Adapt and Evolve

"Remember that in every single case in history the process of adaptation has been one of exceeding slowness. Do not look for the impossible, but do not let your path deviate from the quiet and steadfast insistence on full opportunities for your powers." Franz Boas



Already I am making changes to this site. While previewing the blog I found myself having difficulty reading the text. Having a blog about brain injury that brain injured people can't read seemed counterproductive, so I adjusted the font size and some colors. I think it's better now, but welcome comments and suggestions.



Slow adaptation and evolution is one of the things I need to work on. I am not a "let's give it some time and see how it goes" person. I prefer to reveal the finished product, gleaming, new and perfect and let my trials and false starts remain safely tucked behind the scenes. Yes, I am one of those artists who doesn't like people to see their "works in progress".



This blog, heck, this whole year, is a work in progress.



This is one of the double edged swords of my MTBI. While on one hand is it, largely, an invisible injury, on the other hand I find it very difficult to have what I often feel are obvious symptoms. Perhaps I should phrase that differently. What I have are not obvious symptoms, except to me. What I have are difficulties; difficulties that I never had before.



I used to teach English and Speech at a local community college. When I went back to work after the accident, it was mortifying to stand up in front of the class and "lose" a word, or forget what I had said during the last class, or completely lose my train of thought. It's hard enough teaching an uninterested bunch of 13th graders, struggling while you're doing it is simply inelegant. Besides, any show of weakness tends to arouse the predatory instincts in groups of older teenagers. At times I felt like a wounded wildebeest facing a room full of hyenas.



In reality, most people probably never even knew I had a problem. Sure, I was suddenly the absent-minded professor and I'd like to think that students who'd taken my classes "before" would have noticed a difference, but, honestly, I knew I wasn't that much worse than most of the community college professorial pool. My student evaluations were consistently positive but I knew that I had changed. I didn't get into the zone anymore. The connections that came easily before suddenly weren't there.



I've since changed the classes that I teach. No more English, now I teach Speech and the occasional Drama class. While it would seem like teaching Speech would be more difficult than teaching English, it's not so. Speech classes mean lots of students speaking. English classes are more like that scene from "Ferris Beuller's Day Off" where Ben Stein stands in front of the catatonic class droning on and on, "Beuller? Beuller? Beuller?" English classes call for the full-on floor show. Teaching a Speech class means I get to sit in the back and listen to dozens of students try to persuade me to legalize marijuana. Believe me, it's easier than reading 24 research papers about why we should all smoke pot.



So I'm trying to be more comfortable with the process. This entire project is about letting people see me sweat through some of these challenges. You all get ring-side seats from my screw-ups and failings. Hopefully I will also adapt and evolve.



"You have to go through the falling down in order to learn to walk. It helps to know that you can survive it. That's an education in itself." Carol Burnett