WARNING: This blogpost
was supposed to be focused mainly on how I personally evolved within the realm
of shyness. And it is about that, but somehow it just kinda started getting
injected with a boatload of reminiscings of various parts of my BYU-Idaho life
of the olden days… And so there are tangents. I hope that is okay.
Anecdote
I was a college senior at Brigham Young University – Idaho.
I was a couple of weeks away from graduating. I was, at the time, taking a
certain capstone course that I’m not afraid to say was kind of a big deal. Our
small class of about 10 students used a whole semester to put on BYU-Idaho’s
annual “Communication Day Seminar,” which I think (if I remember correctly) we
just colloquially referred to as “Comm Day.”
Comm Day preparations included us inviting several
communication professionals from around the country to come present at the
event. That had its challenges, but we were able to locate and bring over six
people – we called them “special guests,” because … well … they were our guests
and they were pretty awesome. Some of us 10 capstone students were each put in
charge of hosting an individual special guest. I was placed in charge of
hosting a newspaper columnist from Tacoma, Washington.
Comm Day lasted a few days – about three:
- First day was the day we chauffeured them from the
Idaho Falls Regional Airport to their hotel in Rexburg. I’m trying to remember if
we took them to dinner that night or the night after. I think it was the night
after. (The dinner is an important part of the story at which I shall soon
arrive. Hold your horses.)
- Second day was the seminar, and all six special
guests spoke at a forum that was intended for the entire College of Business
and Communication. The special guests also gave little workshops at different
times of the day. All things occurred in the most beautiful building on
BYU-Idaho’s campus: the John Taylor Building.
- Third day was when we brought them back to the
airport so that they could fly away home.
On the evening of the second day, we capstone kids (along
with our professors) took the special guests to dinner. We took them to
Craigo’s. (Über great name, huh? We Rexburgers always liked
it.) For those of you who are current Rexburgers, you may or may not have even heard of Craigo’s. Back in my day, there
was a wonderful pizza place called Craigo’s on that main big street that
practically everything is on (such as the Walmart). But waaaaaaaaay back in my
day (even earlier than that) (oh boy, and now I’m about to feel old again),
Craigo’s was located just west of campus, in a little ol’ shacky building that
had previously been a rundown pizza joint. It had recently gotten renovated –
and if you’ve ever heard of the Velour Live Music Gallery down in Provo, Utah –
that old OLD Craigo’s was just like the Velour, and college kids who had their
own bands and songs and stuff would play gigs there, and people would just come
on over to Craigo’s and eat pizza and sit and flirt and socialize and listen to
music. Mormon college kids’ Friday-night paradise.
Sorry, this is where a huge sentimental tangent
comes in…
As a BYU-I student, I did go to Craigo’s from time
to time. A Craigo’s outing was the first time I ever heard of the band
Coldplay. One particular group of student musicians were performing that night,
and at one point they introduced their next song – “Clocks” – and said it was
by Coldplay, and I was like Who in the
heck is Coldplay? and soon thereafter I had allowed myself to become hooked
to Coldplay. This student band also sang “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers, and
the ironic thing is that this student band’s lead singer was a boy who actually
did look like a girl I knew in high school…
It may have been that same night or a different night…
But one night, I was a brand-new freshman, walking through the Craigo’s front
door, and across the one large room I immediately spotted the guy I had a big
crush on. He was older than me. A junior. Returned missionary. I was still in
the super-youthful phase of life where the thought of dating a returned
missionary -- or anyone who was no longer a teenager -- was highly capable of
shaking me in my boots, yet it was exciting and it giddified me. His name was
John. He was from Rancho Cucamonga, California. Before I met him, I hadn’t ever
heard of that city. It sounded so exotic to me, and it made me like him more.
Don’t worry, though: I wasn’t really “boy crazy,” and I wasn’t crazy around
John, and he never thought I was crazy, and so all was well. He was always so
nice to me. We saw each other at the David O. McKay Library a lot (the Library
was often where love between students bloomed). He stalked me on “Stalkernet”
sometimes to contact me via email just to say hi, and once even invited me to
go on a walk with him. Whoooo ;)
But then life moved on and we drifted apart, and I
never saw him again since he graduated, probably got married, and moved to
who-knows-where.
But enough of John. Now, on to Jane.
My Encounter with Jane Clayson Johnson
Back to Craigo’s. The “newer”one. Not the
Velour-like one, but the larger location that the restaurant moved to. This
Craigo’s I am now talking about was fancier than the Velour one. More elegant.
It’s the place that we 10 capstone students picked to take our Comm Day special
guests to, for dining purposes “out on the town” (bahaha). We kind of
made it as formal as possible, since some of these special guests were, shall
we say, big whigs in the professional world. And so our seating at the dinner
table was assigned. I think it was our professors who arranged the seating.
Apparently I was supposed to sit not only by the special guest I was hosting,
but also right next to the keynote speaker – the most famous of them all:
renowned TV news anchor Jane Clayson Johnson.
I was closely nestled in between my person and this
Jane Clayson Johnson person, for an hour solid. Or longer. My person didn’t
make me nervous; he didn’t talk to me much. I don’t think he was much of a
talker anyway. I think he was maybe the least talkative at the Q&A portion
of the seminar. But this Jane lady? As a broadcast journalism guru and
television star, she was a talker. And
she wanted to talk to me – a lot. She’s a fabulous interviewer, by trade (“by
trade”? sure, I’ll use that phrase). It’s what she does.
And interview me is what she did. I felt like she
asked me so many questions. Probing questions, with those striking eyes, which
can pierce through any creature on earth. I always knew that, as a person, I
was always more on the shy side of the spectrum. This dinner setting was a
bold, scary time period during which I clearly, oh-so clearly noticed just how
shy I was. I was downright afraid! Jane asked me multiple times, “So how do you
feel about blah-blah-blah?” What was worse was that she’d ask insanely deep
follow-up questions to her original questions. And I continuously tried to
conceal my nerves and rack my brain to find something profound to reply with,
but then I’m sure it continuously came out so wobbly and wishily-washily.
Scared out of my mind.
I’m sure that all she really wanted to do was to
simply get to know me a little bit. Whatever discomfort that existed in that
encounter was all my own problem and fault, and not hers. But, I am also sure
that I am making this scene sound much, much worse than it was in actuality. I
am sure that I wasn’t as awkward as I say I was. People tell me all the time
that I handle stress really well, and hide anxiety really well. I’m sure I was
just fine during my chat with Jane.
I guess what’s buggin’ me now about it is how much I
wish I could go back in time and redo my conversation with Jane. If it were the
me-of-the-now sitting at that dinner table next to that lovely woman of poise
and remarkable accomplishment – oh, how ecstatic I’d be to ask her a gazillion questions! I’d want her
to tell me all about her growing-up life, about what influenced her to choose
the career path that she did, about her life as a wife and mother, about any
fun things she likes to do with her family… So many things I’d want to ask her!
And I’d be more open and unafraid to share my story with her. I’d be able to
more quickly find what words to say.
From “Painfully Shy” to “Outgoing Introvert”
I still am shy. I still sense butterflies zooming
and zipping inside my belly whenever I’m talking to someone I don’t know or
don’t yet know well. Depends on the situation, though. Sometimes there are
oodles of the flying insects, but sometimes not as many. I don’t fully “get it”
yet. Or maybe I do, but to explain it would probably take another series of
fifteen more blogposts.
Some people fall back in their chairs any time I
vocally confess that I am shy. They’re like, “Whaa? No way.” But yeah way. It’s
not as bad as it used to be, but it’s still a little bit there. When I was a tiny
tyke, I used to be in homemade movies and homemade plays with my best friends,
and I seemed to not want a whole bunch of lines to say. But as time went on,
and as I grew older, I got into a few more plays and makeshift movies, and
playing speaking roles gradually became less and less of an issue. In fact, it
became quite fun. I’m still no thespian, but acting is less freaky to me now
than it was in the past.
Right now I’d say that I’m definitely an “outgoing
introvert.” I love to make new friends. Blind dates are a lot less intimidating
to me than they used to be. I even once told my mom one day (I don’t know if
she remembers this): “I’ve come to the point where, if I had to call up the
President of the United States on the phone today and talk to him, I would be totally fine, if
I knew exactly what I needed to say.”
And it’s true. I think I have come a long way. The
following are life experiences that have helped me a lot:
- Dating. Relationships. Also, it’s a whole nother variety of healthy confidence that gets infused inside you when you (if you’re a girl) call up the boy and ask him out. I firmly believe that.
- Dating. Relationships. Also, it’s a whole nother variety of healthy confidence that gets infused inside you when you (if you’re a girl) call up the boy and ask him out. I firmly believe that.
- College. Group projects.
Internships. Public speaking. Extracurricular activities. Signing up for talent
shows. All good, nourishing things related to university life.
- Delegation. My natural style is to
want to do everything on my own if I am in a leadership position. But in realms
such as my church life, collegiate life, event-planning life, and personal life
in general, I’ve come to realize that it isn’t
healthy-wealthy-n’-wise to take on everything all by yourself. Another one
of my firm beliefs is this: allowing others to lend their helping hands
provides you with golden opportunities to understand and exercise the mandatory
skill of working with people. I say “mandatory” because you’re gonna be living
among people all of your life and for all eternity. And if you want a life of
goodness, then a huge factor of making life truly good is successfully
practicing harmonious coexistence and wholesome societal progression with
others. (Whew! Sorry. That bullet was an earful, I’m sure.)
- Multiple failed job interviews. One of the darkest times of my life was when the economy was especially bad and I was hunting hardcore for a job. I landed tons of interviews, but repeatedly got rejected. While each rejection slammed my emotions pretty hard, I somehow allowed each rejection to encourage me to keep my chin up and try again. I gained more confidence each time, and eventually snatched a pretty sweet job.
- The workforce. The business world. Having jobs, both part-time and full-time. Holding the responsibilities of training employees and encouraging others to perform their work to the best of their abilities. Numerous years in the workforce has helped grow me as a person in so many ways that I do realize, yet in so many more ways than I know.
- Music. Vocal performance. Piano performance. Undergoing nerve-racking auditions.
Attempting to labor in harmony with the rest of a great big choir, to produce
the loveliest of sound. (Side note – one of my new favorite quotes is by Sir
James Paul McCartney: “I love to hear a choir. I love the humanity – to see the
faces of real people devoting themselves to a piece of music. I like the
teamwork. It makes me feel optimistic about the human race when I see them
cooperating like that.”)
And much, much more.
And much, much more.
I enjoy being an introvert. I don’t want it to be
any other way. I like who I am. I like my occasional occasions of alone time,
sprinkled in the midst of the rest of the time when I’m with people. I like
being at parties where there aren’t too many folks runnin’ around, and that
likely will never, ever change, and I don’t want it to. Don’t get me wrong, I
do like folks. I love folks. I love people. But the place where I recharge my
spirit, mind, and emotions is in solitude, or in the company of a small handful
of beloved friends or family members. Or with my great big choir. :) This is
me.
But there was once a “me” whom I wanted to improve a
bit. I wanted to help that girl eliminate some of the fears she had. I wanted
to help her grow into a more confident human being. I wanted her to come to a
point where she wouldn’t be scared to talk to Jane Clayson Johnson, should she
ever have the chance of dining and chatting with her again.
I am pleased to announce that she has become that
new person. And as that person, she is a very, very happy camper. :)
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