Posted in Video
Everything Else is Gravy
Why we need mere competence, not excellence.
It’s funny: when I get ranty, I reach for video, rather than trying to type out my thoughts.
Today’s article is no exception…
Transcript
I’ve had this quote on my mind for a while now. It’s a quote by Naomi Dunford from IttyBiz.com and she says:
“Having room to improve is different from doing it wrong.”
And I wanted to share this quote with you because I’ve seen a trend lately among dancers. I’ve seen it in my coaching students, on message boards, on Facebook, and I’ve even recognized it in myself.
Talented dancers who have a lot to offer often think that they suck.
So instead of valuing their competence, they end up torturing themselves about what they don’t know yet.
They compare themselves against world-class dancers and they think that, just because they’re not there yet, they’re terrible dancers and terrible people.
And this is a problem.
You’d think that having high standards would be a good thing, but that’s just not working out that way.
For one thing, it feels like crap.
You feel terrible about yourself and you’re constantly worrying about whether you’re good enough and this really impairs your performance. You can’t be your most exuberant, creative, entertaining self when you’re worried about whether your performance is good enough.
And this can lead you to also lose out on a lot of learning opportunities.
The problem with this is that a lot of what you need to know to become a great performer is stuff that you learn on the dance floor. Things like working a crowd, learning how to handle your mistakes gracefully, or collaborating with a band are things that are very hard to learn in class. You really need to get out there and do it.
So, if you find yourself waiting to sign up for that student night at the restaurant until you can do seven layers while balancing a sword, you’re going to be missing out on all of that important learning. And so this is really counterproductive. When you fail to give yourself credit for your competence, you make it harder to progress beyond that point.
So, why don’t we give ourselves credit for our competence?
I think that there are two reasons.
One is the impostor syndrome, a psychological phenomenon that was first observed among graduate students. And that’s that the people who are the most competent are the most likely to undervalue their own skills. When people were interviewed about this phenomenon, the common thread was: “Well, if I know this it really can’t be that hard. Everybody else must know it too.”
And this turns us into perfectionists. It makes us think that if our performance isn’t flawless, then it has no value. And that’s not true.
I think the other reason why we don’t give ourselves credit for our competence is the push in the dance community against the one-year wonders.
Now, I’m not saying that this is a bad thing. Our community has very rightly upheld its professional standards. But the problem with this is that when we focus on not taking things too far too quickly, we prime those dancers who are ready with those perfectionist tendencies to take it too far.
So, instead of hearing: “Yes, it’s important to learn and be competent,” they hear: “Well, if I’m not the very best world-class dancer, then I shouldn’t be dancing at all.”
And that’s a real problem.
So, what can we do about this?
The first thing is to be aware that skill isn’t a black and white issue. It’s not something that you have or don’t have. It’s a spectrum, and there’s a whole range of skills from merely competent to excellent to world class. And no matter where you are on that spectrum, you’re in a respectable position.
Now, accepting that is easier said than done, so I’d like you to try this. The first thing to do is to write your job description, so think of a specific activity that you do as a dancer. This might be giving bellygrams, teaching, giving workshops, or if you’re earlier in your dance journey, it might just be doing a student hafla. Then ask yourself: “For this particular event, what’s your job? What are you expected to do and to accomplish?” So, if you’re giving a belly gram for Uncle Bob’s birthday, your job is to get the guests into a party mood and make Uncle Bob feel special.
Everything else is gravy.
And you may have other goals. You may want to improve the audience’s opinion of belly dance or do other things. But that’s not your job for this event. It’s gravy.
So then you need to ask yourself: “What does it take to deliver on that job, and only that?”
In this example, for Uncle Bob’s birthday, you need competent technique, decent musicality, good audience interaction skills, a basic knowledge of what your audience expects, professional behavior, and that’s really it.
Everything else is gravy, no matter what it might be.
And so, when it comes to evaluating your competence, all you need to do is ask: “Can you deliver on that job and only those things competently?”
Not perfectly. Not brilliantly. Competently.
Now, you may not be sure, and that’s okay. That just means that you need to get some feedback. Depending on your dance community, you may or may not be able to get that from your peers. Sometimes your community may be unusually competitive or it may be one of those walking on eggshells communities, where everybody’s really hesitant to give you their honest opinion.
And if that’s the case, what you really need is a mentor. This is someone whose taste you trust, someone who you know will recognize whether you need work, and it needs to be someone whose honesty you trust. Someone that you know, where if they tell you you’re doing a good job, you can believe that. And also make sure that when you approach your mentor about this that they understand that you’re asking whether you’re competent, not where you can improve.
And if you go for this evaluation process and you can say, “Yes, I’m competent. Maybe just barely, but I am competent,” then it’s time to stop beating yourself up.
Really.
Now, you’re the boss of your own dance, and I don’t like to tell you what to do. I like to give you tools and leave it up to you to decide what you want to do with them.
But in this case, if you’re beating yourself up because you’re not world class yet, I forbid it. I forbid you to do that, because anything else – anything beyond the bare necessities to do your job – is gravy. And it’s not in your interests to beat yourself up over anything else.
And if you’re not competent yet, I don’t want you to beat yourself up about that either.
Just take a step back and work your way up, and you’ll get there. Really.
Now, I’m not saying that it’s okay to be complacent. There will always be more to learn. Whether it’s about digging deeper into your style, learning about other styles, learning about music or culture or history, there will always be more, and so continuing education is really important.
What I want you to understand is that it’s not productive to approach that continuing education from a place of fear. If you’re thinking: “I must master this before everyone discovers that I’m a fraud,” you’re not going to learn very well. You’re not going to get towards your goal and you’re going to feel like crap along the way.
So, instead, I want you to approach that from a place of love. I want you think: “This dance is so rich and it has so many facets, and I can’t wait to discover this one.”
So where do you go from here?
First off, if you’re a teacher, I have a special charge for you. I want you to keep talking to your students about professional standards. Make sure that they know what’s expected and what ethical behavior in your community is. But I also want you to make sure that they understand that there’s a whole spectrum from competent to world class.
And when you set goals for your students, especially those who are getting into the advanced to professional threshold range, I want you to focus on competence. Mere competence. Make sure that they understand that that’s the benchmark that they need to reach first. And when they get there, tell them. Don’t let them wonder.
This will also help prevent one-year wonders because, if your students trust that you’ll tell them when they get there, they won’t think that they are there before they actually are.
And for all of those out there who are dealing with impostor syndrome, the very best thing you can do is to follow that job description process. So, pick just one activity that you do as a dancer, write your job description for that, and evaluate yourself. And if you find that you’re even just barely competent, I want you to celebrate. Appreciate your competence and what you already have. It’s okay to set goals for the next stand in your development, but before you do that make sure that you really appreciate where you are now. That will let you approach that improvement process from a place of love and a place of excitement.
Because you may have room to improve, but you’re not doing it wrong.
Your Turn
Do you disagree?
Have you ever suffered from “impostor syndrome”?
What has helped you value your competence?
Share your thoughts in the comments.