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Holler

Navigating the Career Advice Minefield

Essay by

Got issues? Of course you do. Keep’em coming—write to me at [email protected]. For previous Holler columns, go here.

Dear Holler,

I'm in a jam … I've been in the field about five years (I'm a playwright and an actor), and so far I think I've done all right. However, from the perspective of the faculty at the college I went to, I'm doing unbelievably well. News of my success has been greatly exaggerated back home. Now, I'm getting emails from recent grads from our program, plus their friends and friends of friends, asking to “pick my brain” about how I made it. Invariably each of these coffee dates involves asking me how I got X or Y opportunity, and if I'd feel comfortable introducing them to my contacts (agent/director/producer, etc.). I know we're all in this together, but it makes me uncomfortable. I feel unqualified to even give advice (hey, I'm still trying to get those coffee dates myself!), and furthermore, you know, I worked hard for the contacts I've developed and the lessons I've learned. It seems a little unfair to download all that to someone else just because they asked me... Or does that make me a jerk? How do I advise someone even greener than I am, when half the time I barely know what I'm doing?

—Seeking Advice on Giving Advice


 

Clip art of an interrobang.

 

Dear SAGA,

First of all, let me commend you for your honest and uber-responsible letter. Many people find it flattering when someone asks them for advice, so flattering that they can't honestly assess whether or not they have any worthwhile advice to give. It feels good to be asked how we got to where we are—if others think we know what we're doing, we often take it mean that we do. Kudos for looking more critically at what for others is an automatic “yes.” (And by the way, don't be so humble! Something really must be working, if after only a few years you've become a success story in the eyes of your alma mater. So kudos on that, too.)

However, I do hear what you're saying. Giving someone advice can make you vulnerable—more so even than asking for it. Advice-giving is a minefield (a strange view perhaps for an advice-columnist). Every problem, every career path, every fork in the road is unique and unrepeatable, shaped by context, guided by history, and bedeviled by details. Any morsel of concrete “advice,” that is, a clear endorsement of a singular course of action, seems like it'll inevitably fall short on some count. And when advice is given, followed, and fails, it can create a difficult situation for both parties. The last thing you want is a disappointed customer knocking on your door. “I did exactly what you said to do, and my girlfriend still wouldn't agree to some light BDSM!” (Why do you think I write this column anonymously?) Beyond the vulnerability, I think you're right to feel a little proprietary here—even if you do agree to coffee, that doesn't mean you need to open up your Rolodex and start handing out contact info. (A Rolodex? It's like a little plastic wheel of phone num… just Google it.) Especially if it's someone you don't really know—are you sure you can trust that person to be respectful with your leads? And beyond that, can you really vouch for their artistic merit? If an actor goes into an audition for a director friend on your recommendation, it's your rep on the line, too. (More on that in another column perhaps.) So, what do you do? You don't want to disappoint your former professors, and you want to be a pay-it-forward good citizen of the American theatre, like the ones you hope will help you out someday, too. But it gives you the skeevies, and rightfully so.

Any morsel of concrete “advice,” that is, a clear endorsement of a singular course of action, seems like it'll inevitably fall short on some count. And when advice is given, followed, and fails, it can create a difficult situation for both parties.

Here's where I break my own rule and present to you a piece of straight-up advice: Don't do it. Don't put yourself in a compromised or uncomfortable position for the sake of the “next generation.” Instead of a protégé, make this young whippersnapper into a friend. We can always use another friend in this business. Listen to her questions, and share that you have the same ones (assuming that you do … when you zoom out far enough, we pretty much all have the same questions). Let her do most of the talking. Share a story or two about your own experiences (after reminding her that each person's journey is unique). If you don't have any good stories, borrow one of mine. Here: take my story about how once when I went to coffee with a slightly older director, I asked for the email address of an artistic director I knew this person had worked with. He looked at me and said, “Either I'm going to be your mentor or your competition. Don't pretend you want mentorship if what you really want is to poach my next gig. And regardless of what you want, I'm not going to give you any email addresses. You'll have to earn them one-by-one, like I did, over years of trying.” It's kind of a shitty story, but I learned my lesson. Turns out I learned another lesson from this guy too, albeit indirectly. He forgot to “BCC” on a show blast, so I got the email address I was after from him anyway. (Look! More advice! Always double-check that BCC field.) Good luck, SAGA. I believe that if all you do is give her a safe space to express some fears and doubts, you've done your duty to the future of American theatre, and to your former profs as well. Double points if you tell her that you share some of those fears yourself. Just be sure to let her buy the coffee. (Otherwise, word will really get out about how well you've done!)


Love,
Holler

Bottom Line:
Life isn't a formula: what's working for you might not work for anyone else. But giving advice can take many forms. In fact, sometimes the most valuable form is simply saying, “I hear you, and guess what? Me too."

 

 

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Thoughts from the curator

A monthly advice column to help advice the many conundrums theatre artists can find themselves in.

Holler Advice Column

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I think this whole debate stems from our fears about the power we have
(or don't have) in our professional arenas. In hear really mixed
feelings in this Howl. On one side, I hear the "realistic" assumption
that there isn't room for everyone in this business; even if we find a
place, we fight to protect our position inside it. That's how the world
is, we say. (We did, after all, choose theatre.) And, yes, it's true
that not every conversation leads to an opportunity. But I also hear an
equally "realistic" plea for the recognition that those who "make it"
take responsibility for carving a place for themselves. That process
takes guts, resilience, and, perhaps most importantly, time. Good
mentors neither imagine they can gift people with a satisfying career
nor feel threatened by the presence of other talented people.

Ilana, I hear you loud and clear, and agree with what you are saying, Still very much a newbie myself I value my mentors, and I'm very grateful for their suppport.

However, at this point - my mentors and other contacts have come through work-related experiences, usually developmental opportunities. And those opportunities have come through someone connecting with my voice and wanting to support it. The point is that I had to put some work in to locate and develop those relationships. So maybe I'm coming with a biased perspective.

Developing relationships through coffee chats, or other such conversations never panned out for me. More specifically, creating or even locating opportunity never happened for me in that way. Somehow I felt I continued to be viewed as a student or novice in their eyes.

Perhaps this is an issue that needs to be addressed in the field. Mentorship is very important. How can we take the pressure off both parties - so that we can develop meaningful relationships without the expectation of having to create or recieve opportunity? Wisdom and guidance is always needed. How do we learn to recieve that without expecting more? How do they learn to give that without being afraid? I'm sure that many have been burned, or stalked or feel that their time was wasted.

How do we address this and create change?

Hrm... I'm still chewing on this column. This is the piece that's really troubling me: "Don’t do it. Don’t put yourself in a compromised or uncomfortable position for the sake of the 'next generation.'"

I just can't get behind this interpretation of what it means to provide mentorship. I think there's enormous importance and efficacy in what I like to think of as "young mentorship" -- that is, artists only a few years into their careers offering a hand up to those coming directly behind them. These young mentors are much closer to the current state of opportunities, obstacles, and quandaries than someone who is already mid-career.

These newbie artists, the ones asking SAGA for advice, they don't even know what they're asking for -- they don't have the context yet to know that what they want is mentorship, rather than emails and contacts. But SAGA knows, s/he's gone through those early moments of deep confusion, the panic of "how the hell do I make a life making my art?" Mostly what newbie artists want to know is: you did this, so I can do this too, right? And on this front, I think we absolutely DO have an obligation to take them under our wings and give them a sense of how it's done. What steps might one take. How they can get themselves into the circumstances where they can make their *own* connections. I think about Polly Carl's notions on moving from the philosophy of scarcity to one of abundance. Living with the notion that the theatre is a field of scarcity will wear down your soul. Engaging in mentorship is a way of practicing a philosophy of abundance.

I guess what I'd say to SAGA is this: definitely meet with the newbies, to the extent that your schedule and interest allows. Don't see these meetings as opportunities to "put yourself in a compromised or uncomfortable position." Flip the paradigm. Nurture those coming after you, give them some professional tips and camaraderie. You don't owe them your rolodex (man, I used to have one of those), but the theatre is a mentorship field, and at its best, a community. It can also be exceedingly good for one's soul and feeling of professionalism to practice mentorship. It helps you crystallize your own beliefs about your art and your philosophies of making.

Finally, to put it in purely self-serving terms, those you offer your time to as emerging artists will probably be in a position to give *you* a contact or a job or a foot in the door in the not too distant future. I remember those who were kind to me and gave advice when I was a newbie artist and intern. I've repaid those kindnesses many times, and as a result, have created sustained collaborations with many of those who granted me an hour of their time, 10-15 years ago. These are the collaborations I cherish most.

The truth of the matter is that the most meaningful relationships "ie contacts" come through a working context. That's the rub of it. That's the Catch 22 of it. People have to experience you in a professional environment to get a sense of your work ethic, temperment, and aesthetic. This is how people come to trust your abilities and intent,and in some cases refer you for other opportunites. But you never ask for a reference or introduction like that. It has to be offered. That said, it's fine to ask a close mentor or colleague for a grad school recommmendation, or something like that. But not - can you get me in touch with such and such person? They have to offer and if someone believes in you - and trust that you won't embarrass them, they will help you in such ways. But you really have to prove yourself.

I agree that maybe giving "career advice" is not the most productive way to think about it--especially if the giver and receiver are relatively close in age. What I think is most important for an advice giver, or even an older theater practitioner working with a younger one (whatever the age difference) is to glean what it is that the younger one really wants to do in their career. Like you said Holler, no two career paths are going to be the same, so leading a younger theater artist down the exact same path seems counter-productive to their career.
But that doesn't mean to avoid giving advice, but maybe the advice should be based on what the younger artists wants/needs for their career/life in the theater, not what the older one has already done.

And if the younger one is insistent that they want the exact same path, maybe the advice is that they need to figure out exactly what their theatrical values are before embarking down a path that as already been taken.

Thanks for the feedback, Jonathan and Jeremy! You are absolutely right that one way mentors can be useful to mentees is teaching the "soft science" of professional conduct. However, in the case where the mentor and mentee are relatively close in age and experience (as I intuited from SAGA's letter), sometimes that conversation can be hard to broach without appearing condescending. It's a fine line to walk. But your points are well taken. Thanks!

Love the story about the director and that when you're trying to land a coffee date you're sitting with a mentor or a competitor (or if you're being asked to sit, you become one of those two things). It's tricky --- I think writers starting out (especially students) are looking for where to begin their career paths, but it can come across as trying to walk established paths that were forged with years of other people's hard work (and yeah, that's what some are after). Jonathan's comment about educating each other on professional behavior cannot be repeated enough. Getting a contact, getting a name, does nothing without the relationship to back it up. I recently heard a great keynote attempting to redefine mentor as a friend and collaborator, not a boss or template builder. It's about creating relationships that fuel each other and inspire, not replicating another person's career. You summed it up best with this: "Every problem, every career path, every fork in the road is unique and unrepeatable, shaped by context, guided by history, and bedeviled by details."

Sometimes learning what not to do or say is also important. Instead of giving "career advice" and contacts or such, it would be far more helpful to take folks aside and educate them about professional behavior - and how not to make an ass of yourself. Explain that contacts are aquired through research, hard work, and proving yourself to be a trustworty and discreet individual. Sharing contacts or making introductions violates that trust.