Our theme for the month of March is “How to.”
Finding a good routine can be satisfying and life-giving, yet can simultaneously leave one with a lack of spontaneity or excitement in their day-to-day life. My go-to solution? Amateurism.
The word “amateur” has two meanings: someone who practices an activity for pleasure, as opposed to a professional; and someone who isn’t particularly skilled at a given activity, as opposed to an expert. The blended connotation of the two meanings is relevant for the following guide—you should be doing something for pleasure, and you should be kind of bad at it.
Step 1: Be inspired to learn a specific new skill.
Perhaps your bike regularly needs repairing and you can’t afford to take it to the shop each time (bike mechanic class—a potential summer activity). Perhaps you’re curious about a strange-sounding national language (Dutch class). In the specific case of this guide, I found someone sketching attractive, read a blog on how crushes are often just misplaced ambition, and subsequently enrolled in a drawing class. However you do it, find something that motivates you, and sign yourself up.
Step 2: Show up without too many expectations for yourself.
You’re here for fun, and you’ve never done it before—at least in this sort of setting. Be kind to yourself, and don’t take yourself too seriously. In the beginning, set your standard for success at being present and trying. Laugh frequently at your own mistakes. Talk back to yourself when necessary.
My drawing classes were with live nude models, and I often drew the most horrendous renditions of our models. I hadn’t taken an art class since the eighth grade, and I rarely sketched on my own accord. I snapped pictures of my worst works, texted them to my friends, and moved on.
Step 3a: At some point, tone down the laughter.
This step is challenging, and in some ways more vulnerable than Step 2. You’re still early on— but you need to start trusting in your ability to genuinely accomplish something and taking yourself just a little more seriously. As my drawing professor told me when I came into class with my previous works (including the poor aforementioned sketches) haphazardly shoved in a folio, “the first person who’s going to respect your work is you.” Revise your previous standard of success: be present, be trying, and be respectful of your own efforts. Maybe some part of you doubts that your work really merits respect, but if you don’t learn to set this question aside, you may just hold yourself back from any progress.
Step 3b: Appreciate the work of other amateurs.
As you learn to valorize your own imperfect work, seek out the amateur work of others. There are so many people creating for the sheer joy of creation—people sewing their own clothes, or DJ-ing, or assembling hodge-podge bikes on the weekend. If you find gigs or exhibitions from other amateurs, check them out; they’re often free or cheap, and usually have a wildly different energy from those of professionals. Exchange with your friends and family about their own hobbies and creative outlets—you might be surprised by what the people around you are creating in their free time.
Step 4: Invite other people to share in your accomplishments.
When my art academy held an exhibition at the end of the year, I felt a little silly about inviting my friends. Sure, I’d embraced vulnerability with myself (and by necessity with my drawing professor). But I hadn’t really shared my work with others except for a laugh over my failures. I finally shared invitations to the exhibition, and when my friends did come, I was so struck by the feeling of being cared for.
Let the people that you care about see you in your amateurism. They will appreciate the opportunity to know you better through it. When they reciprocate this vulnerability by sharing their own amateur works, the fondness you feel for them will help you understand why.
Step 5: Eventually, make a bigger commitment.
This step isn’t possible for every amateur activity. Frankly, it’s the one I’m worst at. I love being new to something; everything is exciting, and progress is easy. As you gain experience in a particular skill, you may find that the level of effort you were previously investing in order to progress is no longer getting you anywhere new; you’ve hit the dreaded “plateau.” As a result, you might not be so motivated to regularly keep up your amateur activity.
I’m a big believer in following your motivation, so when you find yourself at a plateau, take a moment to check in with yourself. Are you still excited about your activity? If so, ramp it up! Find other amateurs you can exchange with and learn from, or start practicing in a new way.
Alternatively: Return to Step 1
Maybe you like this new skill you’ve learned, but you don’t feel excited about continuing it regularly. That’s okay too! Let this particular act of creation become more sporadic; when you pick it back up, it’ll feel like coming home to an old version of yourself. And when inspiration strikes in a different sector, become an amateur once again, and keep chasing the exhilaration of the new.
Rylan Shewmaker (‘21) calls herself a geographer, though none of her degrees substantiate this. After growing up in Texas and studying in Grand Rapids, she moved to Brussels, Belgium, for her master’s degree in urban studies. She still lives in Brussels and works for a housing non-profit. She enjoys audiobooks, bike commuting, sunny days, and learning new things.
