Go big or go home

I have totally and completely over-committed myself this semester. And how did I celebrate? By agreeing to teach an additional class at the community college as well as be on an advisory committee for my local chapter of my professional organization.

Clearly, I haven't the slightest idea how to say "No."

I wish I could say I had some altruistic purpose for taking the position on the advisory committee--I don't. It's totally selfish. It sounded like fun. And it was a chance to get involved in my local affiliate chapter. The class at the JC was really the more altruistic move. I am amazed at how much I enjoy working with interpreting students, how much I enjoy teaching, how much I enjoy facilitating education. Plus it gives me a chance to walk my talk, talk my walk, and lead by example.

Recently I was discussing the fact that a lot of what I do is "coping." Knowing how to deal with things when all is going to hell around you. Knowing how to work under pressure. Knowing how to walk away with your head high when you've just had the worst thing happen. And, above all, knowing how to graciously recognize the fact that despite the the fact you totally f'ed up, get over it, and move on. It won't necessarily kill your career (usually), and it gives you great war stories to share with friends and colleagues.

My grossest experience I posted about before (here). It's a story that has followed me across states, through multiple time zones, and has been the reason for people that I work with to encourage others to come up to me and ask me about being in cadaver lab.

My most embarrassing moment? Wow... that's a toughie. Not because I haven't had any. Au contraire. I've had too many to count or even remember.

Was it the time I used the sign for "ejaculate" because in the moment I couldn't figure out a better way to express the term "projectile" (as in "projectile weapons")? Maybe it was the time when I had a cold and I inadvertently spit my cough drop at the consumer. Or, it could be the time when I got tangled up in a microphone cord and took a face-plant on stage in front of a good hundred-plus of my friends and colleagues, with the sound of (Jean's) laughter echoing in my ears. Or maybe it was that time at friend/mentor/teacher's house when I misspoke and used the word "dead" instead of "deaf" as I was interpreting a social fundraiser. I have no doubt there are others that I have suppressed due to the high mortification factor.

Regardless of which situation takes the cake as THE most embarrassing, the point is I have many, and have lived, professionally, to tell about them.

If it's one thing I can do for the student interpreters who are currently coming up in the field is to serve as an example. Good, bad, or otherwise.