Unmasking at #OER23

Dedicated to Caroline Keep (@ka81) and SJ White (@whatthetrigmath) with love and solidarity.

The backyard of Lou’s bolt hole in Inverness: Hedgehogs

I just woke fresh as a daisy from 12 hours sleep, ready for #OER23 (the Open Educational Resources conference, held over the next two days at the University of the Highlands and Islands in beautiful Inverness).

I feel so good because I did what my body and mind needed after an incredibly busy few weeks; lots of lovely birthday stuff but also my first ever BETT Show. Have you ever been? It’s energetic, full of lovely people…and overwhelming. So I rested as much as I could over a weekend which didn’t allow much time for that, and I took ten hours to drive alone through some of the most gorgeous landscapes on earth.

And last night I turned down a very tempting invitation to join some wonderful people - the people I’ve come here to meet - for dinner.

If I sound smug, I apologise. My life has been a chaos of energies. For nearly half of it I’ve understood that my cognitive patterning is ‘ADHD’ but that in itself doesn’t make juggling the chemicals any easier, though I’ve developed many strategies down the years. But - beyond saying “my social battery is flat” - I still lacked insight around my reaction to big events.

I self-medicated for years, though I didn’t recognise it as such. I couldn’t host a conference without either a migraine, a tramadol or a bottle of wine at the end of the day. Sometimes I didn’t make it to the starting line…I’ve embarrassing memories of literally being too overwhelmed to walk into a public health conference back in the day; the journey to London alone had burned me out (and those events aren’t cheap, so you can imagine the guilt and self-shame that followed). And I remember a time when a colleague sent me to bed the night before a conference we were organising.

#OER23 is high stakes not because they aren’t the kindest people but because they are - people I’m meeting for the first time, having got to know them online over the past five years. I even co-chaired the conference online in 2021. People will want to talk to me as much as I want to talk to them. So I can’t be anonymous. It’s also a huge, international, multi-platformed event so the possibilities for overwhelm are…inevitable, really.

The BETT Show was hard because there’s nowhere to hide. To be honest, there’s not even enough places to sit down and you are always surrounded by throngs of people. It’s a literal hide-in-the-toilets experience, or it was for me. I used to think it was shyness, I was a critically shy child and thanks to Susan Cain’s work I’ve been able to accept that in myself, even if other people don’t always recognise it because I’m brave.

(A very personal aside here: Mick fell in love with me 20+ years ago because I stood up to challenge a speaker at a big regen conference. Not because I challenged, but because I was shaking. He was sitting next to me and could feel it. She’d bullied me badly in a previous job…but she still needed tackling).

I would not have been able to handle BETT, had it not been for my friend SJ White saying quite firmly to me that there was always a cuppa and a place to sit down at the Texthelp stand. Still not quite getting it, I thought only in terms of my aching feet…but Sammy knew me better than I knew myself. She also introduced me to Caroline Keep. I liked Caroline immediately, fangirled a bit (I follow her on Twitter) and made a genuine connection. I survived, even enjoyed it and gave every impression of energetic confidence, I’m sure.

Then afterwards, as I encountered a busy weekend, determined to joyfully enjoy every moment and get some radical rest too, I noticed Caroline’s tweets. Openly, chattily and forcefully, she commented on the aftermath of BETT as an Autistic/ADHD researcher, even as she picked up on life. The penny finally dropped so heavily I was actually tearful (and I rarely cry at anything but sport). It’s not some weirdness in me that makes the big event something to be adored and feared. It’s not shyness that makes me hide in the toilet. It’s not misanthropy which means I can only communicate in emojis by the end (last summer I reached this point with LIFE). It’s how I’m wired. It’s how many other people are wired. And we are still fabulous.

So at #OER23 I’m doing what I need. Staying at a distance from both campus and the town, so I’m forced to walk some (perfect processing time). Having a bolt hole (this one brings its own anxieties as it’s the cleanest place I’ve been in my life). Knowing I’m not a wuss for needing lots of sleep. Saying, “I would prefer not to…” if a social event promises to overwhelm. Stepping outside if it all gets too much. Hiding in the toilet if I want to. Three deep breaths. And that beautiful long drive home at the end of it*.

So #OER23 I am ready to make the most of you and all your beautiful people. Bring it on!

*That might bring another form of guilt to work through, but I wouldn’t have got here if I’d had to come on a crowded train.

**Since I wrote this, new D’oh! insights just keep on coming. (So *this* is why I fret endlessly about my belongings and recklessly abandon my bags) 🙄