Six seconds of my life

The woman next to me has an answer - the answer.

Excitedly, she raises her arm and her high-pitched, Fran Drescher voice rings out: "Well, this is our brain expert right here. Go ahead, tell him what you told me." Her left hand made contact with my right shoulder in an effort of encouragement and her head nodded wildly, lightly curled hair bobbing in tandem against her forehead. Yes, I told her a little about basic brain structures. Yes, I revealed to her that I majored in psychology. Yes, I told her that I once held a research assistantship with the Idaho Neurological Institute. But this was during our peer time, during our group discussion time. This wasn't during the time that I was trying to show off or stand out. This wasn't information I intended to share with thirty other adults - thirty strangers - with whom I just wanted more than anything to belong, to fit in. I just wanted to be one of them - to be like them - not to be a wild individual capable of standing up to the teacher.

But the teacher, in response to the words "expert" and "go ahead" without a raised hand, but instead with a loud and excited voice, walked three steps in the direction of our table, eyebrows raised, nose pointed at my nose. He said nothing. He merely looked. He looked at me. He expected me to speak. He expected me to share wisdom with the rest of the class, perhaps wisdom he did not already contain or wisdom that would provide him with new information or a new perspective.

As the blood rushed to my head, warming my core and flushing my cheeks it brought a rush of thought to the forefront of my mind. None of it an answer. Nothing brilliant. All of it excuses for why I should not talk.

I don't know what she's talking about. I'm no expert. I was only a psychology major. My natural emphasis was in English - that's why I am here! My assistantship was only for a summer. And I never actually saw any brains. I was stuck in a lab the whole time reading old charts and stuffy medical books. I don't want to speak out. I don't want to speak up. I don't want to show off my knowledge. I just want to fit in, to be part of the crowd today. This is inappropriate. I don't even know what she is talking about. Wait, I can't say that. I can't give him an excuse. Look at him, his eyebrows are raised. He's waiting for something from me. Is he waiting for me to say something stupid? Is he waiting for me to correct him? Is he trying to check my arrogance? My creativity? My experience? My legitimacy? I have to say something. Say it like a student. Include her in the answer. If I include her in the answer, it isn't all about me and I stand out less.

I straightened up slightly in my chair, sweating in my tank top in the ice cold room, and opened my mouth to deliver what I hoped would sound like an eloquntly prepared response.