Austin Powers would be jealous of my mad driving skillz

Yep, it was pretty much exactly like this. 

My program doesn't have classes on Fridays (just because I don't teach on Fridays doesn't mean I'm not working!) but we do have a couple of Friday field trips every session. We've been to many interesting - and some not as interesting - places that Atlanta has to offer: the Atlanta History Center is a favorite, while the Southern Locomotive Museum was not as big a hit. Go figure.

Yesterday we went downtown to the High Museum which is currently hosting an exhibition of modern art on loan from MoMA. It was great: Picasso, Pollack, Matisse, Warhol. I'm not as much into Duchamp and Dadaism, but it was cool opportunity to see art that I wouldn't otherwise have a chance to.

I love these field trips. It's so fun to see our students interact with "regular" people. I love talking with them outside of class, when there's a lot less pressure to focus on instruction and more time to get to know them on a more personal level. I enjoy getting away from routine and seeing new things, or seeing old things with new eyes.

But it's not all a big love fest, people. Because there's something about field trip days that stresses me out: for field trips, I have to drive a 15 passenger van.

Some of you right now are laughing at me. Some of you are thinking, "Yadda, yadda, yadda, I was born driving a 15 passenger van." Whatever. I am not you.

Yesterday started off well. In fact, there was good news; some of the students who signed up for the field trip were no-shows, so I was downgraded to the 11 passenger. Hallelujah! We drove downtown with no problems, and once we arrived at the parking garage I was directed to a nice, easy spot that was conveniently marked "Oversized Vehicles." That's me! Oversized and proud!

So where was the problem? Well, let's just say that my exit from the garage wasn't as graceful as it possibly could have been. In my defense, the concrete wall came out of NOWHERE. (No vehicles or students were harmed in the making of this blog post.) At one point I had the parking attendant, three Saudi men, and my boss yelling out directions at me - "Cut it hard left!" "No, THIS way!" "Reverse!" - while the two Chinese women were covering their eyes in fear. I was tempted to join them.

Side mirrors were folded in and orange cones moved around. I eventually got out, embarrassed and chagrined. As I passed the parking attendant, I thanked her and told her my normal car was a Toyota.

The drive back to campus was uneventful, and on the trip I came to a realization: I don't have to be good at everything. I really, really don't. It's OK that I don't drive large vehicles with expert precision, since I have no plans to either become a commercial truck driver or give birth to 20 children a la the Duggar clan. I shouldn't feel like less of a person because I needed some help - OK, sure, it was a lot of help - backing out of a parking space. I don't need to be defensive about this. I'm secure in what I can do, and life is not a competition. It truly isn't, so I need to stop thinking that it is. I can be good at what I'm good at, and you can be good at what you're good at, and neither one of us needs to feel bad or be jealous or, worst of all, insult the other in order to make ourselves feel better.

It's not a zero sum game.

That's enough Saturday morning pontificating for me. I'm off to grade essays and run errands. Take delight in what you're good at today, and for the things that you struggle with, ask yourself if you need to be good at them anyway. You probably don't. I promise.