Darn Good What I Am

This piece was originally going to be called "I am a shite teacher," but I got over my pain and rage. The pain is still there, thrumming in my belly, but my heart is lighter, energized, revived, thanks to the honest compassion and beauty of OkieNawa, and the open ear of Aiden Fyre.I am one of the presenters at ALPSEC this fall.  It has been sold out since a month after it was announced.  The idea seemed simple enough- pedagogical theory and teaching skills for those working in alternative lifestyle education.  It is something I have been passionate about for some time- helping others communicate the stuff in their heads in such a way that they can get it into the heads of others.   Many folks I meet in the LGBT, Kink, Swinger, Poly, Pagan and beyond communities are passionate about what they like, what they do- but passion alone does not make you a decent educator, let alone a great one.A few years ago I pronounced loudly “fuck this noise” and started having dialogues with folks about how to raise the excellence.  We deserve excellence.  I am so sick of attending classes as a paid event attendees only get to watch rigger’s butt cracks as they talk into the tits of their models, of people telling me “how easy” a skill that I find hard is to do making me feel like the idiot, of high ego humans spouting off great litanies and no hard facts.So I started brainstorming, collaborating, hosting teaching gatherings at the space I was in, trying to get folks to read teaching skills books, teaching classes at places like LLC.  I and many others (Dan TooTall, Sarah Sloane, Lolita Wolf, Graydancer and others) started asking how do we make our community better?  What do we do to make this a place we can find excellence.  Eventually, through layers of adventure, drama, challenge, misunderstandings, and me being roped back in- ALPSEC was born.It’s sold out, BTW.  This is where this adventure gets interesting.So, we have a crew of folks designing and presenting the curriculum for ALPSEC, the very creatively named “Curriculum Committee.”  I know, we are all clever :)  We designed course descriptions, plans on what each of us would present, laid out what our overall concepts would be and the order best suited to have the classes be presented.  It was all fantastic- until we showed each other our work.As a team we had designed the list, as individuals we had designed the descriptions, and then as a team we put it all together.  But something basic had been skipped before we had spent the last few months designing the details of what each of us would be presenting: definitions.It all seems easy right?  Teacher, Educator, Presenter, Speaker.  What’s the difference, right?  Well, there is a gross difference, it turns out, in the world of collegiate academia.This difference led to different team members designing similar things because we had not set our definitions with each other in advance.  They assumed I was using academic terms, I assumed they were using lay terms, and lets just say my head exploded.No, lets not just say it.  Let’s explain that when I was presented with the details of how teachers are those who give explicit step by step instruction, direct instruction that takes the form of research based or learning theory based instruction… I proceeded to look further.  And the further I looked, the more I realized, I am not a teacher.  I am not a teacher, and I am being asked to teach teaching skills at a teaching skills conference.  My head, here, here is where it exploded.It exploded with velocity and force that, had I been 5 years ago on my path as an educator, had I just started asking to get paid, had I just been starting to look into the idea of me doing this as a living full time- I would have quit.  I did not quit.  Why?Because I am a fucking amazing educator.  I get stuff out of my head and into the heads of others (educate) very well indeed.  I am a fantastic bard, a skilled orator, a pretty darn good speaker.  I am an inspirational motivational speaker.  I kick ass as a group facilitator, a space-keeper, a mirror for those who need one.  I am a pretty fun performance artist and theatrical entertainer using voice and story as my tool.  My hands on workshops are informative and clear, but I have seen others do better within our community.I do okay as a coach, but I could do a lot better.  I am still learning panel moderation skills.  I do bounce-off style co-teaching but have never done the 2-teachers-equally-teaching thing.  I am not so good at this thing folks call mentoring, in fact, I am pretty crap at it, historically, unless I am fucking the person I am mentoring, and then I am tolerable because I don’t just wander off, distracted by shiny things.I am not very skilled at lecturing or formal demonstrations.  I am pretty darn shite at power point presentations and multi-media tools outside of a performativity setting.  My use of technology is that of setting the mood of a space, or interactive handouts, or pens on white boards, or music in the background… I am in fact pretty low tech.And I have almost no concept on designing formal lesson plans or proof of student learning modules.  I have never taught a semester-long class to the same students.  I am a guest lecturer, or a weekend intensive leader- these I do well.So as OkieNawa and I talked tonight, it hit me in the gut that I am, in fact, not a good teacher.  I am a great many other things, but I am only a decent to tolerable teacher.  I am an excellent educator.Please do not defend that  I am a good teacher, etc- I have no interest in continuing the debate.  No really, stop, and listen to what I have to say instead of getting defensive of me having some sort of ego-annihilatory moment.  I’m not.What I am having instead is a reality check and a really hard time with what I see.  Tonight is better than today was.  Today was hard.  Tonight is delightfully calm as I look back and breathe it all in.I broke down crying as we talked because it hurts to look folks in their eyes and be that reality check.  To say to them “you are a really great mentor, but really, I do not expect to see this person before me become a full time educator.”  When I get to look amazingly beautiful and brainiac woman and say “I know you have been doing this PhD track thing, but really, what is the plan for when you get out? What is the vision? Do you understand that you will need grant writing skills to make a job for you to even exist doing what you want to do?”  Okie does it every semester- telling new teachers that really, they don’t know what they are doing and may not be cut out for the job.As educators, presenters, teachers, guru, inspirers, speakers and more- the job is a pretty intense one.  We get to shape lives.  And sometimes, we don’t reach them.  Sometimes I look into a students eyes and realize I won’t get to save them.  Other times I think I did make a difference… only to have that student commit suicide over the emotional issues we had worked on 2 months earlier.Every single person I teach, I leave a sliver of me inside.  I am a communicable concept, a disease called evolution of the heart and revolution of the spirit.  I become more than I am with every breath- and what I plant does not go away.What that means is that I have no control over what happens to my thoughts when they leave my lips.  They transmute, transform, change in the terrain they encounter.  I have had folks come back to me years later, in one case over a decade later, and tell me what my words did to their life.  Some of it is good, perhaps even an overwhelming majority.  But other times, not so much.  I have mis-quoted information and had folks pass it on like parrots with my name attached.  I have had relationships end over my words.  I have scared people off their path by taking a flashlight and showing them the brambles ahead instead of offering them boots.But I only have so many boots to give out, so much energy I can spend.And then I read GaGa.  In Vanity Fair, she speaks on realizing she was big, that her work mattered.  She left a concert and 5000 fans had waited around, hoping for an autograph, to snap a picture.  She signed until her hands cramped up.  She went home thinking what more can I do, how else can I help, what can I sing that will stop just one more of them from killing themselves, making poor choices, help them get through another day.I get so upset when folks say “slow down Lee, you do too much Lee.”  No, I don’t.  I do what I can, how I can, when and where I can.  Because the world needs the dedication of those of us who can, and do, and will.  And I am ashamed that today, because I thought myself an idiot, because I still do not understand academic theories on teaching concepts or why the shit I do works, I tried to quit this project.  I planned out what it would take to cancel the event.  Because it was too much today.  Because I couldn’t get it.The revelation?I don’t get it.  I stare at the page after page, pour through Wikipedia articles and learning journals trying to get it- and I am lost.  And I will not be alone.  One of the attendees at ALPSEC will be lost too, and I will be able to raise my hand and say “you are not alone” and then get up in front of them and show them that I can kick ass as a funny, story-telling, sexy beast of a speaker anyway.  That I get enough to get what I do well, and what I don’t do well- and sometimes that it is okay to be in the dark… or better yet, have a team around you to help illuminate your path, to build the jargon of academic framework under your feet for you to stand on in a place of greatness.I am going to get up on stage and say that I am not an excellent lecturer, or the best teacher, but I am a darn good what I am.Because I am a darn good what I am.