About this article:
The Other Title is a reflection on what it truly feels like to toggle between two (or more) very distinct worlds. On leading a team, raising a family, and living every day in the tension between them. An honest, human essay about what it actually feels like to hold multiple important roles. The ultimate balance between the hard days and the great ones, the guilt that does not go away, and the joy that makes it worth it.
On a life spent helping others grow, and what she’s still learning about herself.
I’ve been a teacher at heart for as long as I can remember. As a little girl, I didn’t play house. I played school.
Being the youngest of three girls meant my sisters weren’t always interested in sitting through my lessons, but I had a willing classroom of Cabbage Patch dolls. I would line them up in front of my little chalkboard and illustrate whatever I was teaching, perfectly happy to have an audience, even if they couldn’t answer back.
Years later, I was the college freshman sitting in the front row, partly because I wanted my professors to know who I was. Having been a professor myself, I can tell you: that helps. But I also remember watching one of them teach and thinking, I want to do this one day. I wanted to be up there sharing something that could help people move forward.
I’ve carried a lot of titles since then: marketer, founder, professor, author, mom. A couple of clients on the side grew into Market MindShift, the company I founded about ten years ago. Along the way, I ran the business while teaching full time, earned a PhD in psychology after my MBA, and turned my dissertation into a book.
There was always something else I wanted to pursue, and I loved having reasons to keep learning. Teaching, though, held a special place in my heart because I could see what happened when someone took what we’d talked about and used it to move toward something they wanted.
Some of my favorite moments happened after class, helping students with résumés or preparing for interviews. I remember working with one student through the process of applying for an internship with a major corporation. When she got it, you would have thought the offer had come to me. I was that excited for her.
That same feeling follows me into marketing. I love the creative work, and I get so much satisfaction from showing a client’s team something new and helping them understand how to do it themselves. I joke that I’ll teach my way out of a marketing job because I want people to know how it works and how to keep learning as things change.
Years ago, I hired one of my university students who knew very little about digital marketing but was eager to learn. I knew it would mean spending a lot of time teaching and mentoring her, and now she works full time and is so talented. The student has surpassed the teacher, which is a pretty wonderful thing to be able to say.
When you love so much of what you do, it’s easy to keep making room for more. For the longest time, I wouldn’t turn down a class, a speaking event, or a client, partly because I worried there wouldn’t be another opportunity if I said no.
There was a period when I was managing at a marketing agency, teaching part time, and traveling a lot. My team, my students, and my sons all needed me, and I felt overwhelmed trying to decide who got my time. My boys were the highest priority, so I paused teaching for a while and cut back on travel. I knew I wouldn’t regret those changes in the long run; I would regret not having time with my sons.
It helped, although saying no is still something I have to practice. The years have shown me that another opportunity can come along, and that accepting everything isn’t good for my family, my employees, or my mental health.
I’m also reconsidering what I expect from myself. For years, if I had time to relax, I felt there must be something I should be doing. Between early mornings and weekends, I found hours for the next project, the next degree, the next book. Eventually, I started wondering whether all I was becoming was the next thing I was trying to accomplish.
These days, I’m trying to let three things on a list be enough. At first, even those three things were huge, so I’m learning that something small can count, too. Sometimes things take longer, which goes against so much of how I’ve always operated. I’m still working on letting that be okay.
My boys are finding their own way now. My oldest is studying international business in Tokyo, a possibility I once thought a visit might get out of his system. Then we arrived, and I thought, Oh, shoot. It’s pretty amazing. Now he comes to me about internships and his future, and I love that Mom is still someone he can turn to.
My youngest wants to be a music teacher. I can’t take credit for his musical ability, but I’m trying not to be too obvious about how much I love the teaching part. When he scored highly for marketing on aptitude tests, I’d say, “See, it’s in your blood.” His response was basically, “Yeah, no.”
I love watching them discover who they want to become while I’m still learning how much to ask of myself.
Teacher at heart. Student of myself.