\”I cannot think,\” I said at last.
I knew that this was going to happen. I had prepared myself…at least in counseling. Now to protect myself.
Entering the room, I vocalized my concern immediately, \”Does she always say so much? I am more used to a style where everyone has a chance for input.\”
The other two—middle-aged men—disagreed with me, pointing out that she gave insight that they couldn\’t see. And that she was so successful that we should listen.
I have always known this—success does not translate to great teaching. Some people cannot articulate their genius. And to think, what does genius really mean? What does genius really mean when it cannot be shared? I would think that true genius comes from a genius…great intelligence and the ability to share.
But I decide to take the jump, the risk. What could I lose? Beyond losing face and dignity, which I lost in some way.
I shared the piece: a letter from a mother to daughter.
The first thing that she critiqued was the lack of a title. She went on and on for several seconds about the title. I simply said that the title wasn\’t in the center of the page and that it was in the heading.
I passed that off and read the piece. Halfway through, I felt uncomfortable reading it…but I chugged along.
Then suddenly all the critiques turned to shambles. I tried to make it clear that it was about a mother and daughter. I never did say that it was about myself. And I corrected her. She kept pushing pushing.
And at some point, I lost it and just said, \”I cannot think.\”
I couldn\’t hear anything except her saying things. and that\’s when it went horrible.
I am still angry. But I couldn\’t say: Stop stop it. I couldn\’t say, i never said that this was true. I never said it. i never said that it was based on my life. What are you trying to do?
Instead I felt ruined inside, torn apart, inspected, violated my privacy.
As I walked out, she asked if she would see me next week and I replied, \”I can\’t make it anymore.\”
She sent an email later. Not an apology. I wanted to respond with threats…and other angry messages. I had written out a long email about what to fix, what to change. But in the end, I simply said that the workshop wasn\’t for me.
I am still angry.