I was never shy about being a bit grandiose. I was shy about a lot of other stuff, but soon I realized it wasn’t shyness — it was fear. After that realization, the shyness was doomed.
No one would ever say I was shy anyway. I was too busy as a kid recreating Bill Cosby monologues, or reading Bob and Ray scripts with my friends, or impersonating Maxwell Smart. Binding anxiety by being someone else. Guess I’m not unique.
So now I have an ideal job for such a legendary shrinking violet.
I’m a college professor. I get to be the sage on the sage, the grey-bearded wise old hound, the experienced pro laying learning on the young’uns.
Right.
The reality is that it’s more co-creation of meaning than transmission of it. (Thank you, Carl Botan.) I learned a heck of a lot from my students (ever-patient and understanding, seriously) and I think last semester — my first at this excellent institution — went really well.
So I’m jazzed about the semester to come, which starts at the end of the month. Plenty of time to refresh my Bob and Ray routines.
