Playing Orange?

Some people are just natural centers of attention. Some of these people blatantly manipulate the conversation to turn it back to themselves whenever it strays (whether or not they are aware that they are doing this), and this generally annoys me. But there are other people who seem to become the focus of a crowd, or a small group, just by nature of being there. It just happens, and I find this fascinating.

I generally find myself about as far from the center of attention as I possible, and I prefer to keep it that way. I don’t handle public complements well at all. I like complements as much as the next person, but I’d prefer that they were given in private. I often avoid speaking up in class because I don’t like all eyes on me or all ears on what I’m saying. It’s not really that I’m self conscious. I am just inherently uncomfortable in the spotlight and so I avoid acting in ways that will put me there.

I was thinking about this yesterday because, for a few short minutes, I suddenly found myself the center of attention in a small group of people. My three hour class was on break, and I was talking with my professor, and slowly other people were drawn into the conversation, either as participants or as observers, and it was all centered around me, around my grad school decision, my marathon training, etc. It wasn’t just that I was the topic of conversation—I was the focus of everything. I was in control of the group conversation and was doing more talking than anyone else, and people were listening to me, and it was kind of exhilarating. I finally stepped out of the room to get some water, and when I got out into the hall I sort of snapped out of it and my first thought was, “maybe that’s what it’s like to be orange…” And then I thought it was funny that this was the first thought to come to mind.

I mentioned this to my roommate later on (minus the color musings), and talked about how unusual such situations are because in general I much prefer to listen and look rather than to be listened to and looked at.

“It’s interesting that you say that, and yet you’re a teacher,” she said. And I thought about that. Actually, I’ve thought about that a lot, because teaching is one of my absolute favorite things to do. I have loved every class I have taught here in my two years of being a master’s student, and I look forward to having teaching opportunities for the rest of my life. The truth is, I am not a public speaker, I am not particularly outgoing, I am not comfortable in the spotlight. And the fact that I try to make my teaching very student-centered sort of reflects this. I am in teaching because it’s a challenge, and because I love my students, not because I like to “perform” for my class.

But at the same time, I absolutely love being up in front of my classroom. A friend sat in on one of my classes once, and when we left she said in amazement, “you’re like a different person in there—I’ve never seen you so outgoing!” And it’s true. When I’m standing up in front of my students, playing the role of teacher, I lose many of the social inhibitions that plague me in any other large-group interaction. It’s like an adrenaline rush, the same sort of adrenaline rush I had when I found myself at the center of attention yesterday. The same sort of adrenaline rush I feel every time I am able to break out of my quiet, reserved, somewhat distant social self and stop thinking about how I come across to other people or whether or not what I am about to say is funny or insightful or appropriate to the topic at hand. It’s the hidden extrovert in my introverted self, the part of me that finds energy in social situations where normally these situations tend to suck the energy out of me.

Hmm…