Letter #89 - Sheila

This is not my first letter to one of my classmates from my Masters program.  I love my Masters program, and our Tribe is a very close-knit group who continues to dedicate itself to supporting each others' learning journeys.  This past weekend was a school weekend for me, and I shared a particularly awesome experience Sheila.  The experience was so awesome I felt the need to write her a letter commending her for it and thanking her for her support.

Some people just don't like speaking in large groups.  They have dozens of reasons for why, it could be stage fright, it could be an issue of prep time, it could be they have a sore throat and don't want to speak up... Sheila is usually one of these people.  I have worked with her in past classes on presentations, and witnessed first hand how badly she stresses, how much time she takes writing out word-for-word what she is going to present, and how she speedily reads through it in front of the class at a volume barely above a whisper.  This weekend, I made Sheila my mission.

I don't typically have a problem speaking in front of large groups of people.  I get nervous like anyone else, and I have times when it's the last thing I want to do, but in general, I'm pretty comfortable in front of a crowd once I get going.  My educational and professional backgrounds have both enhanced this in me.  When our class is assigned group presentations, I'm the one who takes the "let's talk out the basic points and just wing it" approach.  This weekend I was assigned to Sheila's group, and I decided she needed a confidence boost.

As our group prepared for our presentation, Sheila kept stressing various facts from the reading she was focused on.  I could see her getting more and more worked up, so I finally sat down immediately across from her and told her she needed to chill.  She looked a little taken aback, which was part of my objective.  I explained to her the strength of her perspective as I saw it, and tried to minimise the importance of the presentation and the grade.  I also helped her craft her message so she was focused more on the story than on the facts and numbers.  She seemed to settle down a little and seemed a tad more confident, though still pretty nervous.  Luck would have it our group was to present last, so Sheila sat nervously through 3 other presentations and feedback sessions, waiting for her turn to speak.  Then, she NAILED it.  She was calm, spoke at a reasonable volume, didn't read her script, and she told the story.  She still stumbled over a few of the facts she wanted to include, but she didn't freak out and lose focus when she stumbled.  It was awesome.

When our group finished and the professors were giving feedback and the class was asking questions, one of our tribe members raised her hand and said "not that you didn't all do well, but I just really want to commend Sheila for the amazing job she did... what a huge improvement from the first time we ever heard her share in class!"  Sheila was beaming.  I was so excited for her.

My letter was pretty simple.  I told her how awesome it was for me to watch her grow in skill and confidence, and reminded her of the important role she plays in our tribe.

Letter #70 - Joan

As a general rule, I am not very good with "old" people.  By this I mean anyone who has white or grey hair but has also lost any or all of their mental capacity.  I don't say this to be mean, I don't feel they are any less important, I'm just not always good at communicating with them, which is odd because I'm great with kids and there are often parallels in the communication style needed.  I guess it's partially just that - I'm always worried they'll think I'm talking down to them, or that I'm being disrespectful.  I have a hard time separating their age & life experiences from the mental state they may be in.  My brother, on the other hand, is amazing with this group.  He's like a god in nursing homes... it's incredible to watch.

My husband and I have a neighbour who is teetering into this category.  She's still pretty sharp mentally, but she I get the feeling she is excruciatingly lonely.  She also isn't afraid to ask for help... a lot.  While this is a good thing, it can also be frustrating for me because sometimes her requests cut into my plans and I don't feel any emotional obligation to her.  *That* may sound bad, but I'm being brave and going with honesty.  I'm not proud of these feelings, but they are there.  This week Joan called me late one evening while I was in the middle of working on a research paper.  I almost didn't answer, but decided at the last second that if she was calling this late it may be an emergency and I knew I would feel awful if I found out the next day she had needed to get to the hospital or something worse and I didn't pick up the phone.  She was fine, she just wanted to know if we could take her trash out.  That didn't bother me, it was the 30 minute conversation that ensued about why the complex changed the dumpsters again and didn't they think about the fact that people like her can't haul their trash up over their heads to dump it in, and her plan for talking to them about just that... in great detail.

Remember the part where I was in the middle of writing a paper?  I don't have it in me to be rude, so I stayed on the phone until she was ready to hang up, but I was a little annoyed.  As she hung up she told me that she would hang a bag with some cookies on her door for us because she had bought some (insert another long story with unnecessary details such as which area of the store these cookies are located in and roughly how much they cost and how often she is able to find them) and wanted to share.  I thanked her and hung up.  It just so happened that my husband and I were headed out a little later to do a quick late night grocery run (once I was actually at a good stopping point for the night with my paper) and we grabbed Joan's trash on the way out.  The bag with "a few cookies" turned out to be a huge collection of cookies, crackers and candies... enough to last us weeks.

I felt a pit in my stomach.  Here I (again) had been so focused on my own needs that I really kind of blew her off (even if it was internally)... I only half listened to her once I understood her request, and when I hung up the phone I made some sarcastic comment in my head.  What made me feel so bad was that I had been annoyed and frustrated, and she felt heard and special because someone kept her on the phone for a half hour talking about dumpsters and cookies.  So I decided to make things right for me, I would invest some time in her as well, and I wrote her a letter.  I could stick it under her door, but I'm mailing it, stamp and all, because I think it will emphasize that I am trying to acknowledge her.  The letter was short, I don't really know her well so I didn't have a whole lot to say, but I put in the time and effort to recognize her without being petty and frustrated.  I felt better about it, and I have a feeling she will be really excited to get some "real mail" from someone who took the time to care... Joan gave me a wake up call on myself, so I was glad for it, and I hope it will help me be a better and more patient person in the future!