Erasing the Illusion of Competence

I like to think of myself as a competent person. This past week, that perception has been challenged. Let me tell you the story of a few of my less-than-stellar moments while at the National Association for the Education of Young Children (NAEYC) Conference in Orlando, Florida.

I traveled from Minnesota to Florida with Lisa, Kerry, and Maggie, three amazing women. We started out early on a Tuesday morning, suitcases stowed neatly in the back of Lisa’s van. We made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. On the way through security at the airport, only I got stopped. My toothpaste tube was on the chubby side, but the “inspector” flattened it and eventually let me through. I struggled to get my shoes on, get my items put away in my over-stuffed luggage, and catch up with the ladies. As we waited to board our flight, I attempted to lower the pull-handle on my tiny suitcase. It wouldn’t budge. No matter who pushed it or how hard they pushed it, that handle never moved again. Of course, a suitcase with a handle that won’t retract doesn’t make a very good carry-on bag. We had a kind flight attendant who stashed it in a closet for the flight. I didn’t exactly get in trouble, but I did cause a bit of extra work.

When we arrived in Florida, our first outing (after lunch) was to Epcot. As we walked around Epcot, it was clear that my shoe choice was incorrect. I was not going to be slowed down by that, but by the end of the evening, I had slash marks across my ankles from where my shoes dug in. Each step was painful, and because I was walking awkwardly, my whole body hurt. Those shoes were not fancy and did not have big heels, but the choice of wearing them for an evening of walking was still unwise, and I paid the consequences.

 

My position for most of the night, trying to keep up with these lovely ladies.

Those first incidents were small, but by the first and second days of the conference, I really started wondering about myself. Two days in a row, I “fake-lost” my wallet. I know, I know, that’s not a real term, but here’s what happened. On the first day of the conference, I left my wallet, with my phone inside, in the hotel room. However, with none of us back at the hotel, I couldn’t be sure that the wallet was there. I spent the day hoping, wondering, and anticipating finding it when we returned. It all worked out OK in the end, but I was unsettled that I could forget something so important. It was inconvenient, as well, to be at the conference center with no phone and no money. On the second day, I carried too much with me. I had a bag filled with give-away goodies, my 35mm camera in a small-ish shoulder bag, and my backpack with a laptop in it. (No, I probably didn’t NEED to carry all that. Suspect choices, again….) After a hurried lunch, I sat down in my first afternoon class. I reached into my backpack and - no wallet. My heart sank. There was no need to panic, though. I was sure it must be in one of my multiple bags. I must have just put it in a different place than I normally would have, in my hurry to finish lunch. I resisted the urge to run out of the class I was attending, and instead methodically looked through all of my bags at least three times. Nothing. The class ended a bit early, so I rushed to the exhibit hall, where I had eaten my lunch. I looked around the tables, talked to the vendors, and asked at the lost and found areas. Nothing. My heart was beating pretty quickly by this point. At least my phone had been in my pocket most of the day, so I still had it. I decided that the thing to do was to call R.J. and ask him to pray. He was in a meeting and couldn’t take my call. I found a somewhat isolated place to sit and put all my bags down while I prayed and reflected on my stupidity. I texted R.J. to ask him to pray (and to let him know he married an idiot). Honestly, what kind of a person misplaces her wallet two days in a row? As I sat, I prayed once again as I emptied my bags, still searching, but without hope. I took out my laptop to see if there was Wi-Fi, so I might check the venue website to find out more about lost and found. There, in the bottom of the laptop compartment of my backpack, was my wallet. In my initial searches, I must have only reached in front of the computer, while the wallet hid itself in back of it. Relief washed over me. I called R.J. again, his meeting now over, and told him what once was lost was now found. Later, back with Lisa, Kerry, and Maggie, I told them about my panicked moments of the day, and we all laughed. It wasn’t quite funny yet for me, but relief can help a person laugh.

 

Here I am in the exhibit hall, trying to embrace Pete the Cat's
philosophy of "It's all good."

Friday was day three of the conference and our final day in Orlando. Getting ready for the trip home, I tried to pack all my conference goodies into the small carry-on and backpack I had with me. Physics worked against me, and there was no way it would all fit. (Here’s a conference tip: always pack so as to leave room for purchases and give-aways!) Fortunately for me, Kerry had some room in her checked-bag and she was gracious enough to let me use her extra space. As we checked out of our hotel room, we all left our bags there to head to the conference. Each of us got a check tag to retrieve the bag when we returned. You guessed it. I lost mine. Fortunately, my suitcase with the broken handle was easily identifiable and not desirable for anyone else. We were off to the airport. I was careful to put my boarding pass in a front pocket of my backpack and to take my ID out of my purse and put it in my pants pocket, so I could find those items easily as we checked in at the airport. We all made it through check-in, and I kept the boarding pass and ID handy for, well, boarding the plane. The plane was full to the brim, and the request was made that passengers check any bags that would not stow sideways in the overhead compartment. My long-necked bag fit that description, so I checked it. The choice to bring that bag had impacted every phase of the trip. Oh well, we were on our way home and I could relax. Well, not exactly relax; seated between two long-legged men on the plane, with very little leg room for my own short legs, my ankles decided to swell up like balloons about half an hour into the flight. This was one event that wasn’t really my fault, but it was still uncomfortable and distracted me from putting my ID back where it belonged, in my wallet. I could barely even get into my backpack in that center seat position, so the ID stayed in my pocket and I promptly forgot about it. My final act of incompetence was that on our shuttle ride to the parking lot, after we arrived back in Minnesota, my ID fell out of my pocket. As we were paying to exit the lot, the attendant got the call that Elizabeth Traff’s license was in the shuttle.  We could wait for the shuttle to return to the front of the lot, and the driver would give us my license. Oh for Pete’s sake, Liz!!! Not again! Why haven’t you learned the lesson to check your spot before you leave places? It was downright embarrassing. Any illusion of competence that Lisa, Kerry, or Maggie had seen in me prior to this trip was clearly erased at this point. It was quite obvious that I could not be trusted to hang on to ANYTHING!

“Take some deep breaths, Liz,” I told myself. These were a series of unfortunate events, and they did present a lesson to be learned; however, they did not define me. And not only that, they did not define my conference experience. I learned so much, and I will not let the evil one diminish that growth and learning. My ego needs to be set aside, once and for all. I can take pride in what I do without having to be perfect, which is good, because I will never be perfect. More than that, though, I am increasingly teachable once I get rid of the need to be perfect. Being imperfect, absentminded, and flawed  is inconvenient, but realizing those obvious traits in myself gives me a starting point for growth.

While at the NAEYC Conference, I learned more than I could ever put in a single blog. I attended nine different sessions and heard so many, amazing ideas. For those of you who might also benefit from these ideas, here are my biggest conference “take-aways” in bullet points:

·         Impulse control allows us to connect with other humans.

·         If there were not any student questions, you did not do a project.

·         When we do the thinking, we take away the child’s ability to think.

·         Build in reflection at the end of center time.

·         When solving math problems in a group, children listening to others might change their ideas or keep their ideas, but either way they will compare their ideas to the ideas of others and make connections.

·         The two key skills that drama helps children develop are following directions and understanding that they are part of a whole.

·         In science education, don’t worry about perfection; learning is a process, the foundation of which will continue to be built upon in years to come. (Wait a minute, that sounds applicable to my conference incompetence!)

·         Provide specific, positive feedback, but don’t stop there. Encourage/teach peers to do the same.

Those bullets are just the beginning. Mighty things can happen when you are willing to change the way you do things, to be molded, to be challenged. I am willing and ready, and can’t wait to turn the page.