On Ignorance

When I was really little, I believed Canadians didn’t attend church. I knew that my family didn’t go to church because of my father, and my father was different from other people’s fathers because he was Canadian. Furthermore, I had met quite a few Canadians, and none of them attended church either.

The fact that my grandmother’s house in Montreal was right next to a Catholic church didn’t phase to me. (Also, not only did I eventually figure out that my extended family was not representative of Canada as a whole, but I also learned what “Jewish” meant. Look how far I’ve come!)

Sure she’s cute, but can she drive a stick shift?

The truth of the matter is, we all start out ignorant. While the fact that I confused nationality and religion in Kindergarten certainly caused some laughs, nobody got angry at me for what I should have known. Our tolerance for ignorance usually decreases with age: it’s okay for an 11-year-old not to know how to balance a checkbook, but we get annoyed if they still don’t know by 22. While the opposite is sometimes true when talking about new technology, most of us set age-based standards for wisdom.

You should use the toilet by 3. Learn to read by 6. Do algebra by 15. Understand the electoral college by … probably never. 

Unfortunately, these assumptions on our part can hurt not only our businesses, but our community.

When I was 26, I read LMT on a business card and had no idea what it meant. I got annoyed with the person. What the heck were they trying to convey, the fact that they knew the alphabet? Why wouldn’t they just tell me what they did? I wasn’t stupid, but someone assumed that I would see that their business was a spa, make a list of possible spa occupations in my head, somehow match one of them up with the letters I’d been given, and decide they were the person for me.

They lost my business.

When we assume that very young massage therapists can’t do a great job because we were ignorant at that age, everyone loses out on what might have been a great professional relationship.

When we assume that just because a massage therapist has years of experience and a well-known practice, they must also have a firm grasp on ethics and professionalism, we can get ourselves into sticky situations.

When we’re furious that someone doesn’t realize there’s a difference between a massage therapist and a prostitute, we effectively stop that person from ever coming to us with a back injury.

When we get angry at new massage therapists straight out of school who’ve been taught that massage flushes lactic acid from their muscles, we lose a chance to educate and to foster the growth of a potential advocate for scientific literacy.

There are lots of blameworthy characteristics in the world: dishonesty, untrustworthiness, egotism, greed. We do what we can to avoid dealing with people who show those qualities, because there’s not much good that can come from it.

But ignorance? Ignorance is a shockingly easy fix. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have schools, we wouldn’t have newspapers, we wouldn’t have blogs or libraries or advertising, for that matter.

So take a minute for the ignorant. Explain your techniques to a client. Explain why your decision was the ethical one. Write out “Licensed Massage Therapist” instead of leaving your business card a wash of alphabet soup.

Just because we’re bodyworkers doesn’t mean we can’t be knowledge-workers as well, so get rid of your “shoulds”share what you’ve got. Potential clients, students, colleagues, (and possibly the occasional churchgoing Canadian) will thank you for it.

Kat Mayerovitch is a licensed massage therapist practicing in a nonprofit chronic pain management center in Cleveland, Ohio. She also works as a copywriter, volunteers like mad in local community development, and plays the ukulele. If you liked this, Kat writes more good stuff at LMT or Bust.

photo credit: ` TheDreamSky via photopin cc

Evolving Roles

When I first decided to become a massage therapist, I didn’t think about what kinds of roles I wanted to play in the massage world. I was going to give kick-butt massages, and maybe write about it on the side. Wasn’t that basically what everyone in massage school planned to do?

But the more time I spend as a part of the massage community, the more aware I become of the huge variety of roles massage therapists play:

  • business owner
  • community health educator
  • teacher
  • author
  • researcher
  • volunteer
  • mentor
  • retailer
  • organizer

Superhero belongs on this list too.

These are only the very beginning, and yet we rarely talk massage therapists about the many paths of service that are open to them. Why?

Of the roles I’ve taken on since becoming a part of the massage therapy community, the one that took me most by surprise is student advocate. It occurred as a side effect of blogging while still in massage school; I felt obligated to stand up for myself and my fellow students, to remind the world that we were no less an important part of the massage world than those who had long since left their school days behind. Whether we like it or not, today’s students are the future of the profession. In my role as their staunch supporter, I feel that I owe it to us all to make sure that they enter the professional world with the very best we have to offer.

Part of this means helping students to move forward through their educations with open eyes, knowing what kinds of roles they might take on in their careers, and what shoes they might someday have to fill. This knowledge can affect not only their educational choices, but their aspirations and level of connection to the field.

The next time someone asks you about your experience as a massage therapist, take just a minute to step beyond the clients and the daily laundry, and outline the other roles that you and those around you have taken on over the years.

You might be surprised and find that you’re more than you think you are. Open up the doors and show people the wider vistas of what a massage therapist can truly accomplish in this world. It’s a beautiful view. Why not let everyone know?

 

Kat Mayerovitch is a licensed massage therapist practicing in a nonprofit chronic pain management center in Cleveland, Ohio. She also works as a copywriter, volunteers like mad in local community development, and plays the ukulele. If you liked this, Kat writes more good stuff at LMT or Bust.

 

photo credit: gorickjones via photo pin cc