When I was 15 and 16, I tell Bernardo J. Carducci in his office here -- the cramped room that he calls the Shyness Research Institute -- I went every Monday night to a community dance.
The first week, I mumbled, “Can I have this dance?” to one of only two girls my age. After that the two of us knew to just walk out onto the parquet, for virtually every song.
We became so good that, as in movies, the other dancers cleared the floor, especially for our waltzes.
Those were sheer entrancement. The levitation, the entwined limbs. ...
But, for nine months, we never spoke. At all. I did not know her name. She did not ask mine.
Finally, one Monday, as the last dance ended, she exclaimed, “Jeez you dance good.”
I stuttered, muttered, “Er ... er ... so do you.”
Then I left the hall. And never returned.
“Ooooh,” winces Mr. Carducci. “But you know, Peter, we hear variations of your story all the time.”
After all, listening to shy people is what he does.
The professor of psychology here at Indiana University Southeast has, over 25 years, fashioned himself as something of a shyness guru. His well-received books, translated into several languages, include Shyness: A Bold New Approach, with Susan K. Golant (HarperCollins, 1999) and, with Lisa Kaiser, The Shyness Breakthrough: A No-Stress Plan to Help Your Shy Child Warm Up, Open Up, and Join the Fun (Rodale, 2003). He has been featured and frequently cited in hundreds of publications as varied as Psychology Today, Ladies’ Home Journal, Jet, Out, and The National Enquirer.
“What that tells me is that shyness cuts through so many aspects of life,” he says. “I’ve been in Cooking Light! I’ve been in Shape. Look at me. Do I look like someone who is fit?”
Frankly, no. The affable professor is a generously large man. Over his tall-and-big-store tummy this day stretch a bright yellow shirt and a red, yellow, blue, purple, white, and green tie, all bustling stripes and darts. Flashy rings sparkle on his fingers, and his Mercedes-Benz carries a vanity plate: “Wiseguy.”
In his department, as on campus, he compliments many colleagues and opens doors for all: He performs “social graces” -- as his books prescribe to distract oneself from shyness.
He falters on colleagues’ names, but no matter. In his handy The Pocket Guide to Making Successful Small Talk: How to Talk to Anyone Anytime Anywhere About Anything, which he published himself in 1999 and which is small enough to carry to social events, he says: Do not worry when you forget someone’s name; just say, “I’m sorry but I’m terrible with names and I’ve already forgotten yours.”
“Remind me of your last name again,” he says.
His attire often elicits exclamations from students, Mr. Carducci reports. He always responds, “You ain’t seen nothin’; these are just my work clothes.”
“Any sap can dress well with a lot of money, but I do it on an academic’s budget,” he laughs. “I try to dress in a way that reflects the image that I want to project.” In fact, he adds, “I try to dress in a way that I hope will bring people to me.”
And they come, in droves, seeking remedies for the social awkwardness that hobbles them. Knowledge is power, apparently, for Mr. Carducci says his main goal is “to educate shy people to the process, to the dynamics, of shyness.” He has surveyed a gazillion shy people and analyzed countless letters from them. He can report that about 50 percent of Americans say they are shy, at least in some situations.
Shy people, he emphasizes, are not born shy. Rather, for whatever reason, they become painfully preoccupied with and negative toward themselves, and then anxious or withdrawn when in public.
Do not think that the condition has somehow singled you out, he insists. No, because even the most renowned celebrities or public figures may be painfully shy, but they find ways to deal with their affliction. Same with reporters, he says: They, too, are overrepresented among the shy -- “when you’re asking questions, dictating the flow of the interaction, you’re in your comfort zone.”
Armed with a map of shyness, people can venture out of it. His prescriptions include: Learn relaxation techniques; avoid alcohol, which, after all, is only a temporary remedy; practice small talk; start off in unthreatening situations, like sports events or political rallies; read widely so as to have something to talk small about; rehearse.
And divert your attention away from yourself: Practice those social graces, such as offering to get someone a refreshment. Or volunteer somewhere, because that provides a low-pressure opportunity to get to know varied, presumably empathetic people.
Overcoming the obsession with one’s own shyness seems more complicated, but Mr. Carducci insists it is not. Realize, he says, that people are more likely worrying about how they look than how you do. Set realistic expectations, both of yourself and of the social situations you encounter. Focus on your strengths.
And remember, he says, “shyness is not a disease.” In fact, “there’s nothing wrong with shyness. The problem is, it can control you, and hold you back. But if you can use your knowledge of shyness to control it, you can be a successful shy person.”
That, he confides, is what he is.
Mikaela Strahm, age 7, giggles as she whispers that she got "$1, $1, and $5" under her pillow for the three teeth that until recently filled the large gap in her mouth.
Her mom, Barbara Strahm, brought Mikaela to the Shyness Research Institute after “an incident” at her school showed how shy the bright, keen-eyed girl was.
“I grew up shy, and it was heartbreaking to see it in her,” says Ms. Strahm, a mother of four. “But I had a conversation with the principal, who put me in touch with Dr. Carducci.” She attended one of his community presentations, at a local library, then started bringing Mikaela to see him. By helping her prepare for social events, role-playing, and talking over how situations have gone, the professor has made a real difference, Ms. Strahm says.
“All the things I thought about being shy were shattered by Dr. Carducci, which was a good thing,” she says. At his suggestion, when she attended a work gathering, she prepared Mikaela by giving her a coloring book to take along, so she could ask a colleague’s daughter to work on it with her. “She did excellently,” says Ms. Strahm. “Any other time she had hidden behind me.”
Says Mr. Carducci: “It’s about working with the underlying dynamics of shyness, rather than working against them by, say, forcing a kid to play with others. It’s also critical that a parent doesn’t continually rescue a child. You can just let her warm up to a situation.”
One of Mr. Carducci’s former students drops by. Mervil Carmickle, a pleasant man in his mid-30s who still volunteers as Mr. Carducci’s assistant, is now a master’s student in social work at the University of Louisville, having largely overcome three decades of mortifying shyness.
“I didn’t go to my high-school proms, I didn’t go out for sports, I didn’t do any of those things,” he recalls. But things are looking up, plenty. Now he can speak in public. He can talk to attractive women. The latter remains challenging, he says, but “I try not to let being shy overwhelm me, to think, ‘I’m not going to give this person a chance.’”
Successes like that “make my everyday life very different. There were times when being shy really limited my potential,” he says.
Can he be more specific about how you just go up and talk to attractive women?
“It’s all in that little book,” he says, pointing to a copy of The Pocket Guide.
“Listen,” interjects Mr. Carducci. He used to be shy around women, too, but, as he tells people who attend his shy-singles seminars, “one day it dawned on me: Most gals like to dance, but most guys don’t; so, all of a sudden your odds go up dramatically if you’re just willing to go out there.”
And, presumably, to talk to them.
http://chronicle.com Section: Notes From Academe Volume 51, Issue 25, Page A48