What Kind of Theatre Artist Are You?

Last night I was thinking about how I am always just a little bit embarrassed to tell people I am an actress. My next door neighbor was talking to me outside and said, "So, Jack tells me you're an...ACTRESS." There's always a trace of amusement in people's voices when they say it, as though they are indulging a child's belief in Santa Claus.

I admitted that I was, indeed an actress, and had even gone so far as to actually spend 8 years total earning two degrees in said art. He raised his eyebrows.

"Oh! So you must be makin' the big bucks, huh!?"

Because as everyone in the country knows, having a Masters Degree automatically means you're "makin' the big bucks". Just ask all the MBAs who are out of work after the recession.

I had to explain that I was not making tons of money because, well, because of a lot of reasons, but mainly because I was portraying the biggest role of my life as Zoe's Mother, and was a stay-at-home mom right now. I did say that I was starting to audition again. My neighbor perked up immediately.

"Hey, you should tell me if you are ever in a show! I'll come see it. You know, I like FUN shows. When I was in fourth grade, I was the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. It was like we were famous." He went on to sing a little of "If I Only Had A Brain" while I tried to decide if this was endearing or making me uncomfortable.

But this conversation got me thinking. There's a stigma about actors - well, all artists, really. According to a lot of people out there, we are flighty, lazy, incapable of holding down a "real" job, dramatic, catty, narcissistic, overly idealistic, liberal, leftist, Communists, moochers, degenerates, atheists, addicts, consumed with trivialities and worst of all, believe that the arts are important enough for government funding. Phew. That's a lot of responsibility.

Of course, not everyone thinks all of these things, and even if they do, I am sure they aren't consciously running through the list. But think about the instant gut reaction you feel when someone tells you they identify with a heavily stereotyped profession: what goes through your mind when someone tells you they're a stripper? A Senator? A musician?

Well, someone a lot older and more cynical once told me that stereotypes exist because they're true - and to some extent she was right. Stereotypes wouldn't exist if there wasn't data to bring them into cultural mythology in the first place. But once they're there, it's up to us to do something about it if we don't like them.

So what kind of artist are you? Do you identify with those labels? Are you so consumed with your work that your relationships suffer? Are you one of those artists that nobody likes but they put up with you because you're such a great director/actress/scenic artist? Do you take advantage of family by allowing them to support your bad financial habits year after year while you inconvenience your friends by crashing on their couch for yet another winter? Or are you taking responsibility for your career, staying healthy - emotionally and physically, and paying just as much attention to saving for the future as you are to starting a revolution?

The first five years or so of my career were dark days. Everything seemed difficult. I was struggling so hard to 'make it'; why wasn't it working out? I was bustling around between Wisconsin and Illinois in various shows, frequenting theatre bookstores and actor bars and sending out pictures to agents. But I drank too much, slept with my co-stars, made enemies. I spent time involved in petty drama at my waitressing job instead of going home and reading Ibsen or studying Chicago's theatres' seasons and audition schedules. Things turned around for me personally when I decided to put Human Being at the top of my Mental Resume. The surprising thing was, the more I focused on being a better person, the better my career got. My acting became richer and more full. Directors, actors, vocal coaches and teachers all enjoyed having me around...so they continued to hire me. Word spreads. Don't think it doesn't. Maybe the Real World will never know us very well, but the Theatre World will.

Who do you want to be?