That Time I Got Raked Over the Coals
...for following the ground rules
“There are no two words in the English language more harmful than "good job.” - Terence Fletcher | Whiplash
The year was 2001, I was 41, and working for my mentor. I had been picked out of class to assist in shooting mostly black and white film on her weddings. It was extremely thrilling and disquieting simultaneously. I had also picked up work, as a freelance, through a publication called “Studio Magazine.”
My mentor had an exceptional reputation in the wedding photography industry, was married to a notable editorial photographer, (whose clients included Time, People, Smithsonian, Nat Geo, Nike, Disney, etc., you get the picture… no punn intended) and, as mentioned, she was my teacher.
Although she was 10 or more years my senior, I knew only the reputation of the “bag-carrying” students and photography assistants. I hustled like the 18 year olds in my classes. You know when our mind says, “I’m just a student?” Well, it comes with the feeling that you say little and work hard. I have a strong extrovert/introvert personality. When I assisted for anyone whose clients were not my own, I was on the polite downswing toward introvert with a smile.
As an older woman, unknowingly breaking into the photography industry, I already knew the art of respect, because I was teaching it to my three children every day.
In retrospect, I would have given the world to have been my mentor’s close friend, but my brain said “humble student.” I received incredible opportunities to shoot as a fly on the wall with rolls and rolls of black and white film and was not expected or allowed to associate with my mentor’s clients. I knew this first-hand, on my first job. During “wedding party formals” I went to scoot my body forward from the floor to help a little flower girl. I had been positioned for the candids. Immediately I was scorned, her arm flew in front of me, “only I touch the client.” Lesson learned. Click the shutter. Be polite. Be even more respectful. I was in learn mode and I was hungry to learn.
I didn’t get told I did a good job much, which served to make me work harder. I understood.
Several jobs in, my mentor, like a good bird mom, told me to fly. At the end of a long day in Pasadena, California, dragging our equipment to the parking lot I heard, “you know you should get a domain as soon as you can.” A domain? what’s that? I thought. She saw my face and said “the sooner you begin to set-up a website the better.”
Oh,
a website. hummm…
I will never forget that. She believed in me and she must have trusted me. After all, we would both be working in the same area. Back then, and for many years prior, very few new photographers or artists would ever think to “compete.” We did our work, relied on referrals and tried never to step on our counterpart’s toes. Especially a mentor. As the digital age exploded, all of that changed.
In fact, at our next job my mentor began to repeat to me, “you better get ready to go digital. You need to get on board.” I loved shooting film and really admired her arsenal of Nikon film cameras. “Why don’t you try it?” I thought.
It was at that job her equipment broke down and film ran out. She threw me her keys as I threw her one of my cameras. The couple was just about to enter the reception! I ran to her car to fetch more film. That’s what assistants do.
I would usually get a call or an email letting me know how I did on a job, once the film was developed, which was nice. I appreciated feedback. A few weeks after that job I got an email saying “my clients are buying a lot of black and white.” I felt really honored to think that her clients liked my work, however it was protocol that “all work” was to represent the said photography company’s work. This was a standard thing. My freelance wedding work was the same, under contract, and not to be used as my own or for a portfolio.
I did, however, ask permission to use a few black and whites for my website if possible as I did’t have any wedding work of my own, and as much as that question was risky, it was my mentor that told me to get a website. She said I could use about half a dozen and I was thrilled.
Later on, in my career, I passed that favor on to my assistants.
It wasn’t long before we were on a big elegant job, with very well-known industry vendors. As a result we were treated to an excellent “vendor meal” in a gorgeous historical dining room. My mentor was in her element and I had honestly never seen her go full-tilt personality. I was usually in respectful work mode, but during a particular moment, as she burst into a joke, laughing out loud, I joined in, laughing too (as people do) and said, “oh my gosh. I never knew you were so funny.”
We finished the job and parted ways.
The following week I received a very long email from my mentor citing how “if I had only known her, or tried to be her friend” I might have known she was funny. She was hurt and said she could no longer work with me and never wanted to see me again.
I was honestly stunned. As I write this 23 years later, it feels more surreal than real now. The fact that I got in a hot shower and cried my eyes out. A grown mother of three, running car-pools, doing all the mom details of life, editing images into the wee hours after the kids went to bed (I had established my own portrait work) leaving my family every weekend to learn an art, working for nothing but opportunity (no income) I respected every chance I got to become something I had never imagined. This person took my heart and trashed it.
I sat down a week later and wrote the kindest letter. I apologized (as British people do all the time for anything and nothing) She held ground and never spoke to me again.
I write all of this now, especially after experiencing family estrangement, to say there is much we can work on within ourselves. It’s a natural process. An important self-improvement lesson we should take. However, we can only own so much.
It stung for years. I had to watch as other people I knew and worked around remained friends with her and even worked with her. (sidebar: a familiar and painful part of family estrangement is life goes on around you as family members drive past your home, get together, plan events without you… and yeah).
I couldn’t say anything to anyone, except my best friend and my husband. I did, however, credit her for pushing me out of the nest and for my love of the editorial style. I have spoken fondly to strangers about my only mentor and kindly paid it back over and over, mentoring many.
In life, other people will set the ground rules for you. You will follow them. From personal relationships to work environments we will bob up and down in a sea of emotions trying to navigate our way through.
My mentor set the ground rules. They were clear. I followed them. I respected her.
When the switch was flipped, I didn’t understand what was happening.
It was a form of abuse. I recognize this now. I see it clearly. It was meant to hurt.
Hurting people hurt others. The last thing you want to do is hurt them back.
I can’t pay for that kind of energy. We can’t own the problems of others.
We can pray for those who come against us in their suffering.
And walk forward…
P.S. This is a story for “everyday relationships”>> It does not involve physical abuse of any kind or serious mental abuse. It’s a story for surviving the everyday and one that can be taken upon in the healing process of all relationships. Forgiveness is a process and a gift to survival. Writing it out is important and healing.
Her reaction was totally uncalled for.
The Mentor wasn't meant to be your friend despite the artistic impression she painted in her last words. Being told you're funny is usually a good thing & of course laughter is the best medicine!
Her loss!!