44. WHAT TO DO?
THE METER IS RUNNING
After becoming acquainted with my Russian Hill neighborhood and beginning to 'climatize' myself to city life, 'the meter was running.' I had a great apartment but no income. I needed to find a way to support myself.
I come from a family of teachers: my dad was a teacher as was my mom. My brother was a professor and my sister-in-law had been a junior high teacher. Even several of my cousins were teachers. But, oddly, I had never thought of being a teacher and hadn't been comfortable when I had attempted to do so.
So, I arrived in the city determined not to teach. I was desperate to find a job that wasn't repugnant to me.
'PLAN A'
I did have an inkling of a plan. The city is a place of commerce and I thought maybe that's where my future lie. As a graduate student and when I was teaching at Happy Valley, I experimented with woodworking and building very simple furniture...
I thought I would use my experience with woodworking and furniture to find a suitable job. Maybe I could work in some kind of shop or perhaps even sell furniture in a Scandinavian design store that I had seen downtown. After giving it some thought, I found my heart wasn't really in commerce. That idea went out the window...
'PLAN B'
Then I had an inspiration: I have an MFA degree and know a lot about art...I'll work in an art gallery. That should be a good fit.
I went from gallery to gallery looking for a position.
Each time I walked away contemplating the same answer. 'We don't need someone who knows something about art, we need someone who knows something about selling! What's your sales experience?' Uh...
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In my infinite naivete, I eventually comprehended that they were looking for no-holds-barred car salesmen, not MFA degrees.
I had made the rounds of downtown art galleries and was definitely deflated when I walked into the last gallery on Sutter Street.
This gallery director finally gave me a reality check as well as some sound advice: he said that with my background and experience I was 'barking up the wrong tree.' He suggested I visit the art school down the street, the Academy of Art College, and look into a teaching position. The director understood that they occasionally hired new faculty and, considering my background and strengths, that might be my best bet.
This was not what I was expecting...or wished to hear. But my options, by this point, were extremely limited. The bottom line was I needed employment. My alternatives had run out. Down Sutter street, I trekked.
MY LAST BET
I walked in and inquired. The dean of the school said no positions were available. Then, out of curiosity, he asked me what my field of expertise was. I answered, watercolor. He hesitated a moment, perked up, and replied: 'As a matter of fact, we need a watercolor instructor. Bring us a resume and an outline for the course and we'll consider it.'
I went back to my apartment, worked like crazy through the night, and the next day brought the dean a resume and an outline for the course. I was hired!
I went back to my apartment, worked like crazy through the night, and the next day brought the dean a resume and an outline for the course. I was hired!
There was one catch. The position was part-time....a once-a-week Saturday watercolor class. While I had my foot in the door, teaching one class didn't provide enough income to live on. Off I went looking for an additional job.
Copyright (c) Donald Archer 2020 All rights reserved.
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