I don’t want to intimidate you, kind reader, but my recent book – written with my friend Erin – was selected for the Literacy Research Association’s 2024 Edward B. Fry award. Storytelling and Improvisation as Anti-Racist Pedagogies is the culmination of Erin and my work over the last 10 years to use improv as a way to challenge racism. It was humbling and shocking to receive an award for the book. I guess I’m kind of a big deal. Please read that last sentence as though it is dripping with sarcasm. Because it is.
Two of my closest academic friends attended the award ceremony. They hooted and hollered when my name was called. They wanted me to offer an entertaining and inappropriate shoutout to them. Honor their legacy, announce that they were dead, or something else insane. I laughed with them about it before I walked up to the stage. Then I froze. There was a crowd of academic looking at me. Erin was on stage with me. I didn’t want to embarrass her. So I nervously thanked the committee, thanked some of the thinkers that inspired our work, and stumbled off the stage with a plague.
It has been, as any dutiful reader of this blog might notice, one heck of a semester. It was nice to end it by stumbling off a stage with a plaque.
***
It doesn’t pay to work for validation. This is true in anything. Writing. Improv. Teaching. Academia. If you are chasing attention and applause then they are always their own reward. Eventually the buzz wears off, the applause go away, and you’re left with yourself.
Academia can trick you into chasing validation. The rush of getting an award, seeing a publication accepted, or being honored in any way is a buzz. Validation is a trap that can bring even the best of us down. I’ve chased it before and I’m sure I’ve chased it again. I always have to remind myself that chasing validation for the sake of validation is a fool’s game.
I’m really proud of the book Erin and I wrote. And it was so cool to see that work celebrated in a public way. So yes, I’ll be proud of this award. But I also want to remind myself that there is no life in awards, no peace in external validation, and no joy in chasing the next white whale.
And there’s a reference to Moby Dick. Talk about an English major.
***
And now, kind reader, I’ll treat you to a picture of Erin and I standing on a stage, awkwardly accepting our award:
And now, kind reader, I’ll treat you to a picture of a slide presented as we accepted the award:
And finally, dear reader, I’ll leave you with words from one of my favorite people. One of my doctoral advisors and mentors wrote the foreword to the book. Mazel tov. Here is the first paragraph of that foreword.
Samuel Jaye Tanner 