Looking in the mirror

I don’t like seeing my reflection…in the mirror, in photographs, on paper. I don’t like it because I don’t like what I see. And when I do like what I see I’m surprised, as if my expectations are so low that it’s not difficult to live up to them. 

Last night at school (Master’s program ) a person said something strange to me. She commented that she’s expecting my presentation to be so amazing that she should give up now. I’m surprised by these peoples’ perceptions of me. I don’t talk to some of them, we don’t talk to each other… different priorities, different reasons for being there, different agendas entirely. But I’m almost done so I don’t let it bother me too much.
Others are nice, we exchange laughs and occasionally talk but if it starts to get deep, they turn their backs on me, huddle in their corners and talk about commas and bindings, presentation times and other inconsequential things. Inconsequential to me at least.

For the most part they don’t know me so where did their perceptions of my work come from? How do they see me? (Even more importantly, how do my students see me?)
They don’t know that it wasn’t until the end of October that I started to feel like I belonged in a master’s program. That before each class I longed to drive away and have my life back. I long to belong but this journey, like many of my journeys was a solo undertaking  (acknowledging here the tremendous support from my daughter and my partner).

I told my students today how the best learning comes when something unexpected happens. It brought me back to my inquiry when I was expecting one thing and discovered
something totally different. I felt those feelings of being overwhelmed again as I spoke. So powerful. I could sense that the kids felt how powerful it had been as I spoke the words. And isn’t that what’s important after all? That I can now see through eyes that are clear? Wide awake, indeed…learning to trust my instincts…my voice.

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