The Tin (wo)Man

* cross posted with my "Executive Log" as part of my BUS 4610 class. We have to keep a journal through our process and turn it in at the end of the quarter. I thought I would save some braincells and post it here, too, as it is part of my journey.

I’m faced with both excitement and trepidation as I start my first week back at school in 11 years. There’s a scene in the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy comes upon the Tin Man rusted up. He whines something to her. She realizes that nearby sits a can of oil and starts to apply oil to his mouth so he can talk. As she continues, the Tin Man comes to life. I feel like my brain is that Tin Man, desperately trying to get through the content that is being thrust at us.

Like the Tin Man I am frustrated and overwhelmed by my own inability to connect the dots in my brain with the outside world. I knew that grad school would be a challenge. It’s not the challenge that scares me; it’s the anxiety I feel. I’ve always been that student in class, the one who is prepared and turn things in on time. (I've enjoyed and been good at school since 6th grade when the light switch turned on.) But I have this feeling that there is something I’m missing, there’s a part or piece of information that I haven’t come across. For years after high school I continue to have anxiety dreams. They are the ones where I’m late for class and don’t know the room number. Or the classic can’t find my locker or remember my locker combination. I know that they reflect a deeper sense of anxiety about my life and really have nothing to do with school.

The strange thing is that I really love beginnings. I’m kind of strange that way. When reading a book or watching a movie, the beginning, or story set up is much more interesting to me than the climax or conclusion. New things excite me. This is the point where I am torn. This new beginning, this grand change and short-term sacrifice that I’ve made for myself is an incredibly exciting and exhilarating new adventure for me. It feels like a roller coaster, and I’m sitting in the front with my hands in the air. My stomach jumps into my throat at each change in pitch. This class is that change. I just didn’t expect it. I don’t know why. The topic is incredibly interesting and compelling to me. I know that I’ll grow through the readings, teamwork and interaction with everyone from the professors to my fellow students.

At the same time, I feel that I’m not prepared for the self-evaluation and reflection that we have to do. I’ve always had this deep held fear that I’m not good enough to be my authentic self. But I know that I don’t help anyone by living small and scared. I hope to learn how to let go of those fears during this journey. My first step involves a can of oil for those rusted out academic joints and a lot of confidence.