YOU LIKE ME, YOU REALLY LIKE ME!

I’ve got to stop whining now. I’ve been susceptible to professional jealousy for years but Friday evening provided me with the medicine I need to alleviate its nasty symptoms.

But I’ll begin on Thursday, May 7, 2009. That afternoon I got a call from my dean, Mary Jeanne Kuhar.

“I hear you’re not going to be at the Convocation tomorrow night,” she said. The Convocation is an administration-sponsored COCC event that celebrates faculty achievement with speeches by the college president and a local newsmaker followed by the presentation of the Faculty Achievement Award. This prize is like being named “Teacher of the Year”. After hearing the accolade, faculty remove their robes and enjoy a no-host bar and free dinner.

I have not been able to attend the Convocation for a few years because it often falls on a Friday night when I’m teaching. This year was no exception.

“Yeah. I work,” I told the Dean. “I sent in my RSVP no show months ago. I’ll be in Redmond.” It was the third Friday of my two weekend Public Speaking Bootcamp.

“We’d really like to see you at the Convocation. It just won’t be the same without you. I mean we really need you. Is there anything I can do to make it possible for you to be there?” Is she offering to find a substitute? To substitute for me herself? I could think of only one reason she would want me to abandon students to be at the yearly gathering. I was getting the award this year. Of course, she couldn’t tell me right out but the smile in her voice let me know.

I assured her that I would not only be there but that I would stay for dinner.

When I hung up I pumped my fist and butt-danced in my chair. “Yes, yes, yes!!!”

I spent the next few hours trying to find a substitute for Friday night. The people I trust to hear and grade twenty-four impromptu speeches – Lilli Ann Linford-Forman, Jon Bouknight, Lou Eckert and Michelle Barry-Franco – were all out of town or busy. Plus, there was the whole problem of the key exchange. So I spammed a cancellation to the class and on Friday morning called everyone who hadn’t replied to the email.

Friday I spent the day working at home and prepping for the evening. I re-dyed my hair to the strawberry blond I’m sporting these days. I went to Costco and bought a Flip video camera. On my way home from Costco, I kept thinking that I needed to go to T.J. Max. I mean, I twice turned in the direction of the Bend River Mall and turned back toward downtown then the third time I made it out to the mall. It took me 15 minutes to find a dress that matched the stiletto-heeled silver sandals I bought at DSW in Eugene last month.

When my friends Stacey Donohue and Mike Van Meter picked me up that evening, I didn’t tell them that I already knew. I couldn’t celebrate until I was officially announced. I sat near the front on the aisle so I could sit the Flip on my lap. After COCC President Jim Middleton spoke warmly about faculty while sharing budget updates and local prosecutor Mike Dugan stood in for his wife Judy Stiegler, offering us a mixed medley of personal reminiscence and praise for education, Kathy Walsh, our Vice President of Instruction started her introduction of the winner of the Faculty Achievement Award. I turned on the Flip.

Even though I knew I was the object of her encomium, I couldn’t recognize myself in her words. She always begins with a build-up, encouraging us to guess who the winner is. (Lots of folks are nominated each year.) She does this very well and I think she enjoys constructing this speech. Friday night she quoted from peer reviews and student evaluations that spoke about someone very serious and dedicated. Could Mary Jeanne have been misinformed? Could this be a moment of mistake? (Stories of mistaken walks toward the Oscar stage flooded my brain.) I couldn’t remember ever reading any of the comments I was hearing. I only remember the criticisms I’ve been given over the years.

Finally, when she got to the part about the winner having “a sense of style all her own, sartorially and in all other ways,” I knew for sure that Mary Jeanne hadn’t made a mistake. So my heart rate went up and I started to sweat, knowing that I’d have to go to the front of the room. Yes, I have TERRIBLE communication apprehension!

On my way up to the lectern, I forgot half of what I planned to say. That wasn’t a problem since I wasn’t supposed to know ahead of time anyway. I just muttered something about Rob McDilda, our dude overseeing COCC’s response to the flu hysteria, calling me that morning to tell me all my students that night had temperatures over 100 degrees and that I needed to cancel class. Then my mind went to, “Yes, dammit, finally!” But I was circumspect enough to avoid saying that out loud.

Then I got the plaque with my name on it. It’s the second one in the 24 years of the award and my name is below those of three people I really like: Michael Gesme (2006), Robert Reynolds (’07) and Stacey (’08), who was in Italy last year when she won. As you can see by these names, I’ve never doubted that the people who received the reward before me deserved it. I just felt that I’ve been around a long time (20 {expletive deleted} years), have worked hard to create a person who succeeds in the classroom, and that, well, yes, okay, by golly, I deserved to win. Perhaps that’s not a very attractive admission. But, hey! I’m human! (And I've got the X-rays to prove it!)

And almost as good as the wonderful things Kathy said about me, is the check for $2500 with the taxes already removed. The remaining two grand will buy my new dog from Seacrest Poodles as well as an outdoor kennel.

Both the VPI and our publicity guy, Ron Paradis, told me stories before dinner about why they realized so late that I wasn’t planning to attend. Something about switched paperwork and big behind-the-scenes last minute panic. It’s all good, though. If I had planned to attend I would have been surprised and wouldn’t have bought my Flip.

I had a great time at dinner, chatting with Dianna Glen, Ken Mays and his spouse, and three science guys, Eddie Johnson, Jim Moodie, and Bob Reynolds. (If you’re remembering the “Lone Gunmen” from X-Files you’d be wrong – my colleagues are all much better looking.) During the evening two folks bought me drinks, so I had Maker’s Mark on ice with my tri-tip beef stroganoff. I got lots of hugs, congratulations, several comments about my silver stilettos and the dress, and got to laugh and go “blue” with those who might appreciate it and not be offended by my love of a certain four letter word.

It was one of those rare moments when I felt like my different selves – Doc Huck, Kake, Karen, the Huckster – were able to be in the same place at the same time.

As we used to write at the end of stories for the Los Gatos High School El Gato, “A delicious meal was served and a delightful time was had by all.”