Do you think you are better than everyone else- a reflection

A couple of years ago I wrote a post entitled 'Do you think you are better than everyone else' where I recounted a story from my childhood that does haunt me even now (over 30 years later)... it was a tiny moment really but the words cut deep and created a loop that pops up from time to time. At the moment I am participating (a little!) in a blog challenge with giftEDnz and I am also in the midst of school holidays so a LOT of personal reflection is going on. I have also started reading Brene Brown's book 'Rising Strong' as resilience is a topic I am interested in and I love her work, it has got me thinking about vulnerability again and facing my own demons. I am not gifted but I think that the moment I had as a child could be one some of our gifted and talented tamariki experience, the words (and the venom they are delivered with) might be different but the damage done could be similar.

This is the moment (click on the link above for more): 

'I was one of those kids that loved learning, heck I still do, and I was always looking to stretch myself, again I still do. One day when I must've been about 11 years old, I had completed some work earlier than my classmates, I had checked it and then waited in line to ask my teacher if I could please have some more work. The response from my teacher was less than supportive, in fact the response was a loud (enough to silence the rest of my classmates) "so you think you are better than everyone else?" I was horrified. That was not what I meant at all, I just wanted some more work to keep myself busy and tried to explain that in a quiet voice but to no avail. I didn't get any more work, all I got was humiliated and shamed. '

I never thought of myself as a particularly precocious child, but maybe I was, who knows? What I do know is that this experience made me nervous to stand up, to speak up, to be vulnerable. I vividly remember sitting at my desk having completed my work and looking around the classroom seeing everyone else still working away (or goofing off because we were a class of real human beings with different needs, skills and interests... however they were doing so in an unobtrusive manner to avoid being caught), I weighed up the option of staying there quietly and doing nothing but it was going to be a long time which would be really boring and I thought perhaps my teacher would be proud of me showing an interest and desire to do more (people pleasing is something I mastered early on... a work in progress too) so I took a deep breath and walked to his desk. I'll never forget the look of disdain as he spoke to me... or perhaps disdain is what I perceived rather than what was really there, never-the-less the look, the words, the silence... it stung. 

Fast forward now to last week, and I am presenting a workshop at a conference. As always there was the flutter... what right do I have being here talking to people about stuff? What makes me think I am good enough to do this? Now, I have a process to tamper that down and walk into the vulnerability, face the fear and do it anyway kind of approach. The workshop went well, I think, and at the end one of the teachers there asked if she could come and observe in my classroom... instant anxiety flare... and I fumbled my way through saying yes of course but please know it is a work in progress and I am on  a journey and certainly haven't got it all sorted etc etc etc. I created the excuses immediately because perhaps one of my biggest fears is being exposed as the fraud I am sure I am. After all, what actually makes me think that I have anything to offer? Cue the refrain: What makes me think I am better than anyone else? 

Now I know that this is mind talk and that I have the skills to manage that but the seeds planted in our early years can grow strong roots. In those times when our vulnerability is exposed that is perhaps when those seeds that have grown over the years blossom in their healing or hurting way depending on what seeds are planted and then nurtured. 

And so, my challenge for myself is to be present and aware of the seeds I am planting and those I am nurturing in the minds and hearts of the young people I am privileged to work with. To prune what I can of the harmful ones and provide light, warmth and nutrients to the ones that will help my tamariki flourish in all the ways they can.