how shooting film turned me into a better teacher

I began shooting film at roughly the same time that I took on the role of photography teacher. The summer of 2014 was one that saw me in a deep creative rut. I was dissatisfied with my images and dissatisfied with the process of taking pictures. Once I knew I would be teaching introductory photography classes, all of my energy went to creating content, writing syllabi, and navigating the steps of being a new teacher.

My own work suffered.

I can’t even recall what small voice spoke to me to guide me toward film, but at a time that felt very uncreative, the idea of creating a new experience around my photography was thrilling. It took one roll (after three false starts), and I was hooked.

And suddenly here I was, alongside my students, in spirit at least, learning something new.

That experience, of learning while I was teaching, taught me so much. And the experience of shooting film continues to teach me.

Film slows me down. It makes me make more intentional choices and it helps me be more present with my experiences. Those lessons I pull from shooting film, even outside of the actual work itself, began to resonate in the classroom. I slowed down and listened more. I began to guide my students the way I guided myself when making images. Pay attention. Make one shot at a time. Be gentle with your mistakes.

Most importantly, my own journey through shooting film has reminded me how vulnerable we need to be to open ourselves up to trying and learning something new. In a world of thumbs up and likes, it can be very hard to fail, but shooting film has taught me how to fail over and over again. Letting go of the end result and trusting instead in the process makes this possible. And it’s the process that teaches you the most.

Most importantly, by allowing myself to be vulnerable enough to not only learn something new but to fail at it over and over again, I learned how to create a space for my students to be vulnerable too.

It’s scary to open yourself up to new experiences. It’s scary to fumble where once you felt sure footed. And it’s scary to do it with other people watching. But when you step into that space of feeling vulnerable and open yourself up to sharing your own process and your own story, even your own failures… well that’s when you’re mining for gold. Ad that gold will enrich you again and again.