How to not take rejection personally and to respond with dignity. As an actor, I auditioned A LOT which means I didn’t get cast A LOT.  While I booked my Actor’s Equity card at my very first NYC audition, there were plenty of times before and after that when I didn’t book anything. I learned that I couldn’t define my value and worth as an actor based on that. There were so many things out of my control: maybe I looked like the director’s ex-wife, maybe I was inches taller than the leading man, maybe they needed a brunette, or someone who plays the guitar or or or. To take rejection with dignity and not personally is the most important skill I learned. It’s transferable to any part of life. In fundraising, statistically, we hear “no” four times before we hear “yes.” That’s a lot of rejection! My theatre training helps me transcend that rejection to see more clearly why it’s a “no” and what’s in my control to improve the opportunity for a donor to meaningfully invest in the arts at Wichita State. 

 

I think there were a few things. NYC isn’t very affordable for an actor! But, at that time in the mid- to late-2000s, big cities were where an actor had to be to land a role because most actors were auditioning in-person for work, not creating their own work like many do today. There were no smart phones. No WiFi. Now, I see fellow actors making a living in regional areas— that wasn’t generally possible 20 years ago. I also wanted children and the thought of raising them in NYC chaos gave me more anxiety than joy. Finally, I was working my survival job in luxury hospitality more than I was performing. I could sell $800 hotel rooms on Central Park South all day long but I wasn’t feeling fulfilled or making a difference in the world. The skills I learned in sales and marketing prepped me for a “stable” job with health insurance, so I turned my attention to nonprofit arts administration. If I can’t perform, I want to support the craft so it stays accessible and life-changing for all. 

 

Artists of any kind are entrepreneurs, yet many of us aren’t taught the principles and how-to to run your own business because such intensity is dedicated to the craft. Take business classes. Learn how to be an entrepreneur. Live on a budget. The art is important, but if you can’t figure out how to promote yourself then your best performance in the world won’t be seen. Know who you are and what you want—Be specific. No one else will advocate for you so be prepared to take care of yourself. This industry is all about connections. I’m always amazed at how student-athletes can tell you the head coach, roster, and stats of every professional team in the country specializing in their sport, but performers rarely can do the same. Discover what type of theatre, dance, design, music, or tech you want to pursue and then find out who’s excelling in that work so you can connect and learn from them. I think a lot of us underestimate the power of a handwritten letter and taking classes in the craft after graduation. That can open doors to side work like being a reader for auditions, filling in as an assistant director, answering calls in a casting firm, etc. Those small things add up. As it’s often said about celebrities: you work your whole life for overnight success.