From the Editors
What's in it for Me? Why I Stay in the Arts
Michelle Kozlak, Manager of Theater Programming, The Kennedy Center:
Many of us, myself included, have occasionally complained about the many hats we must wear in our jobs, the small or non-existent staff we have to accomplish lengthy lists of tasks, the long hours we work, the small amount of compensation we get for those long hours and often the stress we experience as a result of this hectic work environment. For those of us who work in the arts, there is no corner office, no long, luxurious vacations, no flex time and certainly no end of the year bonus. So, if we are not able to work nine to five or get to take home buckets of money each week, what benefits do we reap?
This is the very question I asked myself when I sat down to write this article. The more I started to think about it, the more that I realized how fortunate I am on most days to have a job as an arts manager. Every day is challenging, stimulating and is almost always filled with unexpected events. The benefits I receive are not material or tangible, but they have just as much impact, if not more.
Here is a small sampling of the benefits I receive by working in the arts:
- Collaboration
- It is refreshing to be able to work in an environment where everyone's ideas are not only accepted, but encouraged.
- Sense of Community
- I know that at any point in time I can pick up the phone and call a colleague to ask for assistance or advice and that individual is willing and able to take the time to help out.
- Solving problems
- A large portion of my job is about solving problems. It is the challenge of how to stretch out every dollar that the organization has, figure out how to do the impossible, or take a new approach to an old situation that invigorates me.
- Development of new work
- Nothing can compare to the satisfaction and excitement I feel after seeing a project go from the development stage to a full production.
- An outstanding performance
- I always enjoy the delightful and unexpected surprise of witnessing an outstanding performance by an actor.
- Innovative new work
- Reading a new play that will break new boundaries, educate, and excite the audience energizes me.
- Giving opportunities to young artists
- Especially in this field, we are in the position to give opportunities to artists that are just starting out in their careers. What a wonderful thing to be able to give an individual their first professional job and to watch them grow.
- The audience experience
- Watching audience members who are captivated by a performance is something I relish. There is nothing more fascinating than listening to the audience's reaction as they leave the theater.
- Building future audiences
- Ensuring that the arts will be a part of the lives of future audiences is such an integral part of our field. I am proud to be a part of a profession that is as concerned with today as it is about tomorrow.
So, when I have a day when everything seems to go wrong, I find myself day dreaming about other, less stressful jobs or I contemplate running screaming from the building - I don't. I forget about balancing the budget, looming deadlines, and all of the day's frustrations - I take a deep breath, a long swig of coffee and I think about how different my life would be if I had another career. It is then that I realize how lucky I truly am.
Contact Michelle at Michellek815@hotmail.com
Emily Petkewich, Education Director,
Metro Theater Company
I'm going to be perfectly honest-sometimes I fantasize about going back to waiting tables. That's what I was doing five years ago, in my "starving artist" period. I spent long hours on my feet, got no breaks during my shift, and had to endure a boss who had little respect for women. However, most nights I walked out of there with over $100 in my pocket, and left everything else at the door. There was no reason to think about the job outside the building; I had plenty of time for friends and other activities.
Now, I'm the Education Director of Metro Theater Company. As an emerging artist, I have a perfect blend of artistic responsibilities and classroom contact with K-12 children. I get to direct, and I get to teach. Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I got.
But, there are sacrifices, too. I had to take out a graduate school loan that far exceeds my yearly salary. I had to uproot myself to St. Louis, a place so far from my closest friends and family that I sometimes feel I'm stranded on a deserted island. I am the administrator, program designer, marketing specialist, graphic designer, registrar, grant writer, and lead teacher for nearly all our education programs, and it's exhausting. Because of my choices, I am thirty-something and still single, without children, and a long, long way from owning a home.
So, on the difficult days, I suffer a little bit of nostalgia for the old, carefree days of spare time and expendable income. But, then I remember that I am madly in love with my job, and madly in love with Theater for Young Audiences.
In Dennis Foon's magical play, The Short Tree and the Bird That Could Not Sing, which I directed at Metro this season, a little flower responds to every attempt other characters make at engaging him in conversation with an exclamation of "Whee! Whee!" The Little Flower never fails to elicit squeals of delight from the audience, and often the hallways of the school are willed with choruses of "Whee! Whee!" as children return to their classrooms after the show. The Little Flower expresses the joy of simply being alive. This simple exclamation sums up the reason I stay in a field that often makes it difficult for young artists due to low wages, long hours and limited opportunities for career growth.
Joy is the reason I stay, and when Theater for Young Audiences is at its most potent and meaningful, joy thrives. Joy is a precious commodity in our fear-saturated society - particularly in some of the underserved communities Metro works in - but the young people I encounter always seem to know where to find it. On the good days, it is fully evident in the shy smiles of students who have been set up to fail academically but suddenly find themselves succeeding in drama class. It is evident in the laughter of children watching a production where their heart and minds are fully engaged. It is evident in the piles of cards and letters from students on my desk that I can't bear to throw away no matter how much space they take up.
I rarely find this joy in "adult" theater. My encounters there as an artist and audience member are too often cynical, tired and utterly lacking in joy. The joy in TYA comes in the energy of youth, the sense of infinite possibility, and the belief that not everything has already been done. We have boundaries yet to cross, ideas yet to be explored, forms yet to be invented. In our small field, I have the feeling that the best is yet to come. I believe that is why TYA is currently attracting playwrights the caliber of David Henry Hwang and Naomi Iizuka. Perhaps artists from the "adult" theater world are seeking the joy that we get to experience each day. Perhaps it is our field that will finally silence the doomsayers who declare "The theater is dead."
Joy is my fuel. When I am running on empty on a Wednesday morning, when I can't bear the thought of stepping into a classroom, it usually takes me less than five minutes in the presence of children to get the jolt of joy I need to get me through the day. It's an electric feeling, a feeling better than any adrenaline rush I have tried, and, best of all, it's contagious.
I only hope that someday funders and legislators will value the evidence of joy on equal par with evidence of improved reading and math scores. Joy is much easier to measure, and someday those who control the purse strings of public education will finally understand that learning cannot happen in the absence of joy. Perhaps when that day comes, all of us emerging artists and managers in Theater for Young Audiences will find the institutional and structural support that is critical for us all to keep going. For now, the frequent experience of joy is enough reason for me to keep hanging on.
Contact Emily at Emily@metrotheatercompany.org