by Kaley Riley @MrsRileyEng #BirthdayCelebration

Four years ago, I was asked by my then Head of Department/Assistant Teacher (and, one of my loveliest friends), if I would present on some of my marking ideas at The Priory Witham TeachMeet. I hesitated, and I was nervous, but I said yes. At this point, I was not very far into my teaching career, and public speaking to peers had always been something that I struggled with and wished to overcome.

Nobody really believed it when I told them how I hated public speaking.

I was the one that didn’t shut up, the loud mouth, the one that got the ‘Jonny Vegas: I’ve got a lot to say and I’m not afraid to say it’ award at her Year 11 Prom (a title that, to this day, I remain proud of.)  Along with the countless times to which I am referred to as ‘gregarious class member’ in my historical school reports). How could I possibly be afraid of talking when it is what I never stop doing? 

The day came for me to present on my profound knowledge of using highlighters to mark (I cringe a little now when I look back at how I thought this approach was so very innovative), and I began to feel the very real sensation of fear. Sitting on a round table with colleagues whom I was lucky enough to call my friends, I could feel the heat rising to my chest as the TeachMeet began. Legs shaking? Check. Can’t hold my hands still from trembling? Check. Heart thumping out of my chest? Check. My body was preparing itself for the very real threat that lay before me: a room full of peers.

There was a school hall full of teachers, school leaders and experts in their field. And there was I, a little Recently Qualified Teacher (RQT) about to tell them all how to mark their books in a more efficient, effective way.  Standing in front of a hundred other teachers, I delivered my ‘teach meet session’. I shook so much that my microphone kept hitting my chin. In addition, sweat poured down my forehead uncontrollably and my voice faltered every other second. For years, I let myself believe that it was too soon; I was not ready; I wasn’t good enough to have told all those amazing educators what to do. Who did I think I was?

I ended the session embarassed, stinking of sweat so much that my outfit that day went in the bin as the smell just never really washed out, and listening to colleagues reassure me that ‘it was great’ knowing that they had to say that, and that they didn’t really believe it.

Ever since this presentation, speaking to a whole staff body or – actually- any group of adults on any topic, has terrified me. The gremlins got me that day, even though I didn’t know I harboured any, and only a few years later did I realise that this was a symptom of my – not yet diagnosed -anxiety: my imposter syndrome that stems right back to the traumatic years of bullying I experienced as a child.

Fast forward to 2019, and my very first unconference for #WomenEd (Helena Marsh, @HelenaMarsh81 mostly) which made me realise that keeping such gremlins was normal. And from that day forwards, I vowed – via the #10percentbraverpledge- that I would confront my fear head on every single time. I would become one of the inspirational people that I watched that day: Helena Marsh, Jill Berry, Emma Turner et al. I wanted to be more like them, and less like the RQT me who let her perception of what people thought of her, control her.

Since that inspirational day, I have spoken at a number of events and delivered a number of presentations. Was I nervous? God yes. Did I let the nerves control me and allow the gremlins to eat away and tell me I’m not good enough? No, because they are wrong.

Tonight, I popped my child in bed, and my gremlins in their cage, and I presented to my largest audience yet!  300+ participants at @WomenEdEM # Lead Meet, organised by my wonderful friends and colleagues Jade Hickin and Lyndsay Bawden, listened to my presentation about Remote Learning with Wellbeing at the Forefront, and I followed the likes of Jill Berry, Claire Grosvenor, Deb Outwhaite (and more incredibly inspirational women). I presented last, which is always terrifying, let alone when you’re in the company of giants!

If I compare my approach to today’s presentation with that of my first, I can tell you three things that I did differently:

• I didn’t spend hours preparing it and stressing over the content because I knew exactly what I wanted to deliver and I believed in everything that I was saying.
• I didn’t spend all day worrying about what people would think of me because I didn’t need to. I was asked to present.
• I didn’t pitch an idea, and I didn’t try to be somebody that I wasn’t. I was my most authentic self.

All of my life, I have believed (and still do, at times) that I am not good enough, in both my professional and my personal life. But being a part of the #WomenEd community really did change my outlook on all of the thoughts that previousl, consumed me.

I am good enough. I do know what I am talking about. People do value my ideas. The gremlins appear sometimes, rearing their heads and chirping about the fact that I’ll never be good enough but, like tonight, I pop them in a corner somewhere and tell them to be quiet. Because they are not who I am, and their constant chirping at me is something that I have the power and confidence to control.

Why do I do it? Why do I battle the gremlins? Because I want to show that fear,when not all consuming, is something to confront. Something to utilise as a tool for success. Fear can be a good thing, because it drives us. As Jill and Zara so beautifully presented on this evening at the #WomenEd Leadmeet, we can control that fear, and it is the things that we can control that make us so very able.

The next time you’re asked to do something and you don’t believe you’re good enough, have a word with yourself and remember: you are good enough, people want to hear your ideas (regardless of your career stage- I have learnt some of the best ideas from my NQT mentees and trainees over the years), and that the fear only exists because you care.

Thank you to the #WomenEd community for inspiring me to be 10%Braver. It is a mantra that I live my life by now, and it has honestly changed my whole approach to fear.