Grades Are Good

I am taking a class.

I thought that the beauty of taking a class as an adult, a class that doesn't matter, was the lack of pressure! Go at your own pace! Do as much or as little as you feel appropriate! Don't even bother with the homework if you don't have time! Don't feel any pressure to actually show up! Spend absurd amounts of money and get nothing out of it if that's what you want!

No grades, no pressure, no future. Lovely!

I am finding, though, that I actually care about my photography class. I desperately want feedback. I want personal attention. I want to sit with the teacher and dissect my technique. I want him to be brutal, objective, and merciless. I want him to make suggestions. I want him to tell me I am a unique talent! I want him to exclaim "Brilliant!" when he sees my contact sheets that actually have pictures on them! I want something!!!!

I realize that this is impossible. Given the size of the class and the length of the classtime, it's unrealistic to think that anyone will be given individual attention. We can't go over everyone's photos. It would take forever. It would be boring. It would be futile.

I stayed late after class, hoping to ask the teacher if maybe I could come early to the next class to go over some things with him - show him some old photos, talk about my show, throw some ideas at him and have him tell me that they are great or that they are trite.

All the girls (think Indiana Jones, folks) and this one high maintenance older gentleman who's usually a riot (not on purpose) but who slept through the entire class remained behind.

Drat.

I'm timid. I waited while all the other girls asked their questions ("why are my photos printing out weird?" "what kind of tripod should I get?") and while high maintenance older gentleman asked for advice about photographing Park Ave. for some sort of professional endeavor (it seems that this man is a photographer but has no idea how to take pictures! I have to figure this out...).

I gave up and left, sad, not knowing if I'm any good.

Now.

Does it matter if he thinks I'm any good? No. I suppose it's up to me. I should monitor my progress and be able to assess if things are changing for the better.

But sometimes you want feedback! This is why, gasp, grades are good!!!!

I called R, who'd taken this class previously and who'd had similar complaints, and said "R, is it completely inappropriate for me to send him an email and ask if we could meet for coffee to discuss things?"

"Yes."

"CRAP!!!" I whined.

I want help. I want guidance. Assistance. Criticism. I want a massacre and then I want things to improve.

It's bizarre to actually care about something. It's been so long.