You're not going to believe this...

Confessions of a wallflower
Charter Oak-Ute NEWSpaper — Schleswig Leader, Thursday, May 3, 2007 – Page 3

You're not going to believe this, but I have a terrible problem with shyness. If you know me you're having a hard time believing it because I've got such a big mouth. But don't confuse being over opinionated and often overbearing with being extroverted.

How can you be shy? You have to stand in front of classrooms full of students and teach them all day. What can I tell you, it's unnatural. It's also one thing to be an adult in front of a bunch of teenagers, but it's quite another to be in front of their parents, your colleagues, or administrators.

I like to imagine that all writers are shy. That's because its easier to relate to a keyboard and computer screen that to other people. I've known many an artist who was infinitely more comfortable with their sketchbook than with human company.

One of the most awkward times in life for shy people is high school. I had cartoons and occasional stories running in my high school newspaper since sophomore year, but my shyness was truly put to the test my senior year. That's when I was drafted into being the Editor. I hadn't applied, like any self respecting shy person, I was content being a contributor. But the only applicants were escaped mental patients so the journalism advisor and the outgoing student editor laid a heaping guilt trip on me that included a heavy mantle of responsibility. I didn't wind up being the best editor they'd ever had, but I like to think I wasn't the worst. I missed our first issue because I made my self sick from the stress of the thing and started the school year home with walking pneumonia.

What being the editor of the school paper has to do with shyness is this; the editor wrote a regular column each issue and the advisor felt it was necessary to run columnist's pictures with their stories. Sort of like our publisher now insists in this paper. The sports editor relished this opportunity to advertise himself to all the eligible girls in our school. I wasn't as sure, but I posed with my 1920's antique Remington anyway.

The picture alone isn't what made the editor's office a shy persons' hell, it was the mini-fame that it established. A shy person can hide pretty easily in a school of 2,600 kids, unless their picture appears in the student newspaper handed out to all 2,600 kids every three weeks in homeroom.

What this meant was that absolutely everyone knew who I was while I knew almost no one. Everyone wanted to tell me what they thought of what I drew or wrote, whereas I would've been more comfortable only having to interact with my immediate circle of four or five friends.

This sort of not real fame, but higher notoriety than the general population is made even worse by the fact that I've always been terrible at trying to remember people's names, let alone placing the correct name with the right face.

"Hi Ted, how's it going?"
"Uh, um, fine, 'whats-your-name,' how're you?"

Don't you feel sorry for my kids? God help our middle daughter Ellen, I'm always calling her by either of her two other sisters' names. Maybe that's why she has the most outlandish and memorable personality of the three. It's nature's way.

People who are more comfortable with themselves and with talking and getting to know others don't understand shy people. They think we're antisocial as if we somehow selfishly want to be left alone. I suppose that's true to a degree, insofar as we'd desperately rather hide inside our comfort zones.

But shy people don't deliberately want to be rude or insensitive, we're just paralyzed by the fear of saying or doing something lame- or, as in my case, we're afraid that we're going to come off as rude and insensitive by not remembering who in the world the person is that we're talking to. When you don't remember someone's name, they tend to feel like you don't like them or don't think they're important enough to care about. But you do care about them, that is why you don't want to have to talk to them- because you don't want to accidentally offend them. So... you avoid talking to them and that doesn't just make you appear "aloof" or "elitist," it makes them feel like you don't like them or that you don't think they're important enough to care about. As you can see, it's a regular "Catch 22."

Once at a community event someone complemented me on my column. It was a huge compliment too, comparing me to a writer I have a huge amount of respect for. But what are you supposed to do with that kind of thing? I said thank you, red faced and awkward. But I didn't know how to say, "now who are you?" Especially because I was pretty sure it was someone who I should've known. I was paralyzed by shyness.

Needless to say, my wife chastised me. After all, I probably made myself look rude, aloof, or elitist and no doubt made them feel like I didn't like them or like I didn't think they were important enough to talk to. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way. And if anybody else wants to tell me that I'm not bad at this, please don't be shy.