I was invited to be a guest on a podcast and I was up literally at the crack of dawn to record it. My friend lives in Melbourne, Australia and we’ve been Twitter friends for a few years. Somehow I want to talk about how it feels for someone to ask to hear your voice – and want to share that voice publicly. I was deliberately asked to talk about myself – my feelings, experiences, beliefs, my writing. I was asked to stand in the spotlight and it was alright. I was alright.
I want to talk about how it felt, once we sorted our respective tech issues, to slowly relax into the conversation. How it felt to take my time in responding to some of his questions and to experience his encouraging tone in the follow ups. As I was speaking, offering my unique perspective, part of me was still wondering how much this matters: my take on education and social justice and my classroom. By the end I noticed how much firmer my voice felt, as if my conviction had finally found dry land to stand and walk upon.
We spoke about a number of things and I hope that I actually answered the questions he posed. When we’re in conversation, we may not always recognize the level of presence required to be a worthy contributor. My host was and is an extremely generous listener who helped me relocate an idea I may have dropped in the process of responding.
I was doubtful at the outset that we would need an hour. At 6:22 am, however, we were saying our goodbyes and I was ready to dance to the breakfast table with my 10 year old who got up and got himself dressed fully on his own. Whatever the outcome I feel grateful for the opportunity to have been listened to, recognized and appreciated. It’s a powerful experience to be asked for one’s opinion in earnest.