Umpiring and Teaching

Recently I was asked at the last minute to umpire a Little League game when the regularly-scheduled umpire backed out. On the one hand, this was a not-unreasonable request. I manage a team, and help organize one of the divisions in the league. On the other hand, I’d never umped before, and indeed, never played the game. Plus, I don’t have gear. Everyone involved assured me it wouldn’t matter, as baseball’s most arcane rules don’t apply at our level, and I could call the game from behind the mound.

Everyone survived, reputations largely intact, but I spent the entire two hours having flashbacks of the first few years times I taught. While this struck me as odd at the time, I soon realized that the problem was one of my least-favorite nemeses: imposter syndrome. That helped me think concretely about the things that I was anxious about, and the actual facts on the ground:

• Concern: “I don’t know enough to do this.” Reality: No matter how little you know, it’s probably enough. That’s true for three reasons. You’re probably selling yourself short. You underestimate how much accumulated experience matters. In the baseball context, even though I hadn’t played, I’d obviously seen about three decades worth of games more than these players. New teachers may well be a bit closer in age to their students, but they also have significantly more experience in their discipline.
• Concern: “They won’t listen to me.” Reality: Status matters. If you’re the ump, all you have to do is make the call–ball or strike, fair or foul, safe or out. Players are also thinking about hitting, pitching, catching, running, and getting into position, not to mention the quality of the postgame snack. In general, they’re going to listen. There’s a comparable dynamic in teaching, as most students are juggling lots of questions and concerns–did I do well on the exam last class? Did the bursar mail my financial aid check? Will the cafeteria have a vegan option today? Most students will respect teachers by a kind of grateful default. (Important qualifier: obviously, stereotypical assumptions about race/gender/class/sexual identity/other creep in here.)
• Concern: “I’m just a stand-in, and don’t really count.” Reality: If you are in the position, you have the job. While the coaches knew I was a fill-in, almost none of the players did. Similarly in teaching: The vast majority of students have no idea whether they’re being taught by a contingent faculty member or a named chair.
• Concern: “What if I get something wrong? It’ll all be over.” Reality: People usually are pretty understanding. In the baseball game, I probably blew at least one call, and there were some others that might’ve been borderline. In the classroom, there have been plenty of times when I’ve gotten confused about what the next reading is, say, or overconfidently misremembered a date in answer a question off the cuff. Don’t double down on the mistake by exaggerating your certainty, and you’ll get through it.
• Concern: “Why do they look confused/angry? They’re probably talking trash about me.” Reality: In my case, at least, the problem is probably that they can’t hear you. There are many situations in which a calm, soft speaking voice is an advantage. Umpiring’s definitely not one–the players can hear you, but the coaches might not. Similarly in teaching: If you’re giving instructions, you need to be able to deliver them crisply, clearly, and once.
• Concern: “What if I . . . ?” Reality: It’s not about you. When you’re umpiring, especially in Little League, *no one* cares about you. The players want to play, the coaches want their team to get better, and the parents want their kids to get big-league contracts. (Kidding, sort of, about the last.) While good teachers can make a difference, ultimately what one wants is for the students to know the material, not your own quirks.

When I started out teaching, it was hard for me to think of classroom exchanges except as highly-charged, personal dramas. I was, that is, confusing “taking things personally” with “caring.” Gradually letting go of that has helped my anxiety about teaching considerably.

In an earlier ProfHacker post, Natalie suggested Thinking Like a Creator” to combat self-doubt, and I’ve been known to suggest faking it. How do you battle imposter syndrome?

[Image by Flickr user mwlguide / Creative Commons licensed]