You know, I signed up for pottery class because I thought it would be a nice break. Four hours (including transportation), every week, when I am not with my toddler. The first week, it felt strange to be away from her for such a big chunk of the day, but the second week I don’t know if I thought about her at all. (Why yes, I am a candidate for Mother of the Year, thank you for asking!)
It’s definitely a break from my usual daily routine of extreme parenting, but I don’t know how nice of a break it is. The truth is, pottery class stresses me out. I feel horrible about this – I took a chance, signing up for something completely new and outside my comfort zone (of spending what little free time I have with my ass in a chair, either reading or writing snappy emails and wordy blog entries); I spent what was, for me and my husband, a lot of money on this class; I was really, really looking forward to the entire experience. And while there are parts of it I honestly do like, my teacher stresses me out so much the experience has been sapped of much of its enjoyment.
I feel like a wuss admitting this. Really, it’s unlike me to be offended by anyone else’s brusqueness. I am a fairly straightforward person myself. I’m not easily overwhelmed. I don’t like being coddled, and I don’t want or expect false praise. But when you’re a beginner at anything – and I am a beginning potter in the true sense of the word, never having touched raw clay before this class – it is really not helpful to have someone standing over you, saying things such as “What do you think you’re doing?” and “You know I cannot do this for you.” Oh, and my personal favorite: “You may feel like a retard now, but you’ll get it eventually” (yes! Direct quote! I know, it’s almost impossible to believe that someone hasn’t given this woman her own children’s show on PBS).
As in any abusive relationship, there are apologies afterwards (“I know I can be kind of cranky or bitchy sometimes, I hope you understand that I really do think you’re doing well, and that’s why I’m pushing you”), but overall it’s just way more anxiety than I care to admit into my life for what was supposed to be a nice break. When I know the instructor is watching me, I feel jumpy and nervous, and inevitably make more mistakes than I would otherwise. I feel like one of those kids who has trouble reading aloud in class, whose teacher berates her so much that even after she learns to read satisfactorily, she probably has a lifelong stutter and paranoia about reading anything out loud.
If you’re still with me, and haven’t ditched this entry after four solid paragraphs of whining, let me just add that our instructor also answers and talks on her cell phone at least twice during our three-hour class sessions. I know we all lead very busy lives and all, and she has a job apart from teaching pottery classes (probably a good thing, in her case), but really – unprofessional, right?
We’ve also had a few rather bizarre conversations about my ethnicity, of all things. We’re three for three so far. In our first class, she asked me where I like to go for authentic Chinese food. I replied that I’m not Chinese, but named the restaurant where we usually go – which I figured she wouldn’t like, since she said she preferred this gross pan-Asian place that has since closed (good thing; it made me sick the one time I went there).
In our second class, I happened to be wearing this shirt, and she asked, “Are you Korean?” I answered in the affirmative. “Oh!” she said. “My doctor is Korean.” Uh-huh. Bringing your Korean acquaintance count up to…two, apparently.
In our third class, she showed us the stencils we would be using to carve our initials into the bottom of our pieces, so we knew which were ours. She saw me writing “NC” on the bottom of one of my bowls, and suddenly exclaimed, “You know, you should write your name in Korean!”
I think I just gaped at her for a second or two, because, you know, my name is “Nicole” – and she knows it. Nicole. Greek, French, definitely Western; there’s no direct Korean translation. Then she said, hilariously, “I could ask my doctor how to write it if you don’t know how.” I was just like, oh, yes! Please do that! That would not be awkward at all (for you)!
(Actually, because all Koreans do, in fact, know each other, I happen to be acquainted with her doctor. I think she speaks a little Korean; I’m not sure if she writes it. Either way, wow. Just wow.)
So, pottery class stresses me out. I do not come home feeling refreshed and relaxed and stimulated; I come home feeling exhausted, a little bit stiff, and annoyed as hell. And do I really need more stress in my life, from something that was meant to be my fun, lighthearted break from toddler-chasing? I don’t think of myself as a quitter, but right now I’m of two minds about the whole thing. I like the bowls I’ve made thus far, and I want to glaze them next week and actually see a finished product the week after. I want to spend more time at the wheel and also try some hand-building. I still love pottery, and I’d like to learn more about it, irritating teacher notwithstanding. But honestly, when I think about going back next week, I don’t feel any real anticipation, just dread.
It’s a tug-of-war between my curiosity and my impatience, my stubbornness and my “to hell with you” impulse. At this point I’m really not sure which will win out.
That really sucks. I know how hard it would be for me to try something new I’ve never done (I like to be the best before beginning… a la Monica), and can’t imagine being chastised like that.
That woman is NOT a teacher, and I guess we just have to be thankful that she isn’t working with young children.
Next time you sign up for a class (whether it’s pottery, photography, or flower arranging), let me know. I’ve been too afraid to sign up on my own and there’s power in numbers.
-Abby
Thanks, Abby. It is a bummer, because I really do like pottery – the little I’ve learned of it so far – and my classmates are awesome and supportive. I’m thinking it’s worth a phone call to the studio to just explain the situation. At the very least, this woman should not be teaching beginners.
As my husband pointed out last night while I was venting to him, we’re not in a proper art school majoring in ceramics. Some of us are brand-new and others are intermediate, but no one is even at the point where they are selling pieces. To create this much needless stress in a roomful of relative beginners is really uncalled for.
I don’t know if I’m more pissed off or sad for you. A pottery class has been on my radar for years now, and I was so excited when you wrote about starting one. I can’t believe how this woman is acting.
I’m sure some of the other studio instructors are better. It has shaken my faith in the whole studio, though, to know that they let this person teach a beginners class, you know? I plan to call today to explain what’s going on (especially if I decide not to go back after this), but it strikes me as an artists-coven sort of place where they stick together and won’t really care if their students feel attacked.
I have to agree with Abby: “That woman is NOT a teacher.” It’s really annoying too, because I think your class should be something educational, inspiring, and pleasant, even a bit relaxing. I hope there’s a way for you to continue learning pottery in the future without this person.
Thanks, Cat. I think if I have to deal with this instructor again I will probably say something I’ll regret. But maybe there’s a way to join another class or something. I have to say, my enthusiasm for the whole endeavor has really dimmed.
She sounds like someone who has no experience with people of different ethnicities, but yet wants to establish herself as a good guy–trying to show that she is open to others, she ends up offending. It seems to me like maybe she’s likely curious and interested in you and your experiences (but socially inept just the same) and she’s trying too hard.
Either that, or she’s just plain weird.
I commented on lj–but I think you said once that that doesn’t show up here. So I’ll copy here…
It does sound like the instructor needs some serious rehab on her interpersonal relationship style. I’m sorry the class is turning out to be a disappointment.
Thank you for the thoughtful comment, Barbara.
I don’t imagine for a moment that she’s trying to be offensive with the comments on my ethnicity (though, you have to understand, based on some of her OTHER comments, I know she doesn’t really think or care about who she offends). Of course you are right, it’s most likely just good intentions and awkwardness, combining to make me feel singled out and uncomfortable.
I DO think it’s telling if the only two Koreans you know in an area as diverse as this is (1) your doctor and (2) a student in your class. I grew up in a town so white, I just took it for granted that I was the only Asian girl most of my friends knew and interacted with. But at my college, or here in the Triangle for that matter, it seems a little peculiar to only know two of us.
I think it’s really peculiar, too. Something’s not right about that. Still, she doesn’t seem to care if she offends people, even if she’s not actually trying to offend, so maybe people avoid her. I would!
Hi Nikki, I stumbled on to your blog from Facebook. When I first started reading this entry, I thought I would tell you about my experience taking a watercolor class last fall. I realized that if your paintings weren’t that great, the teacher would give you a lot of praise (like, you have such a good sense of color!, and, your paintings are so…refined), but if you were a really good painter, she would offer suggestions and critiques. So, I thought, maybe you are actually a really great potter, since your teacher is being critical.
Then I read the rest of your post, and I think that our cases are perhaps not that comparable, since my teacher was kind and gentle, and your teacher is, um, not. You should definitely call the studio out. As a non-artist, I had a good time in my art class, as all beginners should. (I took a community college enrichment class).
Hey Kelly, thanks for the comment – and for reading my boring blog. I hope you are well and enjoying life in my beautiful home state.
I’m glad you had such a good teacher when you took your watercolor class. I’ve also taken various classes as a beginner and really enjoyed them – hopefully I will again someday. I’ll give pottery another try one of these days, too.