Approval ratings that matter

Dear Mom,

I thought you might like to know, I’m teaching classes now. Adults, just like your students for the latter portion of your career. I’m giving the students tools and guidance to help them carve out their space in the world, just like you did for the newly landed doctors, engineers, dentists, lawyers, architects, and any other professional who need to pass the Test Of English as a Foreign Language. My course is about to end, but I wanted you to know that I get why you chose to be an adult education teacher. There is nothing more gratifying than students sharing their dreams and goals, opening up to you with trust and vulnerability.

I think you’d be proud of me mom. This might be the one thing I’ve done of which you’d have approved.

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If my mom was still alive, she might have been supportive of this endeavour. Because she’s not, I can concoct a fiction to fit my narrative: She’d be eager to share tips about teaching, and guide me to some helpful resources. We’d have an early dinner, where I could review my agenda with her and she could offer insight into questions that could spark conversation.

I know that alive mom would have found a way to worm self-doubt into my head with her back-handed compliments (e.g. “I guess it was your good fortune they couldn’t find someone who’d been through teacher’s college”). Her narcissism would be at full-tilt: why should she have to make dinner earlier to accommodate my eating before going to class (even though I’d been making my own dinner for a decade).

Turns out, I don’t need approval from mom, dead or alive.

Good thing I figured this out in my 40s.

The first email came in after the very first class. One of the participants wanted to let me know she appreciated the energy I brought into the room. After week two, I was told how welcome I made everyone feel. A couple days after the third class, two new emails came in: one telling me how I made her feel like a writer for the first time in her life, the second expressing how much the writing prompts were inspiring her.

After the latest class, week 6 of 8, one of the students thanked me for creating a such a caring environment where we all feel safe to share our writing.

But it’s me who should be sending out gushing emails. I’ve learned so much from this group. They put their faith in a stranger (expect for two who I know well), paid good money to be in the room, and show up to ask thoughtful questions. They have shared their writing, their stories, their fears, and their hurdles. They taught me that there is a writer lurking in all of us.

This was the first long-form class I designed and taught on my own. I’ve done hour-long workshops, been part of a panel, delivered webinars, and was one of many who took the stage in a half-day event. Coming up with content for a two-hour weekly class for two months has given me the opportunity to grow as a writer, while giving me space to stretch my wings as an instructor. The emails were all the validation I needed.

xo

Dana

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What I’m reading

Guess what? I’m reading another memoir. Once my memoir course was approved, I dove head first into reading more memoirs. Amy Bloom’s In Love, is like watching an intimate exchange without fear of being caught watching. Their pain as a couple leaps off the page and squeezes your heart. It’s a story of devotion, turmoil, illness, and having to make the hard choices of saying goodbye on your own terms.