“Thank you, sir! May I have another!?”™, Day 6: And you are…?
This is Day 6 of a 21-day effort to see the good in what might, at first, look like an irredeemable drag. Its name comes from a classic bit of dialogue uttered by actor Kevin Bacon in a classic film of my generation, Animal House.

I’d never actually been to a Learning Annex class. I’d only laughed at the course catalogs and the sad pipe dreams they seemed to represent: Making Big Money; Meeting Your Perfect Mate; Mastering Photoshop.
But something about the course description forwarded to me by a friend caught my eye—”Turn your writing into a column?” Hell, I have enough writing out there and in me for a thousand columns. And it was time to monetize with the help of the experts!
When I walked up to the room, I was sure I was in the wrong place. There was some mistake. Not only did the class seem to be underway, it just didn’t look like the place where I was going to learn to monetize anything. It looked small and brightly lit and vaguely sad, like most for-rent offices in most office parks at 6:45 at night.
The instructor was great, though. Very welcoming, very passionate and fun and full of life. So I thought, Hey, I’ll play. And so, when the time came ’round for me to summarize who I was (the communicatrix!) and what I did (translate truth into various media since 1961!) I did it with passion and vigor. And was met with the stares of 50 uncomprehending eyes.
I suck at summing myself up. Me, the great translator. Me, the creator of designs and logos, the teller of tales, the relatrix of stories that keep ‘em coming back for more. I suck suck suck on the subject of me and what I do.
So I sat there for the rest of the class, egg on my face, smoldering with the shame of it all. Of being smacked down. Of listening to person after person describe—SUCCESSFULLY and SUCCINCTLY—who they were and what their column was and how it would change the world. Hell, I would read their columns; I sure as shit wouldn’t read mine. Translating truth into various media since 1961? Who the fuck gives a flying fucking rat’s fuck in hell about that, I ask you?!?
It hit me hard in that class: yes, I have some native talent and skill. Yes, I have passion and an urge to change the world. Yes, I even have (god help me) credentials of some kind. But if I don’t hunker down and get specific about it, if I can’t serve up what it is in a way that is immediately clear and compelling to people, I will struggle along with my small audience of intrepid souls and lost Googlers. (Really lost, most of them.)
Thank you, Learning Annex. Thank you, my teachers. Thank you, humiliation, for the lesson in…well, humility.
Onward.
And hey, I’m not proud: if any of you have any idea of how to sum up what it is I do, or even better, what it is you get out of these words I put out there, please.
I am all ears. (And one big head…)
xxx
c
Image by thomas_s1w via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.
TOPICS: 21 day salutes, thank you sir may i have another.





12 Comments, Comment or Ping
adam
“I suck suck suck on the subject of me and what I do.”
- me too! I have now retired from work being of a certain age but for all these years I never could explain precisely and concisely what I do/did. Even now, when folk ask me what sort of photography interests and drives me (for example), I am likely to sputter forth a string of unconnected phrases and words, wave my arms and hands a lot then tail off into silence 10 seconds or so after people have stopped listening to me. OR, I will give an eloquent and punchy summary, lasting no more than 20 seconds and be met with uneasy silence, stunned incomprehension even.
I think it is a mark of brilliance, that’s what I have convinced myself after so many years - I can see it so well and everyone else is a dummy.
Be comforted - I know how you feel!
Nov 8th, 2007
Rachel
Geez. I would have no idea how to sum up your career, but your writing is interesting and honest. By the way, getting lost on google isn’t all bad.
Nov 8th, 2007
Charles
“Who the fuck gives a flying fucking rat’s fuck in hell about that, I ask you?!?”
I love this line. I can relate because I do public relations, and while I may be schlepping for a Fortune 250 company, explaining what I actually do to people unfamiliar with communications usually leaves them yawning. Hell, it leaves me yawning.
I think in the contract writer/freelance writer world, everyone absolutely must have a brand identity. Something so easily understood that it can be conveyed in 30 seconds and leave the listener poised to ask a follow up question. Maybe the identity only usurps a fraction of what you actually do each day, but it serves as the crux, the definition, of what you’re all about at (oh my god, corporatespeak coming) the 30,000 foot level.
What is the brand identity of The Communicatrix?
Nov 8th, 2007
communicatrix
adam - Well, if I’ve got to feel like a dumbass, I may as well feel like a brilliant one. Thanks for the vote of solidarity.
Rachel - That’s a start! I still need to get at more of a “what’s in it for you” angle, but definitely a start. Thanks.
Charles - So you like the swears, too? :-)
Now…. What is the brand identity of The Communicatrix?
Yes!!! Exactly!! I want my smart readers to do the heavy lifting!!
Nov 8th, 2007
Neil
I’m curious. What exactly did you say that drew such blank looks? I’m hoping that you were joking when you wrote “Translating truth into various media since 1961?” I’m hoping…
Nov 8th, 2007
Jean Browman--Cheerful Monk
As I recall you took acting lessons once. What about getting a bit of coaching on writing? I’ve been visiting http://coachingwizardry.typepad.com/confident_writing/ . I don’t know how good she is as a coach, but she writes well and I’ve gotten some pointers from her blog. As you say, you have a lot of talent. Why not show it off to its best advantage?
Nov 8th, 2007
communicatrix
Neil - I am so not joking. So you see. I am the world’s biggest nerdiot.
Jean - Coaching is a great idea. I hadn’t thought of *writing* coaching–I’ve been focused on the marketing variety. But it is a thought.
Nov 8th, 2007
claire
I hate it when people ask me what I do/want to do. When I lived in SF, I always ended up starting, “I do work for a guy…” Not sure why I found it so hard to distill. I still flounder when people ask as I’m not clear on what I want to do, and sometimes people get all aggressive about what I used to do like it even matters anymore. They want a job/career choice to explain who I am I guess.
As for you… you conduct personal experiments to find what is widely relatable when you do your 21 day salutes, the hypnotherapy project, and the like. That covers a lot of your blogging, I’d say. Introspective musings that turn outward for broader connections.
My blog is much more all over the place by comparison.
Nov 9th, 2007
bf
You really said that? Out loud?
Nov 10th, 2007
communicatrix
claire - One of my happiest moments was, oddly enough, right after I’d quit my Real Job with its Real (and Impressive!) Title and someone asked me what I did.
It’s a badge of honor, ditching the obvious in pursuit of the less-so.
Still, gotta figger it out. It’s been too long.
But I like your definition—thank you! I’m going to put it in the hopper.
bf - Aren’t you supposed to be working?
Nov 10th, 2007