Letting It Flow
As someone who works as a professional mentor in various capacities, I know first-hand both how delicate, as well as fluid, a mentor/mentee relationship can be. The possibilities are endless – particularly when there really isn’t an end point or result to be gained. Exploration is possible, as well as an opportunity for companionable confidence-building in the process of figuring out why two people come together in a certain circumstance, at a certain time, in a certain place.
Photo by Anna Hints
I was so happy to become a part of this year’s cohort of WIFT mentees, an incredibly unexpected occurrence because I’d only been in Finland for such a short while. It gave me a much-needed boost because I’ve discovered trying to settle here as a foreigner can be difficult, alienating, and lonely. (It’s not just Finland, it’s anywhere where you really don’t belong but you’re there because – well, life provides strange and circuitous routes sometimes.)
The other great thing was being chosen by Katri Aksola. I know first-hand at this point what it feels like to experience the marginalization and “shrinkage” that happens for ageing women in the professional realm, particularly one in which you have a public-facing role and career, and one in which the milieu itself is always hungry for the young, the emerging, the fresh-faced. As an executive casting director mostly working with young talents, Katri, although two decades younger than I, resonated with this element of life that I’m dealing with – in a new country, a new culture, a very disorienting and confusing transition into a different phase of life. And just when everything dovetails professionally, personally, and creatively in the sort of way you’d always hoped! But the actual experience of this exclusion – which is talked about and parsed in every woman’s magazine and journal, written about in books, and acknowledged as something very real, even by men – is mighty painful, and you only truly feel that pain when you get there.
There’s often a quite severe effect of dissociation, a process of disconnecting from one’s thoughts, feelings, memories, or sense of identity as one ages. An example: when the photos and bios of the five mentees were published on the WIFT Finland website, mine was the only entry in which I used “she”, a subject pronoun, when describing myself. Every other woman represented used “I” to describe herself. Along with being an obvious generational and stylistic marker, I found myself a bit embarrassed about it, something I’m sure probably no one else noticed or thought anything of, but wow, that really struck me. I had to stop myself from asking if I could re-write it, but it was already out there, so I let it stand.
When Katri and I, after getting acquainted a bit at the Cable Factory orientation meeting, made plans for our first meeting a week later, she suggested I come to her offices in Sörnäinen. I was prepared for us to sit in some boardroom and hash out an action plan based on the five themes of mentorship we were presented with:
Q: Where am I professionally right now? Other aspects of life? A: I don’t know!
Q: What is/are my goal(s)? Where am I going in professional life (and other aspects)? A: I don’t know!
Q: What does this program mean to me? A: I don’t know! (yet)
Q: What are the barriers I need to cross to reach those goals?
A: So many!
And the question Katri asked me before we met:
Q: What would be first concrete steps to attain those goals? A: My response to that – besides a general request for confidence building – was the following:
Integrating into some sort of small social sphere (that might have something to do with what I do – or not) that's comfortable for me here in Helsinki so I feel I have a small network of acquaintances and friends, foreign and local alike, that I can count on to go to things together since I’m super tired of doing things by myself.
Since writing that message, this is slowly being accomplished in various ways in the form of yet another mentorship through Föreningen Luckan that will start in late October, a Finnish-Swedish information and cultural center here that offers an integration program with information and counselling, workshops, social gatherings and mentoring for immigrants to Finland – a different, maybe more practical, mentorship since folding oneself into the culture and society here is more of an uphill climb than I imagined. As well, through Luckan’s CIRKELN program, I’ve been matched with four other women to form a social group based on applications that included descriptions of what we like to do in our free time for fun and enjoyment. I was matched with a woman from Hong Kong, one from Japan, one from Morocco, and one from India. And me: the token white lady from America. All have been here for varying amounts of time and in different circumstances, but I’m super excited about meeting them all.
The second goal I expressed to Katri was that I wanted to take some preliminary steps towards learning how to enter the voice-over or voice talent market for English speakers here. As a casting executive, she immediately connected me with someone and had a few other suggestions. Like the meek person I am, I wrote the contact she gave me a long email explaining who I was and blah, blah, blah – one of my infamous long emails that go on and on and on, displaying a dreadful habit of sharing too much information. I’ve yet to hear anything back.
I’ve learned that sometimes Finns just don’t return emails at all. Maybe this is due to said abundance of sharing and it’s all just too much. Or something gets lost in translation and they just don’t know where to begin. Or my email goes into someone’s spam folder because the email I’ve been using forever can sometimes be interpreted by AI as some kind of penis enlargement ad – pfunknmrk – understandable. So, we’ll chip away at that.
Photo by Saana Räntilä
During September’s Rakkautta & Anarkiaa film festival and the attendant Finnish Film Affair, I dipped my toe into Helsinki film society after a long time and met many new people and connected with others I hadn’t seen in ages. I hosted a filmmaker from Estonia – basically this consisted of picking her and her husband up from the ferry and taking them to their hotel. I moderated a couple of Q&As, in the process, reconnecting with the incredible Anna Hints, director of Smoke Sauna Sisterhood, whom I had met in Copenhagen this past spring. Her film will have its Finnish cinema release at Orion in early December – don’t miss it! Anna and I had dinner together while the film played and did an hour-long Q&A to a very enchanted audience.
I was also a part of AVEK’s inaugural Kehittämö as – you guessed it – a mentor. I hosted a public talk with another Kehittämö mentor, American script editor and producer, Karol Griffiths. I also met the lovely cultural attaché to the American Embassy at a reception. She has green hair, owns a gigantic cat to whom she’s utterly devoted, and who gets a lot of Facebook love, and is a major fan girl (the woman, not the cat) of a K-pop star. In October, I will have a coffee date with her boss, the Counselor for Public Affairs at the US Embassy.
First Mentor Meeting
What I found at the 3rd floor offices of Helskini Casting looks like a mash-up of PeeWee’s Playhouse and a big advertising agency I used to work for in LA – lots of color and things to play with, interesting configurations of furniture and accoutrements, explosions of snacks everywhere, and what looked like a really friendly, cool working environment overlooking a bustling boulevard through huge floor-to-ceiling windows with young women running around getting ready to leave for the day, all of us at one moment in the kitchen focused on a tiny little dog ignoring everything around her as her eyes were locked on her owner who was unwrapping a new toy.
After removing shoes at the door, getting the grand tour, and chatting a bit, Katri and I got some refreshments and went into one of the boardrooms for the “mentorial summit” I was expecting. However, on the table were all these art supplies and after sitting across from one another Katri handed me a piece of paper on which was printed the following: Your life is a piece of art in itself. Let’s paint some turning points to give it a visual background. 1. Think of moments of time in your life that made a difference. Choose the color and size of it. Make a stain on your canvas with it. 2. Choose 3 – 7 more turning points or times of importance and place it on the canvas. What shapes are they? How big? Hold back from painting with the points yet.
All the important stuff is now on canvas.
Focus on one point at a time and create a piece of art to express your life. How do they diffuse?
Feel free to share anything that comes to mind with your mentor!
You might want to add something to your canvas. If you do so, try to think why you add it.
After some initial panic – I always have initial panic in the face of doing arts & crafts, don’t ask me why – we began by putting various colored splotches on our canvases. For the next three hours, we painted and talked and shared, getting to know one another in all of our various capacities in the most lovely and organic of ways and I ended up sharing some things I’d either never really shared before with anyone or hadn’t thought about deeply in a long, long time. I won’t go into too much more detail since so much of it was private and personal but suffice to say I LOVE my painting!! It’s entitled “Meeting with the CEO”. The creative exercise of making it enabled me to go towards re-calibrating my life a little bit, taming the harsh self-recriminations it’s contained for so long, causing all the dissociation I’ve allowed myself to live in as described in the beginning of this post. This simple but profound act was a huge gift, offering solace and companionship from an unlikely kindred spirit, a woman with the sensitivity and charisma of a leader. I deeply appreciate her offering this kind of space to her grumpy, introverted, anti-social mentee who hasn’t felt so great about herself in a long, long time. (Yes, I’m aware I described myself in third person again. Old habits die hard.)
At around 8pm, after we emerged bleary-eyed from the boardroom and cleaned our mess up a bit, I waited for Katri to gather her things. While I was waiting, I looked around at the office once again, in a totally different headspace from which I’d entered it. I noticed something I hadn’t really noticed upon coming in the first time: There were all these small painted canvases on the walls. They were everywhere, a plethora of creative juice splattered and/or artfully applied with people’s dreams, thoughts, fantasies, and wishes. A portrait of my own life also lives there now.