My Facebook status this morning read: “facing down an insane week and punching insecurities in the face.”
I shouldn’t really feel insecure about anything in the summer. I’m more relaxed, I’m well-rested, I work out more, I create more (writing, piano, singing). Yet this morning as I weeded my parents’ garden, I felt them creep up and wind around me, like the weeds that were choking the pepper plants.
“You only ran twice last week–and didn’t even run very far. Relay for Life on Saturday is gonna kill you.”
“You can’t even weed right–was that a tomato plant you just pulled up?”
“You haven’t accomplished a fraction of what you wanted to this month.”
“Newspaper is going to be a train wreck next year.”
“Why are you even going to California tomorrow? It’s not like anyone will listen to you anyway.”
It is the last insecurity that I’m most concerned about. I’m not a power player. I don’t politic in my job. I try to be unassuming, humble, and just teach. Yet I was asked to accompany a group of district administrators to Apple headquarters in Cupertino, California. From what I understand, it’s not about implementing Apple products in our district (though perhaps that is in the long-term future), it’s about how to raise achievement. But why me? I really don’t know why I am going, other than I was asked.
So at 10 AM tomorrow, I will board a flight with 10 relative strangers, all of whom outrank me, and spend two days with Apple personnel learning how we can improve our district. As an educator, I really am thrilled with the prospect. As “little ol’ me,” I’m terrified.
So before I go, I will help a friend with her thesis. I will work on one school-related project for an hour. I will go for a run. This is what I call “punching insecurities in the face.” Rather than letting them strangle me into inaction, I will do something, and hope those insecurities fall away.