Last week, I left off at a very critical point in my search for identity. Communications degree in hand, internship under my belt, demo reel under my arm and a head full of dreams. But also, a pocketful of lousy advice from “seasoned experts” which had a negative effect on a still developing, fragile sense of self. “You’re not wanted or needed, the competition is too great. Go to law school!” “You can’t do everything!” Nobody wants that! One thing only. Focus on ONE thing and that’s who you are!” Who was I? What one talent/skill could I pick and run with? I wasn’t confident enough to decide. So went you can’t decide, you work in retail.
Luckily that only lasted a little over a year when I got a break from my cousin’s college career center. He found an ad for a recent college grad to work as an assistant for a home based production company in Port Washington. This was the perfect first job, not only because I was given some leeway to learn certain equipment, but because all of the things I could do was welcomed and used every day. I was shooting, editing, making props and even puppeteering on a blue screen.
Since I was following my boss’ lead, my identity as assistant held firm until four words changed everything: “What do you think?” Those words meant I grew, I proved myself, I was valued. That day, I became an editor. I also got back in touch with my love of photography from high school and early college doing darkroom work as part of my job.
After six wonderful years, it was time to move on to a bigger company with a bigger paycheck and medical benefits. This was the start of what I’ll call my dark years because I entered with the confidence of my experience and abilities, but somehow, a master manipulator of a boss was able to devalue my sense of worth as well as my co-workers’ to a point that I believed this is what this business had become in 1999 and I was disgusted to the point that I wanted nothing to do with it anymore. So I left, changed careers, but could never put out that creative fire in me. That was who I was and I couldn’t kill it, no matter how much I tried to distance myself from it. It plagued my heart and soul for nearly two years until I had to give in to my truth.
It was a slow climb back as I worked on my Photoshop skills and tried learning HTML coding. Thanks to my cousin (again) and a Senior Producer willing to give me a chance, I became Audiovisual Coordinator for the Public Information Department at ASME (American Society of Mechanical Engineers). There I used the archiving and research skills I learned at my first job, worked heavily on graphics for print and video and assisted on video shoots. Strangely, because of my dark years, I was reluctant to pick up the camera or work at our editing station. I limited my identity at the time to digital graphic artist and sometimes photographer. After I was assigned a solo trip to Washington D.C. to shoot ASME’s president speak before a congressional board and edit a Video News Release (VNR) on Final Cut Pro for the first time, the Executive Director downsized the company and wiped out half our department. So I finally worked up the courage to go back to what I did best and I was out on the street.
Identity: unemployed.
So how long did that last and am I ever going to explain what a cinematic craftsman is? I promise, next week!
In the days of analog editing with 3/4 inch tape. My first production job at Folklife Productions, 1993.
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