A local school called me awhile back, asking if I'd be willing to mentor one of their art students.
It seemed like the worst possible time to take on another volunteer responsibility. I still have kids at home who are my first priority, and between commitments to family, friends, my health and other volunteering I do, I already have precious little time for making art.
Hiring help in my studio has never been a serious consideration for me.
I'm a one-person studio, and I already job out the parts of my business I can: photography, printing, etc. If I could have any help I wanted, I'd hire someone to clean my house. Unfortunately, in our area, we have trouble finding reliable people to clean house for $20 an hour. Who would I find for minimum wage to do stuff like neaten my studio, update mailing lists and pack shipments?
And this wouldn't even be a real employee. Understandably, this young person would probably want to learn the GOOD stuff, and I simply don't have the time or inclination to be a one-on-one teacher right now.
I spoke to the advisor, got more information, and told her I would think about it. Then I went to my various art communities and asked what they thought.
Most people waxed eloquent on the joys of giving your time and energy to help others. Well...yes. Being an at-home mother, I'm the first one called to help out for a jillion causes in my local community. My question is, why should I take on ANOTHER volunteer commitment?
To my question "What would *I* get out of this?" one person tried to be sage and cryptic at the same time: "Only you can answer that question." Thank you, Yoda.
A few brave souls e-mailed me privately with the downside of high school interns. For the most part, they are simply more work than help, if that's an important consideration. It was. I already have two teens, do I need to add another to the mix? It became clear that a working/teaching relationship was not going to work right now.
But I still hesitated to say no.
Years ago, I went looking for someone to teach my son about throwing clay. I got a name from a friend who assured me this was a great source, either to teach or to give me another name. It was the head of an art department at a teaching facility. I called, introduced myself, told them I'd been referred to them by so-and-so, and told them the reason for the call.
But all I got was a big, fat, resounding, "NO!"
"Where did you get this number?!" was the first question out of this person's mouth. The tone was hostile and suspicious. I stammered a reply, saying I was sorry to bother them, and again explained my call.
They seemed indignant I would even expect him to consider such a request. I apologized again, and asked if they knew of any other teaching resources in our area. They said no again, firmly and then wished me luck. Gee, thanks.
I didn't want to be that person.
When the advisor called for my decision, I asked to meet with her and the student.
And I'm glad I did.
It turns out there are other ways I can help.
I told the student upfront why I wasn't sure a traditional internship would work for me right now. But I wanted to give her several options and "next steps"—other potential mentors, other people to ask for names, and suggestions for getting her portfolio together. I assured her she would leave that day with SOMETHING.
I asked her what her art was, and what she wanted out of her internship. Her answer surprised me. She simply wanted to be around working artists. Well, that seemed easy!
Her current artwork (assemblage) gave me ideas for other artists she could meet with. Turns out she's doing sort of the same thing my artist friend Lee is. Would she like to join us for a few of our weekly artist get-togethers? She said she would.
Next, I gave her the name of my photographer, who knows almost every artist and craftsperson in the area.
Then I suggested several courses of action for her. One, take some business classes. They would help her in her own business someday. "You're going to be doing your own market research and development, your own marketing, your own product research and development, your own publicity and probably your own selling and budgeting and accounting," I told her. "You'll have a leg up on other artists if you have an inkling of how to go about these things."
Two, though she didn't like to draw, it wouldn't hurt to take a few drawing classes. I told her drawing was a useful tool, even if she didn't want to draw as an artist. "It's like a singer or songwriter being able to play a guitar or piano," I said. "In fact, it's a skill just like playing the piano—anyone can learn! You don't have to good at it, but it will help you visualize new projects, problems, even record inspirations and ideas." It will also put her around other people who are artistic.
Three, collage and assemblage involve joining things. A cool skill to have might be soldering and welding. I gave a brief overview of types of connections, from riveting, welding, soldering to lacing, wrapping and gluing. "The more ways you have of connecting things, the bigger your collage 'vocabulary'", I explained. She agreed a welding class would be pretty cool. In fact, her advisor said they'd seen a photo of a couch made out of nickels welded together recently and thought it was awesome. "Well, the guy who made that couch lives near Brattleboro and the guy who took that photo is my photographer!" I said. So now they have two reasons to call Jeff Baird!
Last, I gave her a handout I prepared a few years ago for a presentation I did for high school art students. It's a list of common "myths" about artists that get in the way of BEING an artist. Since I wrote it, I've discovered it's a common theme—there are at least two other "10 Myths" lists out there, both very good ones—but it's still a useful list. At the end is a list of things people can do RIGHT NOW to get started on their art careers.
Finally, it turns out she COULD hang out for a few hours in my studio occasionally, exploring paper collage and activities like altered books and CD's. So it's possible I'll have an intern in my studio anyway.
But all this was very different than what I thought was originally on the table.
So, in the end, I left her with a lot more than "no". It turns out I may not be her teacher. But I will definitely be one of the people in her life who helped her get to a "next step".
Which may be the best thing a teacher can do, after all.
