“Experience is the hardest kind of teacher. It gives you the test first and the lesson afterward.”
– Oscar Wilde
I stare at my laptop screen, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. I click “Launch Meeting” and a Zoom window opens. One by one, I watch faces and names appear in the video chat. But they aren’t the familiar faces of clients or colleagues — the ten people on this Zoom call are students enrolled in a course I’m teaching.
Me? A teacher? Since when? While I have given dozens of presentations about my work over the past few years, I have never officially “taught” anything before. But when I gave a presentation about being a full-time freelance science communicator at Science Talk last March, Allison Coffin, president of the Association of Science Communicators, asked me about the possibility of expanding my 20-minute talk into an online course.
After enthusiastically accepting Allison’s offer, I spent the past few months thinking about potential topics and content to cover. Over the past three weeks, I have finalized my lesson plans and materials. The result is a four-part course titled “Do It Yourself: Build a Career in Freelance Science Communication”. For the next month, my students and I will meet for 90 minutes every Tuesday evening to chat about experiences, resources, and advice for charting a career path as an independent science communicator.
Now it’s time for the class to start.
Imposter syndrome bubbles inside me like a pot of water on a hot stove. I deliberately turn off the heat in my mind, and remind myself that I am qualified to be in this role. I may not have taught an online class before, but I’ve been living the full-time freelancer life for the better part of five years. I know what I’m talking about.
After everyone has joined the Zoom call, we do a quick round of introductions. My students range in age and come from a variety of backgrounds, but they all share one thing in common — a keen interest in science communication. After the introductions, I talk a little bit about my career, specifically when and why I left my full-time position at the UNC Office of Research Communications, and my desire to become a successful freelancer. To make the jump from the comfort and security of a regular salary and good benefits to the volatile world of self-employment, I wanted solid advice and guidance.
So I reached out to the only full-time freelancer I knew at the time — a wedding photographer. She offered me some general advice about doing taxes and using a business credit card, but our work environments and typical clientele were worlds apart.
“I wish I could have met someone like me when I was starting my business,” I say. “And that’s why I’m teaching this course.”
During this first session, the topic is networking. I answer questions about how and when to contact people through social media. We discuss joining professional organizations, subscribing to newsletters, and navigating science conferences.
As the session winds down, I watch the clock, feeling overly aware of the fact that I’ve done 90 percent of the talking tonight.
“I hope I’m not talking too much,” I say sheepishly.
Camille Collette pipes up. “We’re here to pick your brain Marley,” she says. “Get used to talking a lot.”
Before our second class, I chat with my dear friend and colleague, Michelle Cusolito and her husband, Rick. I’m visiting them at their home in Rochester, MA and tonight I will facilitate the course from their guest house. Earlier this afternoon, I told Michelle about how the first class session went, and my insecurity about talking too much. Michelle, a former elementary school teacher, says, “you have to be comfortable with some silence. When you finish answering a question, be quiet. Wait for the students to break the silence.”
Rick has years of experience teaching online, and I ask him if he has any advice. He points out that a computer screen can never evoke the natural energy that radiates in a classroom or shared physical space.
“To be an effective online teacher, you have to bring all the energy,” he says.
Okay, so I need to bring the energy, but also shut up long enough to create space for more questions and comments. Copy that.
Talking about how to establish rates and how to create a cost estimate for potential projects during our third class session.
During the second and third sessions, I heed Rick and Michelle’s advice: infusing stories from my freelance career with my characteristic candor and a bit of humor. I get more comfortable with the inevitable pauses in conversation. I feel more relaxed, and I think my students do too. I ask them to type questions and ideas into the chat box. They ask fantastic questions that force me to think critically about my experiences. At the end of each session, I feel mentally tired yet invigorated.
As we dig into the details of website design, personal branding, social media presence, and newsletter marketing, I offer up information and approaches that I have found useful, but I also learn about additional resources from my students. After each class, I add new websites to our “Course Resources” list.
For our fourth and final session, the butterflies in my stomach reappear. During this class, titled “Real Talk” I’m asking my students to do something I find challenging: be vulnerable. Voice your insecurities. Tell me (and your classmates) what sorts of things may be holding you back.
I’m nervous because I don’t know how much the group will want to engage with these tough (and personal) prompts. So far the course material has been mostly focused on logistics and to-do lists, but now we’re talking about what really matters — being brave enough to start a new thing.
The conversation we have during the final class session flows effortlessly. In stark contrast to the first session, I spend much of it listening. I smile as each student ticks off their personal goals. Many say this course has helped them to feel more inspired and empowered. I couldn’t be happier.
Since becoming a full-time freelancer, my mentality has been: figure it out as you go. And I have taken the same approach with my first stab at teaching. As is the case with everything I do, I know I will improve as I do it more, and with each teaching experience, I will learn more about what works and what doesn’t work.
But for now, I am proud of myself for saying yes to an opportunity and jumping straight into it —despite insecurities, imposter syndrome, and all the other mental blocks that can get in the way of trying a new thing.
And I am delighted to add “teaching” to the list of verbs I use to describe my work.