Three Lives of an Overachiever
This was originally delivered as a speech at the November 16, 2017 meeting of the Mountaineer Toastmasters as the Icebreaker for the Visionary Communication pathway.
How many lives do you live? Is your life at work or school the same as the life you take home to your spouse or parents? Do you have different lives for different social groups? Do you live some lives more than others? Madam Toastmaster, fellow Toastmasters, and welcome guests, I know I live many lives at the same time. To name three, I am a transportation engineer, a professor, and a patient.
Most people think transportation engineer when they think of Janet Fraser. I earned this title after more than 10 years of university education. When introducing yourself as a transportation engineer, prepare for groans at best and gripes at worst. Everyone thinks the roads they drive are the worst. Usually, they’re wrong. Not everyone can drive the worst roads. Frankly, I have yet to find the very worst roads. It is always a matter of relativity. My mom would disagree. Despite having some of the best roads and public transit in North America, her experience in Vancouver, British Columbia is the worst ever. Attempting to explain decisions made by government agencies while fostering a budding friendship is a delicate conversation. I always try to emphasize the fact that I’m not just a transportation engineer!
When introducing yourself as a professor, come prepared for a story! Everyone has been a student and, unfortunately, not all teachers and professors are good and some even have bad days. In this situation, you are about to hear the worst story about the worst professor, who was probably having the worst day ever. Sometimes you will even know right away that you’re guilty of the critical failure making that person the worst professor ever. Yes, I have cruelly refused to accept a late assignment and even I occasionally have a day where I’m only going to read the notes right off of the PowerPoint. Teaching is a very unforgiving profession in that if you’re having a bad day, you’re sharing that experience with each and every one of your students. But I can’t tell you that right now, because you’re hoping I’m not that professor and you're saying really nice things about me! But I’m not just a professor!
Not every life is a bold occupational success. When dangling your feet off of the examination table, you don’t even have to introduce yourself as a patient. That’s just what you are when you’re here and you aren’t the doctor. You have to take the news: good, bad, or inconclusive and find the next words, the next questions to ask. When confronted with a diagnosis, and you can’t actually say the words, let alone ask—what does this mean for my life? A skilled doctor can predict the obvious, general questions and know that you need to know the prognosis, the treatment options, and when you need to come back for your next appointment. But more specific questions, like how will this impact my hobbies? Should I modify my working environment? At what point should I consider switching from one kind of medication to another? You have to find those words on your own, and you don’t have a lot of time.
I have many other lives: wife, daughter, Canadian, Toastmaster. And I will have many future lives, born out of things like promotions, friendships, and by association.
These lives all have one thing in common. Communication. Communication is critical to navigating each life and the thread connecting each life. Without the ability to explain a hazardous road condition, people could get hurt or worse. Without the ability to describe the complexities of multiple regression analysis, my students aren’t learning about one of the most elegant ways to analyze their data. Without the ability to listen carefully as the doctor speaks, I miss the opportunity to ask the questions that will help guide the choices impacting all of my lives until I see them again. Communication is so important. Mastering communication in each of my lives is why I am here.
But I have to ask, how many lives do you live?