Holler

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

Dear Holler,

I need some help. I am a theater maker running a small ensemble-based company. My collaborators include friends from grad school, colleagues from my day job, and a few kindred spirits I've met on other projects. There are maybe fifteen of us total, and depending on other commitments, eight to ten of us work on any given production. We don't have a formal roster of “members” and, although we have been fairly stable over the last five years, we are certainly open to new blood.

I have an acquaintance who is dying to work with us. She meets all of the above criteria (grad school, day job, other projects). She has repeatedly expressed interest in collaborating. She's even said she'd clear her calendar of any other commitments and work for free if need be. It's getting desperate. Here's the thing: I just don't like her. I can't put my finger on it, but she rubs me, and some others I work with, the wrong way. I'm running out of credible excuses to explain why she can't come play with us. How do I make it clear it's not happening, without being outright rude?

Thanks,
Ensemble Minus One (EMO)

Dear EMO (Nice, was that on purpose?),

Thank you so much for sharing this. So often in the “pages” of HowlRound, we read about the importance of building our own structures, in part to stop giving inaccessible high-and-mighty's so much control over our careers. But the challenge of building our own structures is that now the responsibility for deciding who's in and who's out lies at our own feet. So quickly, what started as an alternative venture founded on the principal of inclusion can turn into a miniature version of the very thing we set out to avoid (cf. the United States from the Puritans to Park 51).

But enough about those pesky historical patterns. Let me say first, kudos to you for leading a company that so many want to be a part of! That's definitely a testament of your value to your community. And, even keeping a loose ensemble consistent over several years and multiple projects is no small feat. Those fifteen artists who keep coming back clearly know they are part of something special. Also, I applaud you for keeping the gates open enough to include collaborators from different parts of your life—there seem to be a lot of companies out there comprised entirely of members of the class of XX from the College of YY, and while I'm all for shared vocabularies within ensembles, the echo chamber effect can work counter to innovation and risk. Lastly, and most importantly, I think your letter demonstrates a high level of sensitivity and compassion. I can sense that you are conflicted about causing someone to feel excluded, even indirectly. Perhaps (like many other theater people) you have experienced being socially ostracized in your past, or perhaps you just don't want the successful ensemble you've nurtured to curdle into a theater version of a schoolyard “Boys Only—No Girlz Allowed” club. Either way, your sensitivity to both this person's feelings and the health of your ensemble is commendable. The theater is lucky to have you.

One factor to keep in mind is that this kind of thing can quickly become self-fulfilling. You are excluding her because she annoys you; she is annoying because you are excluding her: a cycle of annoyance and exclusion. It reminds me of this girl I went to grade school with. We decided early on that we didn't like her—I don't know why, probably something really important like her bangs or her weird taste in socks. We ignored her on the playground, we chose her last for group projects, and we basically made her life a misery. By the time we got to high school, she was a monster—a bitter, angry, mean-spirited person. It took me a long time to realize that we basically did that to her—she hardened to survive our middle-school cruelty. The only way she could manage being hated by everyone was to hate everyone else first and more. Who knows, maybe an ounce of kindness from us at eleven would have yielded a different person in her at seventeen. But we were kids, and defining ourselves as “Not-Tasha” was much too important. Group identity is often formed largely by who is excluded. On the other hand, inclusion is self-fulfilling too. Including someone makes them a member, and de facto expands the definition of a group to include whatever awful character flaw had previously kept that person out.

But perhaps the same idea applies here. Perhaps this acquaintance is insufferable because she is being excluded. Perhaps giving her an “in” will either satisfy her for a while, or at least prove whether or not your reservations about her are truly founded. Or perhaps, just maybe, inviting her in will itself be transformative. Ask yourself if there is an artistic justification for excluding her, not just a personal one. After all, you want to make decisions about your company based on what's best for the artistic process, not just who's the most fun. Dig deeper—why does she rub you the wrong way? Is it because you fear she'll upset a too-perfect equilibrium, or because she has ideas that might force you to challenge assumptions? An ensemble is a tricky thing—it can be tempting to want a love fest all the time, but sometimes what's necessary is a little discomfort. (Remember how pearls are made...)

Ask yourself if there is an artistic justification for excluding her, not just a personal one. After all, you want to make decisions about your company based on what's best for the artistic process, not just who's the most fun.

Look, in the end, it's your choice. I imagine you invest a lot into your company's artistic integrity, and you may not want to compromise your standards just to prevent hurting someone's feelings. And you certainly don't want to alienate longtime collaborators if giving her a chance would do that. If you do decide to keep her out, one strategy is to frame her exclusion from the company as a special bonus, not a demerit. Explain that you need someone in your life who knows all the players but isn't one herself, so that you can gain much-needed outside perspective. But whatever you decide, give her the gift of an upfront and final answer. She keeps asking because she maintains some hope she'll get a yes. If that's not on the table, the compassionate thing to do is to suggest she stop asking. This may be one of those situations where being polite is not the same as being kind.

Love,
Holler

The Bottom Line:

One of the pitfalls of running a successful company is having to say no to wannabe members. Remember—a loud-and-clear “no” today will save you a hundred “maybes” later (and is probably kinder, too). But before you close the door, be sure you aren't missing out on an unexpected opportunity to learn something new.