have to represent a failed state in the international community. You can always justify your own actions, but how will you justify the actions of a fallen government that left a country's economy in shackles and society in ruins? How would you defend such a government? That was what I was scared of - having to represent a terrible country like Yemen!

It was my mother who helped me through this. She told me, 'You can't change the past. Why don't you focus on the future?' This was my approach throughout the press session! A futuristic, optimistic (hypothetical?) perspective rather than the justification of the evident wrongs the government had already committed. That's probably what I replied to every press member! I somehow made it through. That MUN was probably the most enriching experience I've had. It taught me about resilience. It taught me that no matter how bad your country may be, YOU can still shine in committee. YOU are the maker of your own destiny. I had to become the delegate of Yemen to know that I could represent it. 

I've been to my latest MUN just the day before, and with this, I've attended my first ever inter-school MUN. The atmosphere was like an amalgamation of all my MUN experiences. Firstly, everything seemed new to me, but come now, that was the fun! I knew no person in the committee - not even the EB - but now, I feel like it really doesn't matter whom one knows and whom one doesn't in committee. I got a not-so-great country once again - Bolivia - but how good or bad your country is depends upon your mindset and in turn, your portrayal of the same. If you notice what I learnt from each of these three sentences,

You are the solution to every one of your problems, you are the perspective that defines your situation.

MUN is so much more than the pleasure my grey matter derives out of it. It's a journey to finding confidence from within oneself. Of course, I'm very much a novice who's just walked a few steps when there are miles to traverse, but looking back, it was definitely worth the start. I don't know what exactly made me want to be a MUNner forever after my first conference, or that club session - could it be the thrill of debate, the thirst to delve deeper, or something more than that? - but what I do know is that in tough moments, when I wanted to quit, it is that want which nudged me and told me that the desire to give up in adversity is fleeting and transient. Greater things lie beyond it. It is not at all the case that I have no qualms about MUNning now, it is just that I can recognise them better now, and try to combat them. 

MUNning gives one a sense of self-assurance and invincibility that nothing else does. At the end of the day, it really doesn't matter how or why you or I got into it. What matters is the purpose (that spark in my head) which drives one ahead. One needs to face your fears to defeat them - I had to speak in that club session, attend that crisis, become that delegate of Yemen - to stop being afraid of doing so. I probably have to lead committee some day to be sure that I can do that! 

I think that the only reason why MUNning got to me that day, is because I spoke on that day, and never before. Participation is the only way to enjoying MUNning - I'm so glad I decided to do that that day!

It goes without saying that the EB plays such a crucial role in a delegate's journey. It pretty much defines whether a delegate will attend another MUN or not. Thank goodness I've got the most supportive chairs and seniors I could ask for!

At the end of the day, something brought me to the club. I resisted participation as much as I could. But when I did participate, I didn't go back. I feared crises when I avoided them. When I had to attend one, they became my favourite committees. I was afraid of representing ruined countries, but when I ended up representing one, it made me feel insanely powerful. I was apprehensive of not having any familiar face around me, but when I didn't, I realised that I needed none. I am still stumbling on the path, but if there's one thing all these fears and my overcoming them has taught me, it is this - 

Being fearless doesn't mean that you have no fear, it means that you're strong enough to face them!

- Vaidehi