Hunter College offers an auditing program to New York residents over 60+ who may sign up for a class, tuition free, simply for the cost of registration ($80). No homework is required, no exams and no grades.

When it was my turn to meet with the enrollment admin in late January, I pulled out my list of art department choices that I’d found online. My helper looked at her computer, shook her head several times and said, “That one’s not offered this semester. This one is already full. Not seeing that one listed…”

The match finally happened when I mentioned a course called Everything is Personal. There was no accompanying description, but I thought it sounded interesting and was willing to find out. Bingo! There was one space left, and it was mine.

I excitedly showed up the following week to room 11003N on the Hunter campus. Envisioning a large lecture hall where I would anonymously slide into a seat in the rear, I would sit apart from the undergraduates and take notes. Rather, it was an intimate seminar room with a screen on one wall and a dozen seats around a U-shaped table arrangement.

My professor, who is new to the Hunter faculty, wasn’t aware of the auditing program and invited me to be a full participant, if I chose to, which I did. To prepare for Session 2, our homework instructions were to “Shoot, shoot, shoot!” We’d turn in 10-20 photos which would be evaluated the following week.

Here’s where my beginner feelings crept in. I’ve been taking photos on my iPhone ever since I bought my first one over a dozen years ago. They are mostly records of what I’ve seen, worked on, and whom I’ve spent time with. I do not fancy myself to be a Photographer, but I love images. I started a Hunter Class folder and eventually selected 20 pics from the over 200 I shot between the first two classes.

I wasn’t pleased.

I’ve seen wonderful photography, and this wasn’t it. There’s an uncomfortable gap between taste and talent, and I was firmly there. I didn’t know how to get There. This will not come as a surprise, but there is no bible for becoming a good photographer. It’s in the doing.

I received faint praise for the images above, but easily discerned the heartier praise bestowed on my classmates’ presentations.

“These could make a nice beginning,” my professor said singling out the three shots above.

I wanted to hear, “You’ve got great instincts!” or “What a good eye you have!” similar to the compliments directed at one young woman’s photos.

I’m not proud of this, but wanted to share this side of me that you may not have seen before.

A significant percentage of my drive comes from my desire for approval. Yes, I get enormous satisfaction from watching my artwork “sing,” but ultimately, external praise feels essential to complete the process.

For Session 3, I chose “My Streets” as my theme. The day after praise-less Session 2, I walked to my local library taking notice of possible subject matter, clicking multiple times along the way.

My self-talk was rough: that’s too obvious; anyone could capture this; what’s interesting about THAT?

But, fortunately, after years of saying positive affirmations and self-esteem building, a more important voice took over. I remembered a friend sharing wisdom from her journalism graduate school days: “Notice what YOU notice” – a mantra I’ve reminded myself of over the years. I know I have a good eye, that what I see in the world isn’t what everyone else sees. How I record that and share it with you, reflects that. I started looking around my neighborhood with that perspective.

The critic continued to carp, but I shushed her and kept at it. I started to like what I was recording.

During the second class we also talked about asking people if we might photograph them as subjects. I decided to give that a try. At the Inwood branch of the New York Public Library, I approached the clerk at the checkout desk and asked if I might take his picture for my class. He was so delighted that I bravely also asked the crew of young security guards the same question. Suddenly, I started enjoying the assignment.