In my last post, I attempted two exorcise one of two demons that had been taking up residence in my head. The first tenant, “Spitz” was from work. Today’s post is about the second tenant, the one from theater.

“BoBo” has been a staple in the theater world for longer that I have been in this area. And, while I don’t remember him from my early days in the state, his name began to ring a bell as a regular in local theater. I had an opportunity to interact with him on a few occasions, in a mentoring relationship. I was seeking guidance on how to better my craft, and, along with some other seekers, fell under his tutelage.

At first glance, BoBo appeared approachable and entertaining. But I quickly grew uneasy, as I felt I was being judged rather than assisted, in the very thing I sought to become better at. Then there were the side remarks, not just to me, but to others. Rather than re-enacting these, I’ll cut to the chase.

There were specific platitudes that haunt me. Things like, “If you never do anything more with your acting, well, you can always be a big shot in Community Theater” followed by an eye-roll and a laugh. Or, “stop being so busy showing us what we should feel and just try acting for a sec.” And finally, the last statement, “it’s a good thing you have a different day job.”

Now, let’s take a closer look at those statements. The first one, on first glance, shouldn’t necessarily be an insult. I mean, when have we, as a theater community, decided upon a caste system that places negative stigma on “community theater”? Or have we? Isn’t the very nature of theater to bring experiences and emotions to all sorts of people in all sorts of environments? Why should that be a slight? And yet, maybe because the statement was made by someone who was in professional theater, someone who gets paid to help students grow and thrive, that it became an insult. And it made me fearful of “going back” to where I had been performing since the early 90’s. That, by doing that, somehow I had failed. Not necessarily because the theater was bad, but because I didn’t strive to do theater for money, or as a career.

The second statement does have actual value at the core. But it could have been said in a much more productive way. It could have been said like, “Focus on being present in the moment; be actively listening, understand the stakes of each beat, don’t worry about what we as an audience are receiving. Be true to the text, and the moment.” Are we so programmed to get results by picking someone apart? Is it not more fruitful to get at the truth of the matter and build people up instead?

As for the final statement, I don’t regret having a day job for a moment. There was a point in my college career, as a Theater major, that I had a very honest revelation that there are certain material comforts that I wanted, which I knew would be very challenging as an actor. I had a certainty about my intellect, and my ability to succeed in business, and the rewards that might come with that. I also knew that I loved New England, and wanted to stay here. I knew that I could most likely achieve those material goals up here, but that the chances of making my living in theater, and also achieving those same goals would be difficult. But there is so much theater, I thought: why couldn’t I do both? Why couldn’t I make a living doing something else, and still do theater in my free time? And this is what I have done, without fail, since I graduated from college. And what was the purpose for that statement? How would it help me grow as a performer? Or was this a not-so-subtle recommendation to give up?

Ultimately what someone else says to you and about you shouldn’t really matter. Sticks and stones, right? And I am of the generation that was told to “suck it up and prove them wrong”. But what am I proving, and to whom? Should it matter what other people say, if it’s not helpful?

Acting for me is a need, not a want. It is the fuel for my soul and my creative brain as my day job is the fuel for my intellect and analytical brain. I need both to be balanced, to be complete. To be harmonious. And, in the retelling of these experiences, I realize that I will always be my toughest critic, but that I should heed my own advice. I do not write this post to hurt someone else, but rather to understand why they hurt me. And I do wish BoBo continued success in the industry. Because I believe that we can learn lessons from one another. I just hope they are not at the expense of someone else.