Taking Risks in Composition

This was their valuable lesson: the best way to teach is by demonstration. Perched on edges above white spaces, the ski instructor said, "Everybody put your hands forward as I have mine, feel your boot-top against your shins, and keep your upper body square with the fall-line." Then he skied a few turns, stopped, and said, "Now you do it." The pottery instructor gave similar instruction. He made a pitcher-too quickly for our slow eyes to see-and then made another, saying, "Now you do it. Make twelve for next week's critique and have them all out in front of you on the table." As a novice skier and potter, I knew my chances for failure loomed, but I also knew what I had to do: first, I had to watch that instructor very carefully. Then I had to try it, imagining myself in that instructor's skin, leaning my body down the slope or centering my shoulders over the clay. A few falls and some funny-looking pots did not surprise anyone. At first most of the class failed in more ways than they succeeded. Nobody laughed; we were too sympathetic as we surveyed our pitchers, pointed out the most and least successful, discussed them, and heard the instructor and classmates offer their criticism. Criticism and suggestions became important as they involved us more immediately in the process. Throughout all this I noticed one reassuring thing: my ski instructor could fall down and get up again. What he was doing on that slippery hill Photo Credit: Tolleson Union High School Photo Lab