My local newspaper runs a recurring series called “My Worst Moment” featuring performers recalling times they would’ve liked to dig a hole on stage and crawl in. Joe Mantegna forgetting his lines onstage ($) at opening night of Glengarry Glen Ross in Chicago is my worst nightmare but Alison Brie’s tale is probably closer to my reality.
She recalls singing a Pat Benatar song for an audition for a musical in LA. And although she had belted it out on karaoke nights she didn’t have the voice to pull off the song in that moment. And her only day-of prep was singing along to the track in her car just before the audition.
Dudsville.
“It was such a dark moment and I think it just made me realize that if it’s something I’m afraid of doing — even for roles that don’t have singing involved but I think: I’m not right for this at all and I’ll never get it — I still want to put in the work.
“In my acting life, singing aside, I am not an under-preparer. If anything I’m an over-preparer. I do not wing it. I take it very seriously.
“I think that moment was a carry-over from high school when I was able to wing stuff. I was your classic B+ student in everything but drama — and it’s a laziness that I can’t abide by anymore, in any way. Even if you don’t get the part, at least you know you put your best foot forward. I would never want to stand in a room and have it look like I just didn’t care.
https://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/what-to-watch/ct-ent-my-worst-moment-alison-brie-20230207-nadci6cnejaefe72glvpkiyhki-story.html
“I would never want to stand in a room and have it look like I just didn’t care”. Yep. Practically a family motto.
I was obsessive in my game prep in my radio play-by-play days, and modern-day teaching (no textbook) makes it impossible to just show up cold and go “Hey kids, do page 363 #1-33 odd in your book . And oh yeah, show your work”. Making Quizizz slides for my lessons and Desmos activities takes time and intentional planning. My dad was a steelworker for 40 years and that blue-collar mentality is in my DNA.
I was selected for a teaching policy fellowship this year. I’m part of a statewide cohort of teachers who are reading, researching, writing, and advocating in areas of education policy. Now that our state legislature is in session, that also has included virtual meetings with lawmakers. And last week eight of us traveled to Indianapolis to meet face-to-face with some of the men and women crafting legislation that will affect me, my colleagues, my students, and my building.
I’m a very large introvert and the idea of sitting across a table or standing in a hallway with state representatives and senators was kind of terrifying, honestly. But as a friend of mine used to say, a little bit of healthy fear can be a good thing.
It scared me into working hard enough to not embarrass myself.
I’d done plenty of research work in my advocacy group, focused on equitable school funding. It’s a steep learning curve and a complex subject but I was starting to feel somewhat comfortable. Turns out though that the bills we were tracking mostly involved topics from our other two working groups, on teacher recruitment and retention, and mentoring programs for new teachers and diversifying our corps of teachers in the state. That meant I could play a little more of a supporting role in the actual meetings.
Our executive director did an outstanding job of preparing us for the day. Each group worked to craft a set of talking points and a one-pager to leave with lawmakers. At our mid-year retreat we role-played meetings with legislators and specifically practiced our “ask”. She hosted a two hour prep meeting on Zoom the night before Statehouse Day, plus I followed that up with my own individual study. I researched the voting history for each lawmaker I was scheduled to meet with, and listed two or three of their current bills that I wanted to be familiar with and ask about during the meetings. Damn was I ready.
Plus the first person I bumped into (after going through security) was my own state senator who is a fellow parishioner at my church. We made small talk riding up the elevator which put me somewhat at ease.
I was far from the only one who needed reassurance on Thursday morning. My partner and I sat together to make quick plans for the ground we wanted to cover in our meetings and compare notes, and she confided to me that she felt just as off her home turf as I did. (Also: I saw her notes and her prep work and she was ready, whether she felt like it or not. That was obvious once the meetings began.)
Our director anticipated our concerns as well. Her consistent advice to us was: Your job is not to be a policy expert. Your job is to be an expert at teaching. Use that to help lawmakers understand how their proposed legislation would influence you and your students.
Bam.
I finished the day with my ED and a senior policy fellow in a wide-ranging 90-minute meeting with the chair of the House Education Committee. I held my own, asked good questions, connected dots, shared my own experiences when appropriate, and although I don’t know if I changed any minds in Indianapolis I at least came in prepared and was willing to advocate in areas that are important for the profession, now and in the future.
Small talk and networking and influencing are not my strong suits, for real. I’m a teacher, not a salesman. But with plenty of support from my group of fellows and our leadership I was able to lean into my fears and do the job I was selected to do.
That felt good.
And honestly, I use those skills at making connections and trying to influence behavior on the daily in my classroom. Just with 16-year-olds instead of powerful lawmakers. Maybe I should give myself a little more credit?
Statehouse Day was an awesome experience. It re-energized me for the remainder of the fellowship and the remainder of the school year. The fellowship has stretched me in ways I didn’t expect.
I did have one more tactic to make me feel a bit more at ease as I began the day. I selected a parking garage across the street from the Statehouse entrance that features a statue of former Indiana governor and US senator Oliver P. Morton, for whom my school is named. He is renowned for leading Indiana through the Civil War years and the immediate aftermath.
That’s pretty high praise on that plaque. And I should probably keep working on leading from my position as well.
Tweaking For No Reason 