Getting Comfortable with being Uncomfortable
This term, I am only taking one course that is specifically related to MPH- Health Promotion, and that would be my Proposal Writing/Program Planning course (which, yes, could easily be two courses, but I am not the program director, so it's not). Anyway, as a former Program Manager who often had my hands in the grant writing process, this course is somewhat familiar territory for me. In addition to that class, I am also taking Healthy Policy Analysis and Gender, Ethnicity and Culture (an anthropology course).
Now, while Health Policy Analysis is a public health class, it's specifically geared toward Health Management and Policy students (not Health Promotion students, like myself). The first day, we went over how bills become laws-- my knowledge of which was about as good as my recollection of Schoolhouse Rock's 'I'm just a Bill' song (i.e. not so good). Then there's anthropology. As I lamented to my cohort the other day "I just don't speak anthropology!!!" Bottom line: in both of these classes, I pretty much feel like a deer in the headlights. As my luck would have it, both classes rely heavily on participation. So, every week (thank God each one only meets once a week) I brace myself for 2-3 hours of sheer fear and trepidation, trying to find something constructive to say that will not make me look like a complete fool. It's terrifying.
And yet, it may be the healthiest thing I have done in a really, really long time. There's something we would talk about when I was out in the professional world, and it came up in my Community Org class term. That thing would be what we label 'the silo effect.' Meaning, essentially, that like we all did in high school with our clique of friends, we silo ourselves professionally. Food bankers like meeting with fellow food bankers. Professors like collaborating with other professors. Researchers like to work with other researchers. Which is why I think the idea of coalition building has become almost an essential part of grant proposals these days--the world NEEDS us to get out of our comfort zone and talk to each other! Even if you literally feel like you're speaking a different language sometimes.
Lest we think I'm on my soap box here, I'm just as guilty of it as anyone else. Collaboration is hard--it's so much easier to get things done when we all come from same the world, right?? The entire department I work for is taking a little fieldtrip up to the Clark County Food Bank this week in Vancouver and I am SO excited, because food banking is something that I get. More than I get day camps, research, nutrition, and gardening, and the other components of my job (which I certainly enjoy, I'm just still learning!) I also have to confess that though I do consider it a major personal stretch just to be present in these classes, I am still writing my policy brief on food insecurity and my anthro research paper on how big agribusiness has fundamentally changed our relationship to food, and subsequently, impacted our health in a profound (ahem--negative) way. I think we can still incorporate our areas of expertise in areas where we might feel a little lost. I guess what I'm arguing for is getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. As a professor of mine wisely said last term, if you want to be really good at what you do, you need to know a lot about one thing, and a little bit about everything.
So, let's all get out of our comfy boxes and stretch ourselves a little bit. It can be scary as hell, but I promise that it's worth it.
Now, while Health Policy Analysis is a public health class, it's specifically geared toward Health Management and Policy students (not Health Promotion students, like myself). The first day, we went over how bills become laws-- my knowledge of which was about as good as my recollection of Schoolhouse Rock's 'I'm just a Bill' song (i.e. not so good). Then there's anthropology. As I lamented to my cohort the other day "I just don't speak anthropology!!!" Bottom line: in both of these classes, I pretty much feel like a deer in the headlights. As my luck would have it, both classes rely heavily on participation. So, every week (thank God each one only meets once a week) I brace myself for 2-3 hours of sheer fear and trepidation, trying to find something constructive to say that will not make me look like a complete fool. It's terrifying.
And yet, it may be the healthiest thing I have done in a really, really long time. There's something we would talk about when I was out in the professional world, and it came up in my Community Org class term. That thing would be what we label 'the silo effect.' Meaning, essentially, that like we all did in high school with our clique of friends, we silo ourselves professionally. Food bankers like meeting with fellow food bankers. Professors like collaborating with other professors. Researchers like to work with other researchers. Which is why I think the idea of coalition building has become almost an essential part of grant proposals these days--the world NEEDS us to get out of our comfort zone and talk to each other! Even if you literally feel like you're speaking a different language sometimes.
Lest we think I'm on my soap box here, I'm just as guilty of it as anyone else. Collaboration is hard--it's so much easier to get things done when we all come from same the world, right?? The entire department I work for is taking a little fieldtrip up to the Clark County Food Bank this week in Vancouver and I am SO excited, because food banking is something that I get. More than I get day camps, research, nutrition, and gardening, and the other components of my job (which I certainly enjoy, I'm just still learning!) I also have to confess that though I do consider it a major personal stretch just to be present in these classes, I am still writing my policy brief on food insecurity and my anthro research paper on how big agribusiness has fundamentally changed our relationship to food, and subsequently, impacted our health in a profound (ahem--negative) way. I think we can still incorporate our areas of expertise in areas where we might feel a little lost. I guess what I'm arguing for is getting comfortable with being uncomfortable. As a professor of mine wisely said last term, if you want to be really good at what you do, you need to know a lot about one thing, and a little bit about everything.
So, let's all get out of our comfy boxes and stretch ourselves a little bit. It can be scary as hell, but I promise that it's worth it.
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