Carving through chaos - how I survived my last woodcarving project (by Kinga)
Final results of my last woodcarving project
The noise in this small room was really overwhelming. My mind felt wrapped in a thick fog rising from the ground. I could feel the nervousness of my colleagues when it was time for the students to pick a team for the next 5 days. It was chaotic, as usual. My group was the last to be picked - four girls and four boys wanted to do woodcarving, but they refused to be mixed. The universe decided that I would work with the boys. They had caught my attention earlier, when the teacher had to calm them down during introduction. I smiled, but inside my stomach was twisting. It was challenging to keep them focused and open to communicating and participating in the process of creating the design. Still, they ended the first day with a proud feeling of improving their drawing skills.
The next morning, something shifted. They split into two pairs - two who enjoyed the work and two who wished they were anywhere else. What amazed me was how they encouraged each other anyway. They put on a playlist that revealed how versatile their music tastes were and soon engaged me in conversation. One of them was really curious about my experience - he even asked if I could play some Polish songs. The other was trying his best to not destroy the wooden board with his carving technique. The third was surprisingly skilled at pretending to work, but spent more time adjusting the playlist. The last one seemed uncertain about his skills, but stayed the most focused and disciplined. His quiet persistence made me hopeful for the group. I did my best to divide my attention equally to keep them all interested and productive.
My woodcarving group’s task was to carve the backrests of three benches. I told them what the stakes were, and they immediately got to work. The fact that they wanted to carve their own designs from Monday warmed my heart. Yet, my mind whispered that time-wise it was not the most practical solution. The winner of this silent battle was the heart. They asked if I could take care of more challenging elements and I gladly carved alongside them. As we were polishing our teamwork, students from other groups drifted in and out. Their compliments about the designs and carvings motivated boys to work even harder. Some of the visitors even offered to help, so I gave them a quick woodcarving minicourse. Normally we don’t do that, but my colleagues agreed to share the workload this time.
On the fourth day one of them was sick and the other came late. I was worried, because Thursdays in big projects are usually the most important. I demonstrated how to paint the carved lines with contour paint. One of them muttered ‘we are not artists’ and I reminded them how they didn’t believe in their drawing skills on Monday and yet they ended up creating cool designs for the backrests. They got to work. They started with the name boards they had practiced on, so I could introduce the next step later. The focused boy shyly offered me to try a muffin he had baked at home. I gave him my honest opinion and he looked content.
Later, I took them outside to explain sanding. One of the boys who hadn’t been excited about carving, lit up at the chance to use a sanding machine. He got dusty within seconds, but determination on his face felt like a small win already. To lift morale, all groups gathered for a break to enjoy a barbecue prepared by their teachers and the janitor everybody loved. Afterward, we began to paint sanded designs with oil colour paints. Yet again a few pairs of enthusiastic hands joined in.
On the last day we were complete again. The final day meant that we would have to join forces with other groups which could only lead to one thing - chaos. Imagine trying to work while the tools you needed kept disappearing and students were constantly being borrowed for other tasks. A drop of sweat rolled down my face like a first soldier stepping onto the battlefield.
We measured the boards and marked where they needed to be cut to fit the stone construction. The cutting was tricky: we had to use a jigsaw. As a volunteer, I wasn’t allowed to let the students handle that machine. I stood in front of a crucial decision: waiting for my colleagues to finish their work so they could do it with their groups, or doing all that by myself with a cheering squad on the side. The approaching deadline screamed that the second option was the only reasonable one.
My group proved once again to be talented at holding tools and materials without actually bringing us closer to the goal. Still, I managed to squeeze the last drops of their willingness and together we screwed the backrests onto the bench structure. The final moment was bittersweet, the students’ faces glowing with satisfied smiles made every effort worth it. Tiredness, pride and sentimentality blended as my last woodcarving project came to an end.
Making process