In the mid-1970s I was still living at home with my parents. A college friend (Gerald Gladney, who later became an editor at Anchor/Doubleday Press) had bequeathed me an enlarger, timer, developing trays, a red safelight, and other darkroom paraphernalia that had belonged to his older brother, who seemed to have gotten momentarily involved in photography, and then consigned the equipment to the dust heap. Having gotten interested in photography myself, Gerry thought I might be able to put this equipment to better use than his brother. So he brought it all to my house one day, loaded into two cardboard boxes. My folks were good enough to allow me to turn the family kitchen into a darkroom overnight, just so long as I cleaned up by morning. (Supportive parents are always helpful in these scenarios. I already had my set of drums right there in the living room, and had been having band rehearsals in my parents house for years!) So armed with this equipment, a handful of pushpins and some black fabric purchased at the fabric shop downtown on Jamaica Avenue, I was in business.

And so it was that one night around ten o'clock I heard someone knocking at the back door which led to the kitchen, now my temporary darkroom. Lifting the black fabric to see who it was, I spied Toren Beasley, the younger brother of my friend Druis. At the time I was drumming for Druis's dance classes (as I was for several others), and had come to know her family. As he was a few years younger than I was, I hadn't had much of an exchange with her brother Toren. But here he was in the dead of night, at my door. When I opened the door, I saw that he was holding a roll of Tri-X film in his hand. When I said hello, he responded with, "My sister told me that you could show me how to develop this film." There were a lot of things that flashed through my mind that I could have told him, but what I did tell him was, "Come on inside."

I showed him how to develop the film that night, and how to make contact sheets and then prints on successive nights. He then wanted to shadow me and watch me make photographs after that, and this was something that I thought was akin to asking if he could watch while I engaged in some extremely private act...take your pick which one. It was the solitary nature of picture making that in fact appealed deeply to me, but nonetheless I let him tag along while I made a few pictures. Of course, there was no way I could make any serious pictures with this young man watching me intently, but I didn't let on, and probably made a bit more of it than I normally would have had I been by myself. We lived in the same neighborhood, so I continued to see him periodically. He always had the Nikon SP rangefinder camera with him that I later learned had belonged to his dad. After awhile I moved to Brooklyn and didn't see or hear from him after that.

Several years later, in 1983, I was invited to do a residency at Light Work, the photography residence program in Syracuse that was run then and now by Jeff Hoone. I had heard about Light Work from my friend Michael Spano, who had recently been there, and another friend, the late Sy Rubin, who had also done a residency there. Both suggested that I apply, and Sy took me with him on one of his annual trips to photograph the Syracuse State Fair that summer, and to introduce me to Jeff. During that trip, Jeff wanted me to meet the photographer who was currently in residence, and so we drove downtown to a small cafe, where I met James Welling. It took me years to understand, and then appreciate and really like what Jim was doing (photographing aluminum foil!!??), but I like Jim from the outset. Jeff and I planned for my return in a few months to do my own residency, and I left to go home to Brooklyn.

When I got back to Syracuse that fall, Jeff immediately told me that there was a young man who had been by looking for me, and that I should get in touch with him. "Who was he" I asked? Jeff replied, "Toren Beasley." As it turns out Toren had indeed remained interested in photography since I'd last seen him, and had just completed four years at Syracuse University (where Light Work is based) in the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications. He had graduated that past May. When I called him, he came by Light Work and we went to his home. he had since gotten married, and his wife Monica was pregnant with what would be their first child, Kai. Toren was also a little nervous, since with a child on the way, and a degree in hand, he was trying to figure out his next move. Seems I had arrived just in the nick of time to provide some much needed advise!

Not knowing Syracuse, I nonetheless began to get a sense for what he might do, and how he might move forward. I asked him what the top newspaper was in that city, and he told me it was the Syracuse Herald American. I suggested he call them up--cold--and make an appointment to show them his portfolio. Looking at his portfolio, it was apparent it could use a little fleshing out with a more focused group of pictures than he currently had. This time I actually asked him to come with me and make his own pictures while I made my work there in Syracuse (something I still didn't make a habit of doing, and still don't). After a couple of weeks of this, he had a nice group of pictures, which he began to print up and add to his portfolio. Having singled out the Herald American as the top spot in that city, I told him to do whatever was necessary to get his foot in the door there. I assumed (correctly) that the didn't have a black staff photographer, and since this was the late twentieth century, he might want to politely suggest to them that they might want to change that. He had a good enough portfolio to back it up. I seemed to have gotten him pumped up enough (and I'm sure the imminent arrival of the baby helped), that he talked his way into an appointment with the newspaper's editors. I left before his meeting with them, but told him to call me and let me know how it went.

Well, you know what happened...he got the job. Some time after that I got yet another excited call from Toren: he seemed to be such a go getter, producing such strong and consistent work, that they had asked him to become head of the photography department at the Syracuse Herald American! Still later, S.I. Newhouse (owner of the Syracuse Herald American and other papers nationwide) heard about Toren, and asked if he would coordinate the photographic coverage for Newhouse News for the the then upcoming presidential convention. Toren expertly marshalled the resources to see the situation through, bringing along Nick, a seasoned photojournalist at the paper, to help him set up a field operation at the convention in New York, transmitting pictures form their hotel room. The upshot of it was that through Beasley's efforts Newhouse News sold more photographs to print media than AP and UPI combined. At that point Newhouse decided to set up his own wire service in Washington, DC and tapped Toren Beasley to head it up. After two decades as direcor of photography at Newhouse News, Beasley is now Managing Editor, one of the few blacks at this level in the field. And he still has the energy and hustle of that young boy who showed up at my kitchen door thirty-three years ago.

I've got other stories like that from my years of teaching, and I'll share them with you periodically. I thought about it all again when the BA/BFA Photography exhibition and MFA Photography exhibitions opened at Columbia College Chicago on Friday. We also had our second year graduate photography reviews on Friday as well. At these reviews we were joined by institutional curators David Travis (AIC), Lynn Warren (MCA), Tricia Van Eck (MCA) and Natasha Egan (MoCP), and students had the benefit of their input as well. Spending an entire day immersed in the work these students are producing, and having the opportunity to watch them struggle, hopefully make breakthroughs, and present their culminating work at this point in their lives as artists, reminded me of what a potentially empowering thing teaching can be, and what can happen when students make a real focused and serious effort. It's what keeps me in it, and Friday's reviews and graduating student shows suggest how hard work and good solid support and criticism still yields impressive results.