From Awkward Silences to Unexpected Allies: Reasons Not to Fear Instructors

UAlberta student Gurleen shares why tough moments in class don't have to define you.

This article was originally written for University of Alberta by Gurleen. Gurleen (she/her) is an outgoing, friendly and proactive Canadian-Sikh student with Kashmiri roots. She enjoys our city's vibrant community and brings energy and enthusiasm to everything she does. She loves playing volleyball, badminton and DIYs her projects. Gurleen is in her fourth year of psychology and is a passionate mental health advocate. Her goal is to help cultivate resilient communities for students who remain courageous during times of struggle. You'll often find Gurleen out in nature or browsing various cozy spots near cafés on and off campus.

Day one: I didn't commit to awkwardness, but it happened anyway.

The class was densely packed with students waking from morning sleepiness when the instructor asked what the social contract means for consent.

I recall it all: the sound of pens circling around their fingers and palms, throats pulling back saliva, ‘cough cough' noises amidst the awkwardness of waiting.

And somehow I unintentionally committed to the first-day-of-awkward-silence award-winner category with my very far-off response.

I was both excited and reasonably nervous to discuss theories of consent and feminism. But I was unfamiliar with recent class discussion and the instructor's style of presenting. So, I candidly but mistakenly brought up a point a bit farther from the lecture's focus than I intended.

The absence of any noise was much louder after the diversely inaccurate response that came to life.

The culprit? Me.

Yes, I noticed—and I can still draw out—his confused blank face with raised brows of confusion… as he voiced how vastly incorrect my response was.

First impressions are important, and I definitely left one, no doubt.

This incident had my sweat glands active, and I inhaled one deep breath to activate my pretty little parasympathetic system. I was sure people to my left and right could have easily heard the thudding of my heart. My throat, back of head and arms buzzed as it beat audibly with its quick-step, high rate of rhythm.

With day one over, I mumbled to myself: “So, friend…”, my red, embarrassed cheeks calling to my mind for a commitment to breathe in silence without need for self-critique.

I exhaled to remind myself gently. “Let us please make a deal, my dear mind; you are capable of outgrowing awkward silences while staying in them.”

Reflecting on the situation

I have loud, high energy—no doubt. My friends know that I don't hesitate to roll myself off the couch after a long day for more energizing activities. My routines help me keep my energy, which is helpful.

I also highly recommend advocating for yourself and support as needed without asserting any single path of problem-solving.

And fret not, because I got to pile up evidence that I'm not as awkward in class as I felt on day one!

It can't just be me—don't you know the lighthearted feeling from relief and self-talk during breaks on campus?

Until, of course, I received a random email from the instructor—creating uncertainty that pulled my heart below the gut.

• Was I too awkward?
• Did I do something weird?
• Was my point offensive? But he would have said something then, no?
• Please tell me, girlie, that you did not forget your bottle in class?
• Are you going to click before you write a creative piece on this?
• But did I contradict his points too much in class?

Plot twist: This instructor wasn't that ‘intimidating' after all.

Before I reveal what this instructor shared with me, I need to clarify one thing. Every person laughs and cries for different reasons. No, we do not all react the same to every situation.

My top emotional responses happen when experiencing wedding moments, La Vie En Rose by Louis Armstrong, dark humour and being a laughing doll during friend emergencies.

So this instructor checked in on me via email. He extended an invite to speak to him or ask for anything after he noticed I had turned quieter than my usual presence during classes.

I spent time worrying about the boundaries of my neurodivergent presence, but it turns out the instructor was supportive the entire time.

So, I might (or might not) have shed a tear of pure love and gratitude towards this hard-to-impress instructor who corrected me so much. And yes, I might have been in the public food court while reading the email. (So, if you remember witnessing me, you can relax; I wasn't in distress.)

His email allowed me to stop overthinking my awkwardness. Apparently, it was part of my character trait that was being appreciated here. Perhaps it worked just fine in this course. I slowed down, and he helped me finish this class during a personally and physically challenging time.

My call out to students

Lean into your strengths; no awkward moments need to define you in entirety.

Coursework and life can bring any change—remain strong to handle every opportunity with grace. It can be worthwhile, and be open to letting your instructors surprise you with their actions.