Several years ago, I found my passion.Not that it was any bit a surprise to me - I always knew. From that single moment 40 years ago when I had center stage with a group of 8-years olds in Girl Scouts, until the day I stood in front of a group of 15 teaching them how to open a new account, I knew I wanted to teach.
My husband, who despises public speaking and gets physically ill when he is made to give a presentation, doesn't understand what goes on inside of me when I have the opportunity to share my knowledge with others in a classroom setting. Maybe you don't understand either, so let me see if I can shed some light for you.I prepare. I research material so that I'm not caught off guard giving any incorrect information. I prepare. I layout how my class will flow and write down exactly what I will say even if I don't say it word for word. I prepare. I insert activities to make sure everyone will be engaged. I prepare. I talk to myself, to the mirror, to an empty office, to any open space that will listen until I get the flow just right. And then, when it's time, I deliver. It's hard to explain the transformation that takes place in me when I'm standing in front of a group, their eyes all on me, grasping my every word. Introvert by nature, I covert into someone who wants the attention...who demands it. I make people feel comfortable participating, I engage them, I teach them. I walk away with such a "high" knowing that I made a difference. I made little light bulbs come on in their minds based on my words, my examples, and my style.
I get excited each time I'm asked to facilitate a class, and a week ago such a thing happened. Okay, well it would only be a 1-hour training session, but I would still be able to impart my knowledge on this group of people. The one thing that made me nervous is that my boss offered to co-facilitate. I can tell you right now, that she is a totally different person than I am. She is spontaneous, and sometimes talks in circles. I knew I had a challenge in front of me. Getting her to even sit down and talk about how the session would flow would be a challenge. So, I did my part. I prepared. I had a beautiful handout ready to go - I had spent a few days putting it together in order to get it just right - seeking her approval. Yesterday was judgement day. As we sat down, I wore a proud smile, knowing she would take one look and tell me that she never knew I had such a wonderful talent for this. Instead, she began writing all over it, tearing it apart, adding things here, crossing things out there, telling me that I shouldn't give them this handout that I worked so very hard on, but rather a copy of my PowerPoint with those silly lines off to the side for notes. WHAT? REALLY? I was deflated, but I took it in stride and decided that I could give in...just this once.
After our discussion, I started telling her of an idea I had for a required training class on campus. She just looked at me with a blank stare. I wasn't exactly sure how to read that body language, so I asked her straight up what she thought. Do you know what she said? "It won't work." WHAT? REALLY? If I had any air left in my balloon, it was quickly let out by the sharp stab of her three little words. I fought back the tears, told her I was disappointed, and our meeting was over. Just like that. In that hour, my self-esteem was crushed like crumbs for a pie crust.
She may have stomped on my fire, attempting to put it out, but little did she know that she left some ashes smoldering, and with time, I will rise from those ashes, hotter and stronger than ever. That passion will always burn in my heart. She will not kill my dream. I will not be deflated. I will endure and come out fighting to hold onto my heart!
I get excited each time I'm asked to facilitate a class, and a week ago such a thing happened. Okay, well it would only be a 1-hour training session, but I would still be able to impart my knowledge on this group of people. The one thing that made me nervous is that my boss offered to co-facilitate. I can tell you right now, that she is a totally different person than I am. She is spontaneous, and sometimes talks in circles. I knew I had a challenge in front of me. Getting her to even sit down and talk about how the session would flow would be a challenge. So, I did my part. I prepared. I had a beautiful handout ready to go - I had spent a few days putting it together in order to get it just right - seeking her approval. Yesterday was judgement day. As we sat down, I wore a proud smile, knowing she would take one look and tell me that she never knew I had such a wonderful talent for this. Instead, she began writing all over it, tearing it apart, adding things here, crossing things out there, telling me that I shouldn't give them this handout that I worked so very hard on, but rather a copy of my PowerPoint with those silly lines off to the side for notes. WHAT? REALLY? I was deflated, but I took it in stride and decided that I could give in...just this once.
After our discussion, I started telling her of an idea I had for a required training class on campus. She just looked at me with a blank stare. I wasn't exactly sure how to read that body language, so I asked her straight up what she thought. Do you know what she said? "It won't work." WHAT? REALLY? If I had any air left in my balloon, it was quickly let out by the sharp stab of her three little words. I fought back the tears, told her I was disappointed, and our meeting was over. Just like that. In that hour, my self-esteem was crushed like crumbs for a pie crust.
She may have stomped on my fire, attempting to put it out, but little did she know that she left some ashes smoldering, and with time, I will rise from those ashes, hotter and stronger than ever. That passion will always burn in my heart. She will not kill my dream. I will not be deflated. I will endure and come out fighting to hold onto my heart!
