You’ll be fine.
Usually, I am saying this to my kids. Today, I am saying it to myself.
You’ll be fine, Sy. You write and talk about this stuff all the time. It’s not your first rodeo. Just get up there and do your best.
I will. I do. It’s not. I will.
But, if I’m honest, I am a bit anxious this morning as I think ahead to my guest opportunity on Spokane Talks this afternoon with ED 101 host, Erik Wolfrum.
We are doing a segment on “humanizing education,” and I am eager to share my work around classroom culture. And while I feel like I have much to share, I am a little worried about where to start, go, and end. We only have 24 minutes. It’s an open format, with no advance questions. It’s live. And it’s at home.
What if I say too much?
What if I don’t say enough?
What if I forget to say that?
What if I say something I shouldn’t?
What if I mess up?
I dreamt last night that I lost all my followers on Twitter, and I was desperate to find out why, but no one would talk to me. They just kept disappearing. I hope it was not a harbinger of bad things to come this afternoon. I hope people don’t disappear. I hope I don’t disappear.
You’ll be fine.
I will. But I’ve always been a “Nervous Nellie.” And no matter how many times I do something; no matter how many times I tell myself, “I’ll be fine,” my worry warts raise their ugly heads, and I worry.
I am nervous. I tell my kids that’s a good thing. It means we care. And I do care. Maybe too much. I don’t get up at the crack of dawn every morning to make sense of and share my journey because I have nothing better to do. I believe in this stuff. I live this stuff. It drives me. It consumes me. It’s become me.
And so, as I think ahead–real or imagined–I feel a great amount of pressure to make it count. I want to better education. I want to better the world. I want us to create greater spaces of connection for kids, so they may not only live their best lives now but also live their best lives later. And not simply because we prepared them for what is, but rather because we empowered them to create what yet may be: a world connected, a world they create because they expect more and believe they can do more. That is what I want.
I will share this post with my kids today. I want them to know I get nervous, too. But, more importantly, I want to continue sharing more of what I expect and want from and for them: a better world.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will experience…
…connecting through Smiles and Frowns.
…playing the preparation game (parallel structure).
…sharing my nerves.
…creating “I am from” poems for Project Identity.
…reflecting in our Journey Journals.
…hearing a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Wednesday, all. Thank you for letting me write through my anxiety this morning. It helped.
Do. Reflect. Do Better.
Yes, being nervous means you really care about your message. I do, too. Go fo it! I’m rooting for you.
Thank you, Diane. Looks like I will have to be nervous again. They had to reschedule. Thank you for your kind support.