I'd been looking forward to meeting James for a couple of weeks before our schedules finally meshed. We were to meet at six and I finish work at two. So I had some time to spend in the city. I decided to make photocopies of the brochure I'd finally finished and walk around a bit. Finding a photocopy shop proved harder than I'd imagined because prices were much higher than I'd imagined so by the time I gave up and decided to get a very late lunch I'd already walked a few miles in city heat.
There was a pizza place called Artichoke on E. 14th St between 2nd and 1st Ave that caught my eye. I wondered what time it was and pulled my Blackberry from my skirt (yeah, I was wearing a skirt, and I'm wearing one today and I wore one on Monday, too) pocket. Somehow it slipped from my hand and landed on the concrete. I wasn't too worried, Blackberrys, unlike blackberries, are known for their durability. So when I picked it up and the screen was white without a crack or scratch in sight I did what anyone else would do. First I tried to turn it off and then I took the battery out. No cigar. I'd broken my phone. The next hour made me think of Murakami's 1Q84 and I believed I could well have stepped into a coexisting parallel universe and the dead phone was the glitch that made it happen. But I wrote about that in my journal and this blog is no site for fiction.
The relevance of the broken phone is that I was about to meet someone I had never seen a photo of. He'd seen a photo of me, however, my gmail blogspot rawfictionfacebook photo is a me with a fro. I have short hair now. So I ran to a library and sent an email to let him know I had no phone, however, brilliantly, I failed to mention my hair and my outfit. So, when I got to Think Coffee, I was on the lookout for a potential James. There was a man sitting on a high stool at a high table and I thought, he could make a good James, but had an arrogant air about him. I bought an iced coffee and wandered around the tables. There was a guy in the back who looked like he was waiting for someone, he had no coffee or treat and looked nervous and a little bit scared. We made eye contact but I really didn't want him to be James. So I went to the front and took out my colorful brochure and flyer that I hadn't made any copies of and put them on the counter. Yes, I am Raw Fiction.
A couple of minutes later a dashing, laid-back man walks in. His energy was immediately warm. He didn't necessarily look like he was looking for someone but I wanted him to be James. I caught his eye (he was looking for a woman with a fro so it didn't immediately register that I could be Zahra) and brought his attention down to my flyers. He smiled, we shook hands. Whenever I'm around men with ideal physiques the feminine in me is immediately summoned and the masculine in me feels a sense of camaraderie (not that I have an ideal physique, but I think I make a cute boy/boi when I dress like one). He was wearing a grey t-shirt and navy shorts, we could have been in his living room with a couple of cans of beer watching a game; that's how comfortable he looked. And his appearance didn't contradict his personality. He's totally the kind of guy you'd be thrilled to have mentor your kid. And! he's into healthy (slow) food.
We sat down and I pitched my project. He asked questions and suggested that he take it to the staff of iMentor, an organization that pairs adults with teenagers across the city. They have about 2500 young people in their network, it's very possible a young writer is amongst them just waiting to benefit from project Raw Fiction. Thank you, James!
This is going to be a long blog. But yesterday was a long day full of like-minds and positive energy.
After parting from James -- boy-Z wanted a hearty handshake, girl-Z was all about the hug and awkward-Z just smiled foolishly and said 'how nice to meet you' more than a couple of times -- I headed home to change into my favorite shorts with lots of pockets, got on my bicycle and rode to Dumbo.
Smack Mellon is located under the Manhattan Bridge across from Brooklyn Bridge Park - Main Street. It's an artists' space and was hosting an ELNYA panel on connecting professional artists with teen artists. In a nutshell, it was a panel about mentoring artistic teenagers. I went with my friend Erica, of the Hetrick-Martin Institute (to read more about her see the blog with Erica in the title), thanks for the heads-up on this awesome event!
I'd say the most important thing that was said that I want to remember is to never forget that ART IS FREE OF AGENDAS. This was emphasized by Johnny Ramos of Media Fellows. Yes, realistically, we have to pitch our ideas to schools and to funders so our project descriptions cannot truly be agenda free (even Raw Fiction which attempts to circumvent agenda language but I'm gonna have to get in it dirty to apply for a grant) but when facilitating arts projects we have to remember it is the art that matters. Not the corporate savior jargon and pro-college, pro-institution, pro-conformity agenda. (Not that I'm necessarily anti all these entities, I just think we're all individuals and have independent needs.)
It's the same with mentoring, it's the bonds that are made that matter. It's what the mentor learns from the mentee and what the mentee learns from the mentor. The dynamic of relationships matter more than the goals written on paper.
Another supportive idea that was raised was Jobs Training in the Arts. "Engender a sense of pride - their work is good enough to be sold," said Hannah Berson of Exploring the Arts (ETA).
Yes, not just asking for grants but working to make a profit, attempting to self-fund. Which is impossible but an important part of managing a budget. What can we earn on our own? This project is a worthwhile business not a simple charity case.
The arts are gold and mentoring is priceless.
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