By Stephanie J. Gates, Fellow
“Yes, I am afraid, but I push through my fears. Because you know what? I’m braver than I know. And so are you. We will face our fears and be brave together.”
-Stephanie J. Gates
I’m a scary Mary. At least that’s what I’ve told myself over the years. I’ve never really liked scary movies, but I’d always let my sister talk me into watching scary movies with her. She was a chicken, too, but she liked being scared; I didn’t. I’d sit there and miss most of the movie because I was watching through the slits of my fingers.
Strangely enough, I’ve seen both of Jordan Peele’s movies, Get Out and Us. Go figure. Maybe I’m not as big a chicken as I think.
My early driving experiences were terrible, so I feared driving for a long time. Add in that I’m directionally challenged, and you can understand why driving is not my favorite past time. I don’t know about anybody else, but everything looks different to me at night which adds another dimension to driving.
Living in Chicago, you can take Halsted, Ashland or Western and get anywhere in the city without having to get on the expressway. So, for years, these streets were my besties. Over time, I got used to the expressway, but only for short distances. I have a two-hour time limit behind the wheel.
Even though I don’t love driving, I do like to be on the move. And if I can’t find somebody to go with me, I’ll go alone. I have had to come face-to-face with my fear of driving because a few years ago I began traveling to nearby cities to present at conferences. Public speaking is also a fear that I’ve wrestled with over the years. So I’m learning to push past fear in various situations — something I had to do when I became a Courageous Conversations Fellow.
Growing tired of surface-only experiences around race and equity, I wanted to do more than just dip my toe in the murky waters of race. A woman that I know from Facebook saw an article on the Courageous Conversations happening in Barrington and she sent it to me. I was curious, so I reached out to Jessica Green, and we had a good conversation.
I signed up and was on the waitlist for the Krista Tippett kick-off in May. Then I received an email that I had a ticket, only to find out that I had a scheduling conflict, so I couldn’t make it. I still planned on attending some of the conversations and even talked to a few folks about it.
I had googled how long it would take me to get to Barrington, and the drive was within my two-hour time limit. Whew-Hoo!
Then I got an email for the Fellowship which would give me an opportunity to submerge myself in conversations around race, equity and privilege. I applied. I was accepted. I was excited. And scared! I had put my wish into the Universe, and the Universe responded with a resounding YES! I was going to get what I asked for. Was I ready? I didn’t know, but I was about to find out.
September 11. The first night. A night to remember for sure. I arrive safely only to have to seek shelter in the basement of Barrington’s White House when the tornado sirens go off.
My imagination kicks into high gear. This is not where I want to die. Do I need to text my family and tell them I’m in a basement in Barrington? If I text them, I might scare them. No. Wait this out. I’m having this whole conversation inside my head while trying to make small talk with a bunch of white people I don’t know. I saw Get Out. Twice. My imagination is in overdrive. I remember to breathe. I chat with a few people and before I know it, we are back upstairs.
Dr. Arin Reeves is speaking on conditioned fear and there is a white mouse running around on the slide in her presentation. Rodents make my flesh crawl — especially mice. There is a guy sitting in front of me with a good-sized head, so I position myself in such away that he blocks the critter from my view. Another fear faced down (not really, but hey I don’t run out of the room).
The night ends. I had come into a strange place and it was ok. The only thing left for me to do is get home safely. It was light when I started out, but dark when I leave. I take a few deep breaths, buckle up, and pray away the rain. I still have one more hurdle. I have to get home, so I turn on the oldies radio station. The songs bring back warm memories from my childhood. I sing along to calm my nerves.
As I replay Dr. Reeves’ message and the events from the evening, I realize that I may not be such a scaredy cat after all. I make it home, and I’m elated! I am growing and stretching myself.
It’s time to retire the Scary Mary narrative because I’ve proven time and time again, that yes, I am afraid, but I push through my fears. Because you know what? I’m braver than I know. And so are you. We will face our fears and be brave together.
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Stephanie J. Gates is a Fellow of A Year of Courageous Conversations to explore how to foster greater inclusion and belonging in our communities. The series is presented by Urban Consulate at Barrington’s White House in Barrington, Illinois. To read more, visit CourageousConversations.us.
(Photo Credits: Christina Noël and Linda M. Barrett)