When my classes didn’t run at the World Needlework Convention last year, I was absolutely humiliated that so many other classes did (some even sold out) yet mine didn’t.
I felt honoured that I/my classes were chosen to be in the program as I don’t feel like I have the credentials. I wasn’t trained at the Royal School of Needlework – I’m just a self-taught girl from Australia. I don’t do “popular” forms of embroidery – mine often looks intimidating and therefore fewer people choose do it.
At a Sydney craft show someone said, “I’m going to the World Needlework Convention, but I’m not doing one of your classes because I can do one with you any time.” As I already knew it was unlikely that I would be going, it felt like she was sticking the knife in and twisting it! I don’t teach a lot, and I’m of the opinion that if the opportunity presents itself for something you want to do, grab it with both hands because it may not be offered again!
I probably present as an amazing, capable woman who has written multiple books, taught domestically and internationally, while (for those of you who know me and my family personally) sharing in the raising of two delightful and admirable young women.
But inside, I feel like I don’t measure up. People say nice things but I don’t believe them. Instead I believe “you’re not good enough because people didn’t want to do your classes at the conference.” (It’s happened more than once. Again, humiliating.)
I’m working on changing the self-talk but it’s so hard when you have believed for so long that you’re not good enough.
I’ve learned that whenever one large guild surveys their members on who they’d like as a teacher, my name repeatedly comes up. Yet, they’ve never invited me. Old me says, “yeah, you’re not good enough.” New me acknowledges I have no idea of their reason for not inviting me. I can’t read their minds.
Others can say 20 million lovely things, yet it’s the one negative thing that we will hear. If you’re like me and you struggle with feeling like you don’t measure up, let me gently say, “try to believe the evidence otherwise” and I will try to do this too. It’s going to take some time for me to learn to believe it.
Oh gosh, yes! I’ll try if you will.
And let me tell you, your instructions are so clear that I’ve been recommending your Embroiderers Companion to all and sundry, when they ask about stitch dictionaries!
Thanks Rachel. I am so very grateful for your support. My best wishes to you as you try to take those thoughts captive as well. xx
No, you are not alone!
I have to wonder if the guild situation is a case of either “she’ll always be available” or they assume someone who has put out as many fantastic books as you have would be beyond their finances or are already booked up. But yes, very odd that they don’t even inquire.
As far as who’s offered teaching spots at the conventions, I have no clue, but *highly* doubt it’s that you are not formally trained. My bet is they are focused solely on who they hope will draw the most attendees. It’s probably not easy – one year people want the current hot technique and the next year they want techniques that not everyone is doing. The technique that was so hot when they are booking teachers suddenly goes cold by the time people need to sign up.
Thanks Gail. I hope that my year of illness (so far!) has shown everyone just how untrue the “She’ll always be available” idea is!
I don’t think the convention organiser selections are affected by my lack of formal training, but I do wonder if the student selections may be. I know that “trained at the Royal School of Needlework” holds great weight for some people, and it’s something I can never claim.
The class selections by the organising committee are affected by a great many things. $$ is the main one, I am sure, because I have to be brought in from the ends of the earth in Australia! Also, when bringing me in to another country, if there’s a local teacher teaching the same thing, they’re going to get the work, not me. So I have to hit on a magical formula for my submissions to get everything *just right* in order to be selected. And in all honesty, my techniques are never those “popular” techniques!
I’m guilty of not signing up for a class with you for London last year. I would have been thrilled to meet you, but I was not afraid of not being able to complete my Friesian Whitework pillow because your books are wonderful! I’m almost ready to start cutting for the open work. I went with two techniques I haven’t seen available in books, and even with the in-person classes I’m not sure I will be able to complete the projects. I’m afraid you have to complete with your very excellent books.
Thank you Jane. I really appreciate hearing from you. I guess I do have to compete with my books, but there will always be those who prefer to learn from classes than from books. I hope you had a magnificent time at the conference.
My [devil’s advocate] thought is that perhaps you should have chosen a class with me after all, as then you may have had the confidence to complete your class project… 😉 My much more magnanimous thought is that I hope you will regain your confidence in those chosen techniques and you will be able to complete the projects. All the best and I really am grateful to hear from you!
In my book, you are *THE* expert on Hardanger. Formal training has no bearing on it whatsoever (maybe because I’m American–RSN training isn’t a thing here). One of the reasons I chose NOT to attend the World Needlework Convention is that yours was the only class I *was* interested in. For what it’s worth, I own and enjoy two of your books, and if my family doesn’t get me your new Hardanger book for Christmas, I’ll get it for myself.
Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate your kind words.