Work in Progress #5: If You Don't, Who Will?
- Franklyn Thomas
- Mar 3, 2023
- 3 min read
I was raised to think that humility was good and anything that wasn’t humility was hubris, and therefore bad.
These are, of course, not things that were outright told to me by my mother or grandmother, or anything like that. No, this is stuff internalized from decades of watching award shows, reading magazine articles, and watching interviews of successful people who are all too happy to downplay their accomplishments, dismissing them as the product of a divine gift or even blind luck. Those that do acknowledge something else merely says they worked hard. It’s astounding to me how many people I see this behavior from are minorities, but that’s a rant for another day.
Culturally, for some reason, we are trained to think that quiet humility is a trait good people have; that we should avoid calling attention to ourselves and let the things we’ve done speak for us. What that looks like for me is that I am an independent author who is laughably bad a self-promotion. Yes, I realize the multiple layers of irony in that statement, considering the platform and all, but I stand by it.
Most recently, I came across this behavior (almost like a nervous tic) while discussing my paying job with other people in my field. I talked about things I’ve done in terms of testing, had plenty of war stories about working in terrible sleep labs, and had even more stories about working with unscrupulous doctors. But after 17 years, I feel like I’m about as good at my job as anyone. And I said as much.
I saw the faces turn immediately, like I said something wrong. The statement, regardless of its accuracy, came off as arrogant. And I found myself genuinely confused by that. Still do.
Why is it arrogant to acknowledge the skills you’ve honed over the years? Why is a generous self-assessment of your abilities, especially when you can back it up, so prone to make people grimace?
I’ve turned this question over in my head a few thousand times, and the answer I come up with is that we like people more who lead with their insecurities. It makes them feel relatable, and more important, makes us not feel inferior.
And don’t get me wrong: the stuff in the award shows and at the end of ball games, where the athlete or actor or singer thanks the team of people around them for all their efforts is valid. Most people with any degree of success have a strong support system in place to encourage and motivate them, especially on the days they don’t wanna. They had the sibling who drove them to classes, the parent who worked extra shifts to get them into that sports camp and showed up at every one of their games. They have the significant other who brought them coffee in the middle of the night while they studied. And don't forget the coach or trainer who showed you how and pushed you when you thought you couldn't. And that team absolutely deserves their flowers.
But also, we shouldn’t forget to celebrate ourselves for actually doing the thing.
So, I would like everyone reading this to take a moment and look at where they are and how far they've come. Tahe a second and look back on all the hard work you put in, all the hours that went into developing your talent or skill, and all the stuff you had control over in the process. It doesn't matter what it is you do, from writing a book to becoming the best athlete you can, from learning a trade to teaching a class, from being a good person to being a good parent. Look back at it, smile, and take a bow. You did it, and no one else could do it the way you did. And no matter what you tell people, or what people tell you, the fact that you did it is immutable.
Thanks Frank for this one. Here it is, I’m a good teacher! I became that way after a few years, but in the end was a GOOD teacher.