Abstract
Prenatal educator humorously reflects on misjudging class participants' personalities.
Keywords: childbirth education, humor
Remember how nervous you were the first time you taught a class of any kind? Are you aware that public speaking is listed above death when people are asked to rate their fears? That means that most people would rather die than do what we do!
I remember that first class, all right, standing in front of the couples, my knees quivering and my mind swirling. The sweat from my palms was quietly disintegrating the notes I had tightly wadded in my hand. I recall forcing a smile, looking to my mentor in the back of the room for support, and eventually coming to focus on the one person who looked more mortified than I was—the reluctant father with attitude! Nearly every class has one. You know the one.
Everyone else would laugh and seem to enjoy participating. Okay, they would at least nod occasionally. The “Scowlers,” as I began to think of them, would typically sit in the back of the room, arms folded resolutely across their chest and … well, you guessed it, scowling.
Oh, how I tried to win them over. My mind would reel. “If I try harder. If I somehow find the perfect adult-learning technique to ring their chimes. If I seek them out and specially befriend them before class starts. If I just try harder. If I wear fishnets. If I don't wear fishnets!”
Next on my list of energy drainers were the couples who seemed queasy and squeamish about everything. Often, one's face would be buried into the sleeve of the other. I would find myself glancing over, as if I needed them to retain their color in order to proceed. Visions of being unable to locate smelling salts would take over my forebrain. “Squeamers” mean no harm, but no one likes janitors arriving with sawdust.
The “Scoffers” could also be unnerving. These aggressive souls—no wait, assertive is the word—would spend class time searching for loopholes in reasoning and challenge infinitesimal and inconsequential details. Did I ever mention my husband is an engineer?
Thank goodness, these personalities don't bother or distract me any longer! Why, it has only taken me 20 years to accept that we can't and needn't try to please them all. Now, instead of playing to the Scoffers, Squeamers, and Scowlers, I focus on the “Scorers”—the ones who are happy to be there, who “get it,” and who will tip the scores on my evaluations in my favor!
Occasionally, as I collect evaluations during that final session, I see one of the Scowler couples approaching me. Just as I brace myself for the worst, they completely shock me with a stream of accolades and compliments. As they uncharacteristically gush about the fine time they had, I want to get nose-to-nose with them and shriek, “Tell your face!” Instead, I am humbled by my misjudgment and truly appreciative that public speaking is, for me, less scary than a Squeamer on movie night!
Note: Deb travels nationally, presenting keynote speeches for perinatal practitioners. For booking information, call 800-682-2347 or visit www.debgauldin.com. Deb's CDs and tapes contain songs about pregnancy, childbirth, and the adjustment to parenthood. They are available through Lamaze International (800-368-4404).
Role Play
A couple just started their Lamaze class and they were given an activity requiring the husband to wear a bag of sand—to give him an idea of what it feels like to be pregnant.
The husband stood up and shrugged. “This doesn't feel so bad,” he said.
The instructor then dropped a pen and asked the husband to pick it up.
“You want me to pick up the pen as if I were pregnant, the way my wife would do it?” the husband asked.
“Exactly,” replied the instructor.
To the delight of the other husbands, he turned to his wife and said, “Honey, pick up that pen for me.”
[Visit www.nursinghumor.com for more on-the-job chuckles.]