Saturday, January 22, 2011

Intimidating? I hope not.

This post was inspired, in part, by the delightful "midwives chatting" posts over here and the Facebook Q&A's that Barb has been posting over here. It was also inspired by this post by MB that has crossed my mind repeatedly since I read it last July. I was struck by her honesty and my realization that a lot of people grow up poor and many of us carry it around like a dirty secret.

When I was an undergraduate, I was terribly intimidated by my professors. These were people who had their shit together. They were smart. They were funny. They had P. H. D.'s!!!! They knew stuff. They were way more cool than I would ever be.

I grew up poor. I remember when my parents crossed the poverty line. I was 9 or 10 years old. I remember how excited we all were when my parents had saved enough money to buy a trailer that was large enough that my brother and I would each have our own room (which I now realize is TRULY a luxury that some children will never experience). I was the first in my family to get any kind of college degree. On either side. Not only were we poor, but we were completely dysfunctional and my home life was an emotional trainwreck. I still get nervous when I have people over because I feel like I have something to hide. They will find something out about me. They will see that I am not perfect. Please, if you are my friend and you have never been to my house, you should know that I love you, but that I am just scared to have you over.

For years, I was terrified when I ate in fancy restaurants--terrified that someone would know that I was an impostor. Terrified that people were secretly laughing at me.

This feeling of being an impostor followed me into graduate school. I was terrified that at any moment, someone would realize that she doesn't belong here. Over time, I realized that this is a very common feeling. Some of the people I respect very much have said that the hardest part of your first job is getting over the "impostor syndrome." I lucked out and found a job in a department where I'm comfortable with my colleagues and enjoy their company, so this feeling hasn't plagued me like it did in graduate school.

As a side note, I didn't feel comfortable in fancy restaurants until I got a Master's degree. I guess that having a fancy title somehow makes up for growing up poor. So what if I use the wrong fork? I have the money to pay for my meal, I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE good food, and I tip well.

Many of my students come from rural areas. Beyond rural areas. Towns of less than 200 people where the closest hospital is far, far away. Grand Forks is a HUGE city to them. I'm sure that some of them grew up poor. I'm sure that some of them grew up strangled by dysfunction and violence. I hope they are not afraid of me. I want them to respect me, but I want them to know that I'm just a person too (even though I do want them to use my title when addressing me--not because I'm "better" than they are, but because I earned it...AND I allow them, even encourage them, to call me "Dr. T." because it is less intimidating and sounds more fun).

I get frustrated by genuine laziness or a lack of initiative in some students, but I otherwise enjoy talking with them and I like to know who they are outside of my class. I realize in retrospect that many of my professors were totally approachable and they probably would have loved it if I had stopped in and said hi during their office hours.

This recent string of conversations from Facebook is a nice illustration of the fact that (most) academics are not scary. At least, not the ones I affiliate with. In fact, in my experience, the truly scary ones are just assholes. Most of us are kind of funny. We don't bite. And apparently, we have a deep appreciation for the therapeutic effects of alcohol:
Me (assistant professor, psychology): Still gets nervous on the first day of class.
(I know someone who has been lecturing in VERY large classes--400+ students--for almost a decade now. He is a born performer and a pleasure to watch and listen to. He is funny, charming, and ridiculously attractive. Last semester, he posted a FB update that HE still gets first-day jitters. I find this oddly comforting.)

JL (assistant professor, sociology): Me too.

AC (associate professor, psychology): I would too if I didn't drink so much before the first class. 
(I am 97% sure this person is kidding, but is also a very real possibility that he is serious. Also, I took courses from this person in graduate school and consider him to be one of my mentors.)

Me: @AC, I DID drink a lot. Unfortunately it was coffee.
RR (assistant professor, law school): yep.

KSA (retired journalist, married to assistant professor of journalism): That's because y'all are GOOD.
(Does being nervous mean that your are more likely to be awesome? Maybe so, because it means that you actually care.)
MB (currently dissertating and also an instructor in English dept.): Make sure your zipper is up (my personal super-fear)!
AC: Drink gin dumbass.
(This is an good example of his fine mentoring skills, right here.)

Me: @MB ~ that totally happened to me last year. I realized my fly was wide open midway through class, and I was wearing a rather short shirt. I check it obsessively now.
@AC ~ Vodka. It has no scent. Duh.
(The zipper thing totally happened, and I couldn't figure out why a couple of the students were stifling laughter. I'd been lecturing for 20+ minutes. I had white granny-panties on. Thank God there were no holes in them. Also, I have never drank vodka before lecturing in a class. However, I may have utilized it in other settings. Maybe.)
SC (doctoral candidate, quantitative psychology): It says a lot about you that I both think you are a professional and mature educator and researcher AND *totally* believe you about which booze to drink and conceal it.
(Strangely, this is one of my favorite compliments I have ever received. It means that I, too, am capable of some fine mentoring.)
 

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