Tell Me More

COMP 250 with William Mangrum challenges me every time I walk in. It challenges me because it makes me down right uncomfortable at times. I like questions with one answer. I like having set ways to do things. I do not like when all attention is directed towards me. I do not like talking about my feelings, and I especially do not like talking about my feelings with a group of 20 strangers. This discomfort made our class discussion on phenomenonal interviewing even more difficult for me. “Words can conceal or reveal” (Mangrum). In the case of being interviewed by someone I barely know, I would prefer to conceal. For this reason I was relieved, with every question asked of Gino, that I was not in his shoes. I was relieved until, without fail, Mangrum called on me when I least wanted him to, and asked me to conduct my own interview. In an ideal world I would have shrugged my shoulders and passed the task onto another classmate, but I knew there was no getting out of this one, so away I went. I began to find that interviewing may even be more difficult than being interviewed. You have to ask good questions, listen carefully for an answer, then come up with an even better question to ask next, all while writing every response down. There was a lot more to these interviews than “very interesting” and “tell me more”. You have to dig deep into your brain, or else it will simply go nowhere. It will definitely take me some practice to master this technique, but I do think that it will be beneficial. Listening to the discussion about these interviews also made me wonder, “What places inside my self to I need to interview, to interrogate?” Maybe the first person I need to practice this new interviewing technique on is myself.

The Road Less Traveled

I’m sure at some point we’ve all been watching our favorite team, or at least been pretending to watch someone else’s favorite team, and seen a player get injured. It’s not hard for us to be aware when our favorite player goes down clutching their knee, but how many people notice the first person out there when they do? It’s not hard to notice the tape on your leading scorer’s ankles, but does anyone ever stop to think about how it got there in the first place? Injury, in any physical activity, is undeniably unavoidable, which is why I want to be an athletic trainer. Because what would a Sunday afternoon be without your favorite football team? What would you remember from high school if you had not had the opportunity to scream your heart out during games. I want to be an athletic trainer because I want to be apart of the madness and chaos that brings so many people, people that would otherwise have nothing in common, together. You can call me biased, but I believe it takes a special kind of person to be an athletic trainer. It’s demanding. Athletic trainers work long days and late nights, then have piles of paperwork and reports to complete when they’re done. It’s a whole lot of memorization. Not only do you have to know every muscle, tendon, bone, and ligament, you have to know how they work. It takes critical thinking. Because it’s one thing to be able to name every part of the body, it’s another to be able to diagnose what’s wrong with it, then figure out how to fix it. It requires people skills. Athletic trainers are around players, coaches, parents, and staff constantly. If you’re not a people person you’re simply not going to like it. So next time you’re watching your favorite team take a look at the brilliant support staff behind them and think about everything they did to get them there.