I’ve been mentoring MFA screenwriting students online for almost eight years now, and I’m still trying to figure out what it is that makes a good mentor.
The only time I felt I'd done any good as a teacher was when working with mothers on welfare at the Humboldt Park Employment Training Center in Chicago. I found my actual teaching talent was provoking people I could tell were smart (but didn't seem to think so) into realizing it. These were women, many of whom had been persuaded that they were worthless as far as thinking and learning went. My involuntary skill was to either spark their interest and nurture it, or make them so bored and frustrated with my own interests that they rebelled and demanded alternatives. I would not say teaching is my strong suit, but under certain rare circumstances I instigated some unexpected positive results.
I was a Social worker at some point in my life and I can see similarities to being a teacher or mentor. The people you are working with are young. They have to figure out so much at that age. As their mentor you can only help them up to a certain degree. Empowering the people you are working with, by showing them what they are good at. Believe in them, when they don’t believe in themselves. It is exhausting and sometimes depressing and that your inner critic is enjoying that you suffer and have self-doubt is normal. And questioning yourself shows that you care about your work and the students you work with. I like what you’ve said: “But I’m hoping the spirit of the assignments get embedded in their subconscious, so that someday they’ll be able to reach in and avail themselves of what’s there.” That is a high aim and we will prop ably will never find out what an impact we had on people, but it is worth trying...
I just finished “zen in the art of archery” by Eugen Herrigel. A little book about learning the art of Japanese archery. Maybe it could help you as a teacher/ mentor. I read about in correlation with learning photography and found it interesting. I am thinking on writing about it in the future, but I just thought of it. Maybe it can be of help to you.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Susanne. Yes, I'm learning how to step back and just guide them with enthusiasm and compassion, and make sure their journey doesn't get derailed, at least not on my watch. And thanks for mentioning Zen in the Art of Archery.
I read that book when I was in college and loved it. But maybe I should revisit it again and re-cement what I've learned from it.
Before Covid and long before Zoom was invented, I used to teach one2one photography. Before any "class" taking place, I would have set up a meeting with the future student in a coffee shop of student's choice. I would ask for the student to bring a camera and I always had with me a photo of a pink flower on a blue background. One of my first statements to the student was: "I cannot teach you what to photograph, I can teach you only how to capture what you see and maybe, just maybe, how to look at the subject from a different perspective". Straight away I could see a surprised face, the kind of asking in the back of the head "What the hell are we doing here, then?"
Me: "Ok, have a look at this flower. Do you think it's beautiful?"
Student: "Yes, of course, it's a beautiful flower. Where did you take that photo?"
Me: "Good. Now, what colour is that flower?"
Student: "Pink"
Me: "Very good. Now let me explain. I don't see that flower beautiful ..."
Student: "What?!"
Me: "I said I don't see it beautiful, I didn't say I see it ugly. All I see is a flower, that's it. And I don't see it pink, I see it gray"
Student: "What?!"
I would have taken the student camera (I'm very confident with any digital camera) take a photo of the flower in b&w and blow it on the screen untill it showed just a petal on the part of the background. Being in b&w, everything was shades of gray.
This is how my teaching process starting, by explaining to studends that I cannot see for them, I can only guide but they have to see for themselves and live with their choice. I had only one guy who didn't want to go further as he tought than I'm going to give him few hard lesson (which he had to learn by heart) on what settings to use for certain scenarios.
Thank you for your comment! First, I now know I'm not vomitting into the void.
Second, you're making a good point -- "I cannot see for them. I can only guide them. But they have to learn to see for themselves and live with their choice."
I'm writing that sentence down in my commonplace journal as I'm typing this. I'm an old-world multitasker.
I think if you're an instructor at a school which teaches a particular form or style, and the student signed on to that school, then you're both required to do your best to work in that form or style - while working on projects for/within that school. If coming out of that program signifies you have learned a specific thing, then you're both obligated to do your best with that. But otherwise: I think an art teacher's job is to encourage and inform an artist so that they can do what they want to do. Certainly tell the artist your fears or alternatives or objections - but then try to see what they are doing, and help them do it. Because: who knows? There are as many different types of art as there are artists. Or maybe it's flawed -- but the flaws are outweighed by some other magic. That happens a lot. Hopefully your observations will percolate in them and come out as their own particular brew, and you will have helped that be stronger and more delicious. Making your own mistakes may actually be the definition of art.
Thanks so much, Glenn! That's exactly what I needed to hear.
No particular form or style in the school I'm mentoring at. I'm just trying to guide them to be the best they can be while helping them understand that screenplays (or stories in general) are not written by winging it. There's a definite method to the madness -- anyone who likes movies and watches them regularly will attest to that -- but I've become much more open to different methods, and even different madnesses. :)
The only time I felt I'd done any good as a teacher was when working with mothers on welfare at the Humboldt Park Employment Training Center in Chicago. I found my actual teaching talent was provoking people I could tell were smart (but didn't seem to think so) into realizing it. These were women, many of whom had been persuaded that they were worthless as far as thinking and learning went. My involuntary skill was to either spark their interest and nurture it, or make them so bored and frustrated with my own interests that they rebelled and demanded alternatives. I would not say teaching is my strong suit, but under certain rare circumstances I instigated some unexpected positive results.
Thanks for your comment, Jeff.
Love this:” I found my actual teaching talent was provoking people I could tell were smart (but didn't seem to think so) into realizing it.”
I was a Social worker at some point in my life and I can see similarities to being a teacher or mentor. The people you are working with are young. They have to figure out so much at that age. As their mentor you can only help them up to a certain degree. Empowering the people you are working with, by showing them what they are good at. Believe in them, when they don’t believe in themselves. It is exhausting and sometimes depressing and that your inner critic is enjoying that you suffer and have self-doubt is normal. And questioning yourself shows that you care about your work and the students you work with. I like what you’ve said: “But I’m hoping the spirit of the assignments get embedded in their subconscious, so that someday they’ll be able to reach in and avail themselves of what’s there.” That is a high aim and we will prop ably will never find out what an impact we had on people, but it is worth trying...
I just finished “zen in the art of archery” by Eugen Herrigel. A little book about learning the art of Japanese archery. Maybe it could help you as a teacher/ mentor. I read about in correlation with learning photography and found it interesting. I am thinking on writing about it in the future, but I just thought of it. Maybe it can be of help to you.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Susanne. Yes, I'm learning how to step back and just guide them with enthusiasm and compassion, and make sure their journey doesn't get derailed, at least not on my watch. And thanks for mentioning Zen in the Art of Archery.
I read that book when I was in college and loved it. But maybe I should revisit it again and re-cement what I've learned from it.
i understand why you married that woman, she's deffo a wise one.
on another note, i thought freddy was in paris, are the two of you talking again?
serious now: you are not vomiting in a void, i will come back later with a longer comment.
Thank you! 😀
I wish Freddy was in Paris.
have a look at freddy in paris
https://open.substack.com/pub/monochromenews/p/5-my-inner-critic-thinks-hes-too?r=2b8uel&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
Wow! This is great! And I thought I was original on Substack about having conversations with my inner critic.
Before Covid and long before Zoom was invented, I used to teach one2one photography. Before any "class" taking place, I would have set up a meeting with the future student in a coffee shop of student's choice. I would ask for the student to bring a camera and I always had with me a photo of a pink flower on a blue background. One of my first statements to the student was: "I cannot teach you what to photograph, I can teach you only how to capture what you see and maybe, just maybe, how to look at the subject from a different perspective". Straight away I could see a surprised face, the kind of asking in the back of the head "What the hell are we doing here, then?"
Me: "Ok, have a look at this flower. Do you think it's beautiful?"
Student: "Yes, of course, it's a beautiful flower. Where did you take that photo?"
Me: "Good. Now, what colour is that flower?"
Student: "Pink"
Me: "Very good. Now let me explain. I don't see that flower beautiful ..."
Student: "What?!"
Me: "I said I don't see it beautiful, I didn't say I see it ugly. All I see is a flower, that's it. And I don't see it pink, I see it gray"
Student: "What?!"
I would have taken the student camera (I'm very confident with any digital camera) take a photo of the flower in b&w and blow it on the screen untill it showed just a petal on the part of the background. Being in b&w, everything was shades of gray.
This is how my teaching process starting, by explaining to studends that I cannot see for them, I can only guide but they have to see for themselves and live with their choice. I had only one guy who didn't want to go further as he tought than I'm going to give him few hard lesson (which he had to learn by heart) on what settings to use for certain scenarios.
Thank you for your comment! First, I now know I'm not vomitting into the void.
Second, you're making a good point -- "I cannot see for them. I can only guide them. But they have to learn to see for themselves and live with their choice."
I'm writing that sentence down in my commonplace journal as I'm typing this. I'm an old-world multitasker.
I think if you're an instructor at a school which teaches a particular form or style, and the student signed on to that school, then you're both required to do your best to work in that form or style - while working on projects for/within that school. If coming out of that program signifies you have learned a specific thing, then you're both obligated to do your best with that. But otherwise: I think an art teacher's job is to encourage and inform an artist so that they can do what they want to do. Certainly tell the artist your fears or alternatives or objections - but then try to see what they are doing, and help them do it. Because: who knows? There are as many different types of art as there are artists. Or maybe it's flawed -- but the flaws are outweighed by some other magic. That happens a lot. Hopefully your observations will percolate in them and come out as their own particular brew, and you will have helped that be stronger and more delicious. Making your own mistakes may actually be the definition of art.
Thanks so much, Glenn! That's exactly what I needed to hear.
No particular form or style in the school I'm mentoring at. I'm just trying to guide them to be the best they can be while helping them understand that screenplays (or stories in general) are not written by winging it. There's a definite method to the madness -- anyone who likes movies and watches them regularly will attest to that -- but I've become much more open to different methods, and even different madnesses. :)