Realness > Toxic Professionalism
Peeling silly at a recent Eco-School Network retreat
As I grow my baby teaching career -- technically ten years in, but still feeling very new in many ways -- I think a lot about professionalism and how I’m developing my brand and teaching style. With a brand that shares my name, there’s a strong pull to make this venture my own: an authentic reflection of me and my personality, values, and interests. In fact, I gave it my own name as a commitment to showing up fully in this role.
But I can’t deny there’s a simultaneous, opposite pull towards presenting “like a professional,” and tonight while learning about the local grassroots organization Making Earth Cool, I heard the term “toxic professionalism” for the first time. In my understanding, this is the idea that we can get so attached to looking and sounding “professional” -- insert your own interpretation here -- that we lose our unique flavors. Try so hard to look slick, that we end up blending in.
The consensus in the room tonight seemed to be that all the event flyers, email-speak, and materials meant to attract our audience to us have started to look a little bit the same. AI has certainly contributed to this, along with the user-friendly design software like Canva, and even this website host: the incredible ease of designing helps even the most technophobic like me to play in the game. Professional photos, design elements, animation, even videos are only a click away, mass produced and made available to everyone at every price point, including free. A few years ago I couldn’t have imagined having free access to a design tool like Canva! Or a website that actually feels accessible for me to manage! It’s wild.
It makes me think of the parallel path plastics have traveled, becoming available in the ‘50s and ‘60s, making home life feel so much easier. Tupperware? Squeeze bottles? Cups that don’t shatter when dropped? Life-changing. But now that it’s ubiquitous, polluting our oceans and choking our wildlife, we’re recognizing as a culture that easier doesn’t always mean better.
The old ways are becoming new again: making our own bread, growing our own food, sewing and repairing. The plastic water bottles we once marveled at (remember the unmatched elegance of Evian?? Ooh!) have not only lost their magic; they’re now a burden and a menace to our environment.
As a massage instructor, as with massage therapy, professionalism is imperative. It’s a vital part of our role to project:
trustworthiness,
competence,
client-centered service,
knowledge,
and reliability.
These are non-negotiables, and rightly so.
And, this conversation reminded me that there’s also room for:
personality,
humanity,
realness,
a sense of humor, and
creative expression of ourselves and our work.
In fact, the mix of professionalism and authenticity is actually what brings clients back again and again. They love you, dear LMT, because of your quirks, not despite them!
We can’t deny that AI robots are here, in both the massage therapy field -- ack! -- and the teaching field. I once paid good money for a CE class that featured a completely fake-looking, AI-created video with a robot voiceover. It was easily the worst class I’ve ever sat through: soulless, devoid of any warmth or connection, wholly off-putting. If I had known what it was like when I’d signed up, I would never have thought twice about it.
We can do so much better by sharing our real selves. My real intent with teaching is to build connections. That’s what makes my heart sing.
When I meet someone from my hometown in a class, and we talk story and compare favorite plate lunch spots.
When I see a student who’s already taken a different class from me and came back for more!
When a lesson clicks with someone and I get to witness their aha moment, and how it affects everyone else in the room.
Those moments of connection are everything. They change what’s possible. I’m hooked.
I’m working to kick my perfectionism to the curb and show up as my messy, imperfect, goofy, truest self with you.
Some ways I’m doing that so far:
Playing my favorite comfort playlist during class pauses
Being open about not knowing all the answers. Got a stumper? I’ll gladly acknowledge it and ask the rest of the class for thoughts, or write it down to research later.
Cute stickers for all at the end of the self-quiz in ethics class. No matter how you scored, you deserve a cute sticker for your effort!
Bringing my family’s beloved Curious George stuffy as my demo body in the Head Massage class this fall, and in countless Parent-Child Massage Workshops in the past.
Opting for comfy shoes when I know I’ll be standing at the front of a classroom for an 8-hour day. Sorry cute shoes: I gotta be me, for me, and comfort wins every time.
Creating recycled nametags for classes. Those typed-out, clip-on plastic badges are the more “professional” option, sure. But once I figured out how I can care for the earth while getting people’s names right, I haven’t looked back.
I’m always looking for ways to make classes personal, with a level of shared vulnerability -- stretching outside our comfort zones just a bit -- to encourage meaningful learning. I’m thankful to have learned the term “toxic professionalism” -- thanks Eco-School Network and Making Earth Cool! -- so I can name the sterile, too-serious vibe I don’t want.
Keep an eye out for more of me to show up in classes. I’m always practicing being brave enough to be fully myself. It’s a work in progress.
And if you have ideas for other ways to bring more fun and creativity into teaching CEs, I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment below!
