Day 27: Work does not define us

02/03/2018

Day 27

Task—Write about work

Since 2003, I have defined myself first as a teacher. Introducing myself to people as an English teacher makes me comfortable because there is a rhythm the introduction seems to follow.

Conversation rhythm for a middle school language arts teacher:

Me: Nice to meet you. Elissa Hoffert (extends hand for solid handshake).

New Person: What do you do?

Me: I’m a teacher (with pride and a genuine smile).

New Person: What do you teach?

Me: Eighth grade English.

The Four Most Typical Responses to “Eighth Grade English” from New Person

A: New Person labels me--Eighth grade. Woof. You must be a saint/ a crazy person. It takes a special person to teach middle school (nodding head with wide-eyed appreciation).

B: New Person makes a personal confession--Oof. I’m a terrible writer. I always hated English and grammar (shaking head no and shrugging, giggling nervously).

C: New Person shares interest--I always loved writing/ reading (sometimes putting a hand on his/her heart, nodding with a bosom buddie’s camaraderie).

D. New Person makes it painfully obvious my job would be about as fun as getting her toe nails extracted one by one with a pair of pliers— That must be FUN (extra emphasis on

FUN in a sarcastic tone, sometimes with rolling eyes).

For me, there’s something soothing in the recurrence of these patterns. I know the questions, I know my answers, and I know how to make them sound clever and fresh in the moment. The teacher label and the reactions people give it are part of my identity, but what happens when that personal definition gets stripped away? I’m actively trying to figure out my answer right now. Without this professional label, how can I prove to the people I meet (let alone to myself) I am contributing to my household, or I am intelligent and able to contribute to the conversation in which we’re about to engage? Sure, Oprah Winfrey has been quoted as saying being a stay-at-home mom is the toughest job in the world, but do people really believe that, and should their stance on that statement matter one rip to me?

As I ask myself these questions, I am reminded of Brené Brown’s book Braving the Wilderness. In her book, Brown discusses having the courage to be ourselves so completely belong everywhere and belong nowhere. In other words, she suggests we own who we are no matter who is (or isn’t) watching us. At one point, Brown writes the following:

"Stop walking through the world looking for confirmation that you don’t belong. You will always find it because you’ve made that your mission. Stop scouring people’s faces for evidence that you’re not enough. You will always find it because you’ve made that your goal. True belonging and self-worth are not goods; we don’t negotiate their value with the world. The truth about who we are lives in our hearts. Our call to courage is to protect our wild heart against constant evaluation, especially our own. No one belongs here more than you."

My teacher label has become a social settings license and registration I can hold up to anyone who asks to prove I belong in the space occupy. But, Brown suggests that sort of validation is not necessary. She points out the necessary part is for us to believe we belong without needing an evaluation from anyone we’re meeting. I am not my work, and I don’t need my work to create an access pass to social acceptance. It’s much easier to type those words and believe those words for others than it is to say those words and believe them for myself. In Braving the Wilderness, Brown mentions she and her kids started showing up in their lives with the belief they belonged wherever they were. They found it to be transformative.

I agree; showing up like we belong everywhere is life changing! With our decision to move to Massachusetts, my entire life changed—I left family, dear friends, comfortable social gatherings, and a job I had enjoyed for about 13 years (though not 13 years in the same place). Since we’ve moved to our home in Maynard, I have decided to dig in and make a go of it here in our new home, and I have had to put myself out there as the stay-at-home mom Elissa (who really isn’t anyone to be ashamed of). I had to find social gatherings not associated with work and show up as if I belonged.

The first time I found my way to a Friday morning play group here in town, I felt all sorts of crazy and wondered if Beck and I would stick out from the rest of the crowd like sore thumbs. But, when I got out of my car, I decided to approach the crowd, my two-year-old in tow, and say, “We're here for the Maynard Family Network Play Group.” I decided against asking, “Is this where play group meets? Can I join you guys?” It changed my perspective, and to be honest, I don’t even think that my teacher label came up at the first play group. I was asking questions about where to take Beck on bad-weather days and learning names of kids and parents. No one cared I had been a teacher.

Our work is important, and eventually I plan to go back to my work—being a teacher. However, our work is not what defines us, and it’s not what makes us acceptable in the world. We are already acceptable in the world! We can all go forth with courage, resting on this simple fact.