It's My Story

One of my grad students came by the main classroom of our summer program to update us on the first week of her internship. She was concerned because she had turned down the opportunity to do some field work with people outside her assigned department. Afterwards, her onsite supervisor pulled her aside to let her know that she should have taken the chance to experience different types of work.

Now the student feared she had set a negative impression for the rest of the summer. She explained in great detail why she had been reluctant to step outside her assignment; how she was surprised at how intimidated she was by her talented and experienced co-workers, and the dialogue she had in her head each time she had to interact with them.

In turn, my colleagues and I tried to reassure the student that one false step did not have to sour the rest of the internship. We offered her support; assured her that her professors and her employer had confidence in her abilities. We suggested scripts to use when talking with her colleagues, and to use her sincere admiration as a starting point in conversation. After all, everyone appreciates appreciation.

The student nodded and agreed with all we had to offer. Yet, she continued to rotate between the three faculty members, revisiting the hows and whys of her failure. After the second rotation, I came to realize how wedded she had become to her story. It had become her pet.

People make up stories all the time. And by “story,” I don’t mean lies or deliberate misrepresentations. We all use stories to make sense of the circumstances and situations we encounter every day. It helps to be able to compare an encounter to previous experience. Imagine living each day while having to assess anew each person and each action. It would be exhausting and paralyzing at the same time.

Unfortunately, we can get stuck with stories which no longer are true or no longer work for us. As with my student. Whatever benefit she gained from the self-analysis of her workplace error diminished as she revisited it again and again. In each retelling, the story became a more familiar pet that she could stroke and show off and share with others. It didn’t matter that the story showed her in a negative light. It brought her a certain comfort. It was her story, dammit, and she was sticking to it.

The practice of self awareness also requires balance. We need to assess which stories we use and why; when they work for us and when they outlive their usefulness.