So, today was Fall Convocation at the University of Manitoba. Occupational Therapy students graduate in Fall Convocation because of the way the U of M program is run…so today was the graduation luncheon for the students.
I got a call several days ago asking if I would present the Communications Award at the luncheon. Makes sense, I suppose, for the person who teaches communication to present it.
I presented last year, and have on other years…and did not like to do so.
Cuz last year my heart pounded, my head swirled, I worried I wouldn’t be able to climb the steps without tripping, I worried I’d need to use the restroom right when it was my turn to present. I got ridiculously worked up about it…it was cuh-RAHZ-ee!
I’m not saying it was rational…but I am saying how real it felt.
So…I wasn’t looking forward to it this year, because I was a little..make that a lot.. anxious that I would get as anxious as I got for last year’s award. There are some of you scratching your head at this last sentence, but many of you will “get” how being anxious about the anxiety can make anticipating an anxiety producing event quite dreadful.
This is wierd, cuz, like I said, I teach communication…and here I was, dreading being in front of this crowd for a less than a minute…so, as a matter of will, I said I would present as part of my brave commitment to dare greatly…
I’ve been reading Daring Greatly…which has in its intro:
“Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It means cultivating eh courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. It’s going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and sometimes afraid, but that’ doesn’t change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging.” (page 10)
So, as a matter of will…bravely choosing not to withdraw, but to vulnerably do something that I am capable of doing, even though I don’t feel like I am.
I actually do a fair bit of public speaking…I was MC at a banquet for a couple of hundred people a few weeks ago and was less intimidated by that anticipating spending a few moments speaking to this crowd.
And I realized that what the challenge was, was that not only was I presenting the award in front of the graduands, their parents and significant others…I was also presenting in front of the faculty, and various bigwigs at the university.
In other words, smart people. Really. Smart. People.
And that’s when I feel small…and out of place. And it feels sorta like when I was a kid and they let me play in their sandbox even though I wasn’t really old enough–I know I’m outclassed and outsmarted. I teach at the university, but only about a quarter-time…I don’t carry a research load…and frankly have no desire to. I love doing therapy, and don’t want anything else to crowd out work with clients. So, I was thinking they should ask someone who is smart to give this award…in other words, ask someone other than me.
So…I’m not an academic…and somewhere, in some corner of my brain, whether it makes sense or not, something tells me that I’m just not that smart (you may have recently read that I pulled out my last sheet of my last paper of my undergrad degree knowing I would never write another paper again), and have no business at the podium at a university graduation.
(Note: I feel this way, despite that fact that “they” (you know, those smart faculty-type people) haven’t actually said or done anything to make me feel this way)
I recognize this as shame…Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing we are flawed and therefore unworthy of acceptance and belonging,
and like Brene Brown says:
- Shame is universal
- No one wants to talk about it
- The more you ignore shame, the more power you turn over to it
I work with folks on shame issues all the time…and as part of “walking the walk”…I chose to say, “yes” to presenting. I wasn’t going to give it power…and if I invite others to vulnerability, I will bravely choose to live it.
So…I presented today.
One of my colleagues complimented me on my suit jacket…and I bravely joked about how I wore it because I was presenting an award at a university gathering, and because I wasn’t feeling like I fit in with all the smart people, I would at least look the part by wearing the suit. We laughed…and she was supportive and encouraging…and I wasn’t joking. I really was dealing with my anxiety with the suit jacket as a coping strategy.
Last year, I got up there, read the award and handed it over…didn’t trust myself to do anymore.
This year, I debated, and rehearsed what I was going to say in my head (same thing I rehearsed last year, and chickened out on)…I was calmer than last year…but as the moment drew near, I could feel my heart pounding fast. I remembered the pleasant conversation at the table (sitting with the Assistant Dean of Medicine, the Head of the School, the Head of the Department, the Representative from Financial Aid and Awards) and watched how they had gone from chatting it up about pork ribs, and lamb ribs, and recipes, and grown kids inviting parents over for dinner and asking them to bring the food–from all the normal and ordinary and delightful chatter of a lunch meal–to calmly and professionally fulfilling their duties at the podium.
So at the appointed time, I rose from my chair and went up to the podium (and realized later didn’t actually worry about tripping). I said:
The Occupational Therapy student graduands are familiar with me saying this: The single most significant predictor of the effectiveness of the therapeutic outcome is the quality of the therapeutic alliance, as determined by the client. Communication is a huge piece of establishing that alliance, and so it is fitting to have an award to celebrate a student who has performed well in the area of communication and so I would like to present this award to…
I know I stumbled once on a phrase…but I’m guessing I noticed it more than those listening. My office mate, who knew I was nervous, told me later I did well. It was meaningful to receive the support of my colleagues…who could support me because they know that I struggle to find my place amongst brilliant researchers and leaders of our profession.
After work, I stopped for a manicure at a nail salon I had never been to. The owner of the shop, as she did my nails, was chatting with me in her thick Korean accent…and asked me if I had been at work today. I told her I had…that it was university graduation today and I had been at the luncheon. She said, “You are professor?”, incredulously. I nodded, and her beautiful big eyes got bigger and she said, “You are professor!!” in a clearly admiring tone. I clarified that I had another job, that I only taught part time, and she repeated, “You are professor!” in a voice that was clearly reserved for only the very respected.
A few minutes later, the receptionist came into the room for a moment…her daughter. And the manicurist said to her…”She is professor!“.
Later, as I was leaving, and her husband came into the shop at the end of the day, she said to me…”This my husband” and to him, “This my client…and she professor at the University of Manitoba!”
It was a beautiful/hilarious/slightly embarrassing but divinely affirming experience at the end of this day when I faced my shame by daring greatly to step into and embrace the life…the opportunities, the experiences, the challenges and the riches that life has offered me.
It was like God winking at me, and nudging me with His elbow with a nod.. and us being able to have a good giggle together after this cool experience of conquering my fear.
Write a Comment