Tales of a Chronic Blusher

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Somehow, this English major found herself in a Business class. I knew that I would have to work extra hard to keep up with the Econ and BEO concentrators, but I was up for the challenge. The only thing standing in my way was that 35% of my final grade is based off class participation. I decided the best way to combat the issue was to discuss all of the assigned case studies with my dad, a brilliant businessman, who could teach me the lingo, and perhaps the difference between a ‘value proposition’ and a ‘business model.’

Last Tuesday in class, we were discussing a case study on Zipcar, the car-sharing service. I had yet to contribute after the first two weeks of class, and, feeling comfortable with this particular assignment, knew today would have to be the day I would finally raise my hand. My moment came when the professor asked the class to name one of the deals that took place in the building of the Zipcar company. I had talked about this exact topic with my dad the night before, and excitedly raised my hand. “The first deal was a $50,000 convertible loan from a former classmate.” The professor nodded his head in approval. I immediately let go of the tension in my shoulders before the redness could successfully creep up my chest, through my neck, and into my face. Phew!, I thought. I had just narrowly missed another blushing bout.

You may think I’m celebrating over nothing – everyone blushes from time to time! – but you are wrong. You see, I’m a chronic blusher. And by blush, I mean that every single blood cell in my body moves up into my face, my ears, my hair follicles. My blood rushes so quickly and intensely and that I can actually feel my heartbeat in my eyelids. Then my upper lip starts to sweat, mirroring my armpits and knee creases. I imagine that I look something like a human fireball. And Tuesday in Business class was no exception.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t done answering questions. “Tell me, Sydney, how a normal loan works?” Now I had the class’s attention again, but my face was eight shades redder than it had been 30 seconds ago. The girl next to me was visibly concerned.

“Uhhh… you loan someone money and then get the money… baaack?” I answered/asked, my voice raising three octaves on that last word.

“And you also get… what?” the professor asked. Two more shades of red added themselves to the existing pigmentation.

“Theee… money?” I squeaked.

“No, that would be a favor. You get interest,” he retorted. DamnitI knew that! At this point, the blood was thumping so hard in my ears I could barely hear the nervous cough of the kid to my right.

“And what’s a convertible loan?” he asked, with what I perceived as a concerned look, probably due to the fact that I was about three shades away from actually exploding at my desk. But I knew this one!!!

“A convertible loan is when you loan a company money and then get a portion of the company in return.” The professor smiled, and I tried not to black out.

“Where did you learn that?” he asked. Uh oh.

“…My dad,” I nearly whispered back, smiling apologetically. I could see the eyes of the BEO concentrators roll back into their heads.

“Oh,” the professor responded, smiling, “nice.” Later that night, probably due to how badly he felt about my obvious embarrassment in class, I received an email from him that read: “Nice comment today. Keep up the good work.”

I don’t just blush during embarrassing moments like these, though. I turn tomato red even when I feel pretty comfortable: speaking to teachers one-on-one, having a conversation with my friends’ parents, even just chatting with a group of pals. I went to my public speaking professor, a lovely woman named Barbara, and asked her what was up.

“Put your hand next to mine,” she said. “Do you see the difference? You have pink undertones, and I have yellow undertones. You are naturally going to turn redder than I.” That made sense. “Also, blushing is a neurological condition,” she explained, “If you’re someone who blushes, you’re just going to blush.” Frustrating, but again, understandable.

For those of you out there who, like me, find yourself turning inexplicably and alarmingly red on a daily basis, Barbara suggests wearing black (white will highlight the vibrancy) and tops with high necklines. And don’t let your blushing hold you back! Raise your hand in class because what you have to say is important. And because your grade depends on it.

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