I’ll always remember my first time at the wheel. I was a short, scrawny, 9 year old girl with straggly, brown hair. I did not know what I was doing.

Zzz… zzz…zzz, went the hard, abrasive wheel, as I gouged deep, rough valleys into the thin, silver, practice ring, that was just cast and cleaned. Trying to take down the casting sprue. Then the ring slipped off the wheel and my finger received the same treatment. Zzz… into my soft, not yet calloused finger tip. I received a little instruction from my teacher, my dad. He showed me how to firmly but gently, roll the ring into the wheel to keep the nice round, shape of the bottom of the ring, (the shank) I tried again to achieve the nice roundness. Zzzzzz…zzzzz. A little better this time, the deep rough valleys were still there but they were considerably longer. Not so short and choppy. This time when the ring slipped off the wheel, my finger nail received the fury of the wheel. By the end of the day, I had abrasions, and small lacerations on my fingers, and nicks and races on my fingernails.

The practicing continued, almost everyday, after my school lessons. Day after day. Year after year.

We moved on to other tasks. With barely any instruction he would give me a job knowing I would eventually figure most of it out on my own. Soldering on chains, bracelets, earrings, rings, jump rings, chain ends, heads. Sizing rings, up and down. Re-tipping and rebuilding prongs. Prepping fresh castings. Setting stones of every shape and size. Working on yellow and white gold, platinum and silver. Changing watch batteries. Removing links from watches. I learned from my mistakes. Melting metal that wasn’t supposed to be melted. Denting hollow shanks that I had to pound back out. Chipping, cracking and yes sometimes crushing stones while setting them. I learned fast how to respect the soft opals, peridots, tanzanites. Just how much pressure I could put on diamonds, rubies sapphires. And that even diamonds will chip under the right kind of pressure, in the right spots.

My dad, a master jeweler, wanted to start apprenticing me as a bench jeweler at a young age. For some reason he thought that I would be more inclined to be a bench jeweler instead of a wax carver. He was right. It’s been 18 years since that hot afternoon in Tucson Arizona where I first took the wheel. It’s been a hard, but fun ride. I still have things to learn. And with more care and a little more experience, I will learn them with zeal and respectfulness.