Generations

When I decided to step outside my comfort zone to take a public speaking class, I hoped this experience would teach me more about who I am. In just two classes, I’ve learned a great deal about myself, which is both wonderful and frustrating. 

It is wonderful that I now know my true values regarding a multitude of social values and where I place myself in relation to others. It is also frustrating because I want to leave the course because I now know what I need to help myself grow as a more well-rounded human being. 

The class is run by a popular organisation in London called Hoopla. Its very inspiring reviews certainly compelled me to sign up because of the variety of people who had given reviews. I felt that I would fit in nicely with the varying ages who have attended and the many different types of people from different work backgrounds represented in the reviews. 

The particular location I chose was called, The Umbrella Rooms, located on Shaftsbury Avenue. Once through the front door, anyone entering faces a very steep spiral staircase, and our classroom is at the top of four or five floors. Though I’ve been working hard on my fitness and health since having cancer four years ago, I found that climbing a steep spiral staircase, as well as descending it, made my knees hurt like crazy. If I’d tried this class two years ago, I’d never have gotten up the first few steps.

In my entrance into the course, I faced the fact that everyone was in their twenties and thirties, with the majority being office workers. Our teacher was in her twenties with very little life experience, and though she was lovely and bursting with confidence, I found myself suppressing yawns and trying to focus while she went through the stereotypes of certain types of people in our society and how they “typically” behave….like “Journalist”, “Artist”, “Teacher”, etc. 

Sitting in the crowd of “in their prime” young office workers and listening to them rattle off the attributes of an artist being eccentric, introverted and poor, I felt like I was absolutely in the wrong place. Before I knew what I was doing, I had stopped listening to the lesson and was plotting my escape, and when the class ended, I was like a bullet out of the class, fleeing into the darkened streets of London and thrilled to be away! 

While walking to the station after this class, I reflected on my performance in public speaking. I’d possibly learned that certain people in their twenties and thirties are pretty self-centred and unintentionally or maybe intentionally practice ostracism of anyone (menopausal) or just in a different social category. Perhaps this is because they’ve yet to get to this grand place of intermittent hot flushes, cancer survivorship and navigating through the death of loved ones. I am not saying that only older people suffer the death of a loved one, but that this is a reflection of my spiritual journey about these specific individuals.

During each of the breaks in the two classes I attended, I watched everyone break into little groups to chat, and when I found myself sitting on my own, I attempted to involve myself in different clusters. It was fascinating and perplexing when these clumps moved away from me and physically turned their backs on me. A few individuals made loud statements about older people not being able to understand today’s generation, seemingly loudly directed at me as an extra deterrent against me trying to join the conversation again. 

The message was clear: anyone older was not allowed. This was not my tribe. 

I reflected on this experience after returning home and concluding that I didn’t want to return for the remaining classes, which, in a way, helped me embrace my quite solitary lifestyle that I now feel is a wonderful lifestyle as I don’t need to force myself out of my comfort zone at the cost of my own mental health. 

I don’t feel that I’ve failed in facing public speaking, but rather that I’ve put myself into unexpected social situations that have given me a greater understanding of how I have been living my life and what I value about my solitary lifestyle. 

In a way, knowing when to step away from a toxic environment is a strength. I don’t think I would have stepped away when I was younger, so it feels bold and adventurous to bow out of a course I had initially thought would benefit my emotional well-being. I went into this course with an idea of a life lesson I wanted to overcome. Instead, the Universe gave me a different lesson I didn’t expect. Suddenly, my path ahead seems much more straightforward than before though in my explaining of my experience, I feel I’m making a muddy description of it here.

I also realise that I don’t fear public speaking as I thought. I’ve been teaching for 30 years, and over that time, I’ve given thousands of lectures on art history and the ways of making and each time, I faced an audience of, more often than not, twenty or so bored teenagers or distracted children. I don’t fear those moments in facing an audience of kids or adults as it’s just teaching which comes naturally to me fueled steadily by my relentless passion for being an artist. 

I think what I fear is not speaking in public but rather delivering concise and well-thought-out ideas without the discombobulating disruptions of my ADHD and dyslexia that often have me providing lessons in a disjointed and very visual way. I thought that by attending a public speaking course, I’d somehow learn to formulate my thoughts better so I could help my audience understand and be interested in my lessons and henceforth make me a better teacher. However, I may need a strategy different from attending a public speaking course. Something to ponder. 

Even my regular Friday late drawing class has made me realise I need to re-evaluate how I teach and what works and what doesn’t work in this steadily anxious world. So I’m going back to the drawing board, as it were, to rethink how I can better help others in an art teacher/art therapist capacity and, perhaps by the end of the next month, will update my teaching offerings to reflect better ways to help others navigate their lives in a world where the arts in education are not at all supported or used as a tool for relaxation. 

Regarding Hoopla, I’ve since left the course and, after sharing my reasons for leaving, received a refund, which was very generous of them. They believe their company to be inclusive, which I feel is slightly incorrect. I think that can only happen when they create classes for older age groups in different careers and have a classroom accessible to everyone. So, if you’re looking at Hoopla as an option for your growth, I hope my review helps you make the best decision for your needs.

In the meantime, I’m refocusing my interests for this year, particularly overcoming my fears and looking for growth while being out of my comfort zone. Maybe the next one to try is getting over my fear of spiders!

Maybe…..