One of the best things about owning Purple Crayon is that I get to take all of the workshops, if there’s room. Up until a couple of years ago, there was almost always an extra seat, which wasn’t great for the business but was awesome for my personal growth! Nowadays, however, if I want to attend a class, I have to reserve a seat ahead of time.
That’s why I was excited when a workshop didn’t fill a few weeks ago. I hadn’t planned on participating, but when the opportunity presented itself, I couldn’t pass it up. I was familiar with the medium, as I had taken another workshop from the instructor the previous year and had taught a workshop using a similar technique a few years before that.
I hesitated before attending, as I remembered how challenging it was for me to teach that particular workshop, and how, as a result, I had decided not to do it again. I also remembered how much I struggled to complete my piece when I took the workshop from this instructor a few months ago. She was great, and I was pleased with the end result, but it validated my thinking that, clearly, this was not my medium.
Nevertheless, I always enjoy taking workshops and playing with other women, and there happened to be a seat available, so I jumped in.
Before and during the workshop, I let the other attendees know how much difficulty I had had in the previous classes, both as an instructor and a student. My intent was to make the other students feel better if they struggled, too, and it probably did.
It probably also contributed to their struggles, however, as the instructor kindly (and bravely!) pointed out later. She explained that, when I shared my previous experiences, instead of comforting the students, I inadvertently set up the expectation that everyone would find the workshop difficult. In essence, I had created a self-fulfilling prophesy.
The instructor had been an elementary school teacher in her “previous life,” and she had seen the phenomenon many times. Her young students would come into the classroom already believing that math was hard because that’s what they’d picked up from their previous teachers with math phobias. Because of this limiting thought, they were destined to struggle from the beginning. She spent weeks, and, in some cases, months, trying to dispel the myth, but, as in the workshop, she wasn’t always successful.
No one likes to hear that they’ve done something wrong, especially if it hurts other people, but I really appreciated that this instructor had had the courage to share her feedback with me. She had done it perfectly (privately, verbally, and with the intention of helping, not hurting, me), and, as a teacher myself, it made perfect sense.
So much so that I felt the experience warranted the focus of a newsletter! At some point, most artists explore different mediums, either to stretch ourselves or to find something else that clicks. The more open we are to possibilities, the more willing we are to experiment. Anything—or anyone—who discourages the effort can delay or derail the attempt.
The next time you see someone struggling with a medium that you’ve also struggled with, I encourage you to withhold your own experience (unless you’re offering a solution to a problem). While your support may temporarily comfort the other person, it may also prevent her from growing: a much longer-lasting gift.
If you think it might be time to explore a different medium, we've got some fun workshops coming up in June and July. A few are almost sold out, however, so don't wait too long to register!
I look forward to playing with you—and I promise I'll keep my opinions to myself!
—Pam Robbins, Owner
