I’m happy to be writing a round-up of this week’s volunteers’ night at The Bristol Bike Project, with a genuine smile on my face!
I started off the evening having a chat with a female mechanic who has agreed to be interviewed for the blog*. We both agreed that most people (particularly women) have a tendency to doubt their own judgement. We seek a second opinion on matters that deep down, we know, but we don’t really believe that we know it.
It’s all tied up with Impostor Syndrome – something I’m very familiar with, and may write about at length in the future, if anyone’s interested. Remarkably, following this conversation, I proceeded to have an evening that completely confirmed this exact observation.
Trust your judgement
I started volunteering at the Bike Project last summer, so it’s been about 7 months now. That’s actually a long time when I look at it objectively. Despite that, I’ve had periods of 3 weeks at a time when I’ve not been, and whenever that happens I return feeling like I know less than I actually do. If you’ve read my accounts of my last two sessions, you’ll know that I returned after Christmas feeling particularly rusty, having had a complete disaster before breaking up for the holidays.
So when I turned up last night and was paired with someone who was less experienced than me, I immediately went into panic mode. How could I show someone what to do? I didn’t know what to do! I needed someone to guide me, to help me, I was completely clueless!
Before the panic, I was calmly working my way down the checklist with a Raleigh Blueridge (unstarted, as learned last week), and was about to service the bottom bracket. I had an idea of what I needed to do, and I was about to get on with it. With panic in full swing, I attempted to find something for my companion (Harry) to do, and drew a complete blank. I couldn’t think of anything simple to teach him.
Thankfully Adam (one of the coordinators) saw the panic in my eyes and stepped in, taking Harry off to one side to teach him how to service hubs. Of course, immediately afterwards, I felt ridiculous. I know hubs. It was the first thing Adam taught me. Why didn’t I teach Harry how to service hubs? I was blind-sighted by panic and forgot everything that I know.
But it was done, now. Harry was learning on the other side of the workshop, and I was left to go back to the bottom bracket. What do you think happened next?
Easy. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing – or at least, I thought as much. I had to get the crank arms off. I had the right tool in my hands, but immediately doubted that I was doing it right. I knew there was a reverse thread coming up somewhere, but couldn’t remember where. So I asked Mike (other coordinator) for help. It was easy – turn it left and loosen it. I knew that. But I didn’t know that I knew it.
This became a running theme throughout the servicing of the bottom bracket. I kept checking that I had the right tool, that I was turning it the right way, that I wasn’t putting too much force on it, that I was putting enough force on it. I was constantly seeking Mike for help with things that, as soon as he showed me, I realised I already knew.
How do you break that cycle? How do you start to trust your own judgement?
On one hand, Volunteers’ Night is a great place to learn these lessons, because there’s such a laid back atmosphere. No one minds if you get something wrong, and everyone is on hand to help if they can. On the other hand, I’m always so conscious that the bikes I work on are destined for people in need, and I don’t want to fuck it up for them. I don’t want to create more work for the next set of volunteers who try to finish it off, and I don’t want to potentially break a part or a tool that is otherwise useful.
I need to work on boosting my confidence somehow.
You know more than you think
In the end, we had a really successful evening. Harry serviced both wheels while I serviced the bottom bracket. I got him to check and grease the brakes, and showed him how to replace a brake cable. By the end of the night we’d ticked off about 3/4 of the checklist and it’s very likely the bike will be signed off in the next session.
If I went back tonight, I’d know exactly how to replicate what I did last night. I think the problem is that I only go once a week (if I even do that), and I’m not doing these things frequently enough to really hammer them home.
The Bike Project will be introducing a second volunteers’ night on Wednesdays from next week, and I intend to spend some weeks attending both nights. Perhaps I’ll even get a chance to start a bike from scratch on the Tuesday and sign it off on the Wednesday. That’s the dream.
*As an aside note – February’s theme will be ‘Femme’, and I have some awesome ladies lined up to interview about being a woman in the predominately male world of cycling and bike maintenance. Stay tuned!