Tag Archives: life

That’s NOT Who You Are!

One honor I’m awarded annually is to serve as a judge in the Maine 4-H State Public Speaking Contest. Several years ago, I was wandering the hall during a break when I noticed a future presenter standing with her dad. Since it’s a friendly group, I greeted her and asked how she was. Her reply included, “I’m very nervous.”

I said, “No, you’re not.”

She countered, “Oh yes, I am. I’m REALLY nervous.”

I asked her name and then stated, “You are not nervous. You are Lisa. You are feeling nervous.” I’d distracted her, so she appeared less nervous and more curious. We had a brief conversation about the difference between who we are and what we are feeling and experiencing. I asked her if she had ever been sick. She confessed she had. “Well, again, you weren’t sick. You were Lisa. Lisa was feeling sick.” We practiced some other examples. “I’m Lisa. I’m feeling sad.”

She and her dad (who was really enjoying the conversation) caught the subtle difference in language. I closed it by summarizing, “So you are feeling nervous. When you give your presentation, remember that you are Lisa. You have worked hard and are prepared. Be Lisa who is prepared. It is okay to feel nervous but don’t let it interfere with who you really are. Feelings are energy. Be you and make that energy work for you.”

Unfortunately, I did not get to see her present—the luck of the draw, I suppose. One great thing about this contest is that judges are encouraged to give “feedback” to participants, so I didn’t break any rules even if I had judged her presentation. (Notice I would have judged her presentation. I would not have judged her.)

This year, I got to witness another example with a participant I was judging. She was better than good. Her presentation was actually about presenting—a creative touch. At the end, she started crying. She, of course, apologized and explained how much learning meant to her and how fortunate she was to have supporters and mentors.

In my judge’s feedback, I complimented her passion and admitted I nearly cried with her—that says much about the quality of her presentation. Her tears were not who she was, but they were a concrete and visible demonstration of how she felt.

This is not just about public speaking. It’s about communication. I recently had a heated discussion with a life-long friend. Fortunately, we were able to pause long enough to remember who we were and acknowledge how we were feeling. Then we were able to move past the anger back to who we were.

I offer you the same challenge I offered these two young adults. Remember who you are. Don’t forget that what you may be feeling isn’t who you are. And, as a bit of a bonus, when you “get” that, you realize that you need not be the victim of your emotions.

You might also create a bit of a game out of it. When you first see someone and ask them how they are, listen to the answer. They will tell you how they feel. “I’m really… tired, frustrated, happy…” You can reply, “I didn’t ask who you are. I know you are (name). But I understand you are feeling… tired, frustrated, happy…” (Be gentle, be nice, keep a smile on your face and in your voice.)

Be prepared for some interesting conversation about the difference between communicating who we are and how we feel.

I needed this. I’ll bet you do too.

Just a little backstory. I was recently invited to join a leadership webinar featuring Shawn Achor. The name clicked. I first “met” Shawn nine years ago when I watched a TED Talk he gave. I just watched it again.

What a great twelve minutes it was. I smiled. I laughed out loud. I’ll bet you’d like to do that too. There’s a lot to think about here. You may decide to watch it more than once. It could change your day. It could change your life.

Was the Big Bad Wolf Bad?

Sometimes I do suspect the planets align or karma does, in fact, exist. A recent conversation with an old high school chum ended with her announcing she was going to take her dog for an evening walk He is a bit territorial and was anxious to see if Mr. Fox was trespassing. She thought it might not end well.

This triggered a memory that was quickly followed by a seemingly unrelated quote posted on social media.

The memory was of a fun day substitute teaching “language arts” in a sixth-grade class. The assignment was to group read a book together and discuss it. Unfortunately, I don’t remember the title of the book. I’ve since found several versions based on the three little pigs, but this one was written about the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. It forced us to re-consider the tale from the wolf’s point of view. He narrated the story from his perspective with a plea for understanding.

We had a very intense and engaged discussion after finishing the book. The kids explored the wolf’s perspective with many admitting there were some things they hadn’t considered before. There were some friendly arguments, a few “hadn’t thought about that,” and 100% participation. (The objective of the activity was to encourage creative thinking and explore alternative viewpoints.)

After discussion, I decided to take a class vote. The question was, “How many of you now feel somewhat sorry for the wolf?” I don’t remember how many kids there were… probably around twenty. But I do remember the results of the vote.

One brave boy raised his hand indicating he thought differently about the wolf after reading the story and discussing it. The rest looked at him with what can best be described as incredulity and disbelief. Before concluding the activity was a failure, let me quickly add that no one attacked him or called him stupid. They understood he simply had a different viewpoint or perspective. They didn’t try to bully him into changing his mind. Another successful lesson.

But why did only one person change his perspective? I think the answer to that lies in this quote.

“The reason so many people misunderstand so many issues is not that these issues are so complex, but that people do not want a factual or analytical explanation that leaves them emotionally unsatisfied. They want villains to hate and heroes to cheer—and they don’t want explanations that fail to give them that.”

Thomas Soweit

Most of those kids simply did not want to give up the villain they had known since that story was read to them when they were little–he IS the big BAD wolf–that’s my story and I’m sticking to it! And I guess that’s okay because at least they had figured out that their classmate who thought differently wasn’t stupid. Some actually admitted they could see things differently but they just couldn’t change their opinion.

If the kids can get it, why do we adults have so much trouble?


How do you color a Rainbow?

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to claim I have a new friend. Considering how we met I am still surprised at how much I learned from her. Our friendship started while a number of us were waiting for a table at Geaghan’s Restaurant in Bangor. She happened to sit across from me. I noticed she was writing and drawing in a notebook. It started with some accidental eye contact and elevated to smiles and winks. Nearly everyone else was fumbling with their smartphones. She was creating.

When I was called to my table I waved goodbye. A few minutes after being seated, we were both surprised that she and her family were brought in and seated very close by. But the biggest surprise came a few minutes later. My friend and her Mom came over to my table. She slipped a piece of paper in front of me. Mom apologized for the fact they didn’t have colors to make the rainbow. In third grade lettering, it said at the top, “Enjoy your dinner.”

My enthusiastic thanks were not at all exaggerated. I was truly impressed and appreciative. We chatted long enough for me to learn that she’s in third grade and her favorite subject is science. Although, based on her hesitancy in answering, I suspect the answer might be different on a different day. One more thing to love about third graders is that they don’t get locked into beliefs and biases.

For those who believe in karma or planets aligning, it’s interesting that I have had several accidental encounters with kids lately that have left me happy and encouraged. I stared at my drawing for a long time.

Did my new friend know that I love rainbows because they represent hope? I didn’t get a chance to tell her so I’m hoping she does or maybe finds out somehow. Stranger things have happened.

I didn’t have a notebook, but I did have a business card. So I wrote her a similar message on the back, encouraging her to not only enjoy dinner but to save some room for dessert. I drew a small cat, writing “cat” underneath the drawing in case it wasn’t recognizable. I’ve had kids tell me I do draw a good cat. In a way similar to her presentation, I took it over and slipped it in front of her, evoking a big grin. Her Mom and Dad both thanked me. I’m not sure why, but in a world rife with suspicion they weren’t finding our new friendship creepy!

I kept her drawing in front of me during dinner. The more I looked at it, the more color I saw–not in the drawing itself but in my friend’s dancing eyes and smile. She gave me more than a drawing. She reminded me that there is hope. Kids know how to connect and they know it’s important to do so. It’s natural for them. They also know that sometimes you have to look a little farther and deeper to see the color. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that sometimes you have to make the color. She colored my rainbow with her smile and her dancing eyes and the obvious pleasure it gave her to do something nice for someone. That’s how you color a rainbow.

When she left, I held up her drawing and said that I was going to put it on my fridge when I got home. That seemed to please her. I hope she realizes how much it pleases me–not just the drawing, but her act of unselfish creation for a stranger. It’s such a simple life lesson. Making others happy brings us happiness. Offering others hope in any form brings us hope. If a nine-year-old can create hope and happiness, cannot we who are older do the same?

If we listen and watch, they’ll teach us how to color a rainbow–even if you don’t have crayons.