Your Experiences are Not My Experiences. Your Story Is Your Own.

Have you ever been telling a friend or family member about something in your life and part way through the description, the entire conversation is suddenly about them? You could be describing your trip to Disney World and that person interrupts and starts telling you exactly when they went to Disney World and what rides they went on and what places they hate and what they thought of it, etc. They weren't listening to your experiences at all, but instead using your provided topic to think about themselves.

We aren't listening.

When you hear a story of trauma, your reaction shouldn't be, "Well _____ happened to me and..." No. Stop. This isn't your story. This is theirs. Listen to how they feel. Because no matter what you've been through in your life, it isn't what they've been through. We have different amounts of privilege, different fears, different families, different abilities, different identity-building experiences, different coping mechanisms, etc. An overheard comment made in a grocery store could change your entire outlook on the world or perception of yourself, so even members of the same family or community are not going to think exactly alike.

When a child at school is in distress, a comment by a teacher of "when I was your age" is automatically discounting the current, very real feelings of that kid. In that moment, it doesn't matter what the adult did when they were in school. This is the student's experience. Let them tell their story. Then, ask how you can help. When one parent hears another parent expressing concerns about their child, explaining what they did with their own son or daughter often just makes the new parent feel bad or judged. They are raising completely different human being in a entirely different environment and culture. Listen closely to their story. Then, give advice if it is needed.

Whether is has to do with the pandemic, politics, or injustices in the world, people are doling out judgments, creating barriers of "us vs. them", and using topics of grave importance to bolster their own reputations or social media profiles. Freedom of speech is an important thing and everyone is entitled to their own opinions, but opinions about other people's experiences just don't matter. Own your own story, but listen to others' too. Spilling out your own story without filling yourself up with others isn't very nourishing. Every story counts.

Everything Worth Doing Takes Time

In May of last year, I was planning my new start in Arizona. Obviously, I would be starting a new job and adjusting to new surroundings, but I also felt like it was a good opportunity to start some new habits. I wanted to start taking care of my skin. I wanted to start a regular workout routine. I bought Rosetta Stone and committed myself to really learning Spanish. I sucked at the first goal. Never woke up early enough to do absolutely anything for my skin. I tried hard at the 2nd by joining a gym and trying lots of classes and workout apps. Fatigue and lack of results eventually made it difficult to be consistent. For the third, I stayed committed and never went more than 2 days without practicing Spanish and completed the entire program last week. This isn't a story of success, but it isn't one of failure either. I learned a lot about time this year.

Everything...and I mean everything, if done well, takes time. I'm good at my job because I spend so much time working to make myself better. I am assessing myself and trying new things outside of work hours because it is important to me. It isn't "just a job" that I put in the minimum amount to make a living. This kind of dedication applies to everything. If fitness is going to be taken seriously, you can't just put in 20 minutes at the gym a few times a week. You have to go back every day. You have to keep pushing yourself. 

If you watch celebrity accounts on Instagram, you quickly realize that that hair and skin you envy takes a lot of time. They go to dermatologists and salons every week. They do laser treatments and wear countless serums and masks. In a recent post by singer Kelsea Ballerini, she said that it takes her over an hour every single night to do her "nightly routine."

These things don't end either. I can't just eat healthy for 6 months and be done. A house cleaned meticulously for a month won't maintain that level of clean. Even with the one goal I maintained, learning Spanish, I may have finished the program, but I am no way done. I will still have to keep practicing more and more and more to become fluent. 

Here's the really important part of this post: We don't have time for everything. As much as our society tries to make us believe we can and should be organized, financially responsible, a good parent, healthy, clean, fit, beautiful, a good spouse, smart, etc., it's just unreasonable to think one person can have enough hours in the day to commit to each of these things. I'm not saying to give up. I'm just learning to prioritize. What really matters to me? What things will I be glad I spent my hours dedicated to 20 years from now? That's different for everyone, and honestly, outside of work, I am struggling to decide what that is for me. If you do something for an hour every day for 20 years, that means you will spend over 300 days of your life doing that. That's a substantial amount. So, what is worth your time? 

The Art of Staying Calm

A few years ago, a distressed student threw a laptop at me. I moved out of the way, walked over and picked it up, and checked to see if it was working without much reaction at all. After 5 years of teaching middle school, I have found that my gut reaction to absolutely any event is a poker face. It doesn't matter if there's a physical fight, a messy break-up, a temper tantrum, an incident involving blood or vomit, or a school wide lockdown. I immediately stop and think "it's not that big of a deal."

I started attempting the technique to avoid showing weakness in a classroom where I obviously didn't have control. I continued practicing it even after I had good classroom management because I felt that I was able to bring a sense of calm to the classroom, a very important thing for the turbulent lives of adolescents. This doesn't mean I didn't break down when I separated myself from the incident. During my first year of teaching, I cried in the car on the way home from work at least once a week.  I still remember asking another teacher to watch my classroom for a few minutes while I broke down in a bathroom. But the more I have practiced the "Stop. Don't react." approach over and over and over, the more it has served to minimize stress in so many aspects of my life.

I bring this up because I think friends and family think I'm either 1. Not taking important issues seriously or 2. not very sympathetic. I hope you all know that I care very much. My "nonchalant" attitude toward the coronavirus pandemic isn't because I don't care about people. It's because, like a crisis in my classroom, my best way to cope was to tell myself repeatedly that it isn't a big deal and exude calm at all times. And when my best friend or family member is crying and telling me about their current crisis, whether it's in a fight in a relationship, a career frustration, or they just ruined their favorite jeans, it makes me very upset. If I am not showing that in my expressions or voice, it is only because I have gone into crisis mode. I am telling myself it's a solvable problem and am thinking about the next step to fix/alleviate that problem.

This is not a blog to give advice. I just want everyone reading this to know that I care. I may not know the right thing to say. I probably don't have a solution. I might not show my sympathy very well. If you need me though, please reach out. I can be calm. I can listen.