Why artists are expected to have little self-value?

I have been taking a hiatus from all forms of social media for the past week. Riding on the sweet success of Life of a Freelance Dancer accruing 25,000 views, I felt that it was time to take a week away from marketing myself as a product and to sit back, relax, and assess where I am going in this career. My first week without any form of social media in my daily life since 2004 has taught me a lot and given me a fresh new perspective on my intentions and actions, which I am grateful for at this time in my life. In less than a week, I leave for Los Angeles to rehearse for and perform in the launch of Barak Ballet. And in less than two weeks, I turn 30 years old. As I grow older, I grow wiser and my dancing has more value. But what I've also learned over the past week is that certain parts of the dance world don't agree with this.

(I would like to start this post with a disclaimer. This writing has some delicate moments and harsh realities that could be seen in the wrong light. I have no intentions of harm or dischord in publishing this, but I feel that this is a sensitive topic that needs to be discussed.)

Guesting w/Ballet Nova for Nutcracker (Photo: Ruth Judson)

Tis the season for Nutcracker to start calling. I have had a handful of offers through friends and employers that found me through my website. While I always appreciate being contacted to perform, I can't take every offer that comes my way. Sometimes, I am already booked during a period that my services are requested. At other times, an offer may not be substantial enough for the work that I need to put in. While I am passionate about what I do, this is how I make my living and I need to be picky about choosing the best option for myself, artistically and financially.

Last week, I was blown away by a situation that I found myself in. I had been contacted with a request to perform in a school's Nutcracker. While their offer was very generous, their consideration of what constituted a paid performance was not cohesive with mine. In typical fashion, when an offer is not agreeable for me, I either counter-offer or gracefully step out of the negotiation. On this occasion, I felt we could work something out and decided to counter-offer. Instead of receiving a response of agreement, negotiation, or decline, I was sent a scathing four paragraph email that badgered me, tore apart my resume, and tried to devalue my worth. This was all from somebody I had never met and that had never seen me dance. To be completely honest, I was so shocked I couldn't even be upset. Instead of reacting to this difficult response, I ingested the content as a learning experience and replied with a brief note thanking them for taking me into consideration and suggested that they move on to their other options.

While I didn't take this unprovoked attack as a truth, I did gain a lot of insight from my many days of processing this unnecessary response. As a dancer, you are expected to be open, available, and humble. While you are expected to respect the process and the system, that process and system does not have to respect you. I've learned during my 11 years as a professional that while there are human emotions involved in the interactions that take place in the creation of a performance, that in the end, the production takes full precedent over any situation that may involve emotion. Casting, injury, life events, arguments, money, and more. In the end, nothing matters except that the best product be put forth onstage.

When I was in my final year of training at the School of American Ballet, I very clearly remember ingesting one of the most shocking statements made by one of my most respected teachers. "Ok. So you're grandma died this morning. But that person sitting in the audience paid $200 for their ticket. They don't care how you are feeling inside. They want to see a good performance." As difficult as this was to hear, it was true. I've seen this exact scenario play out. I've experienced this scenario myself. Most dancers that have made it to a professional level understand how this system works. And along with all of the other difficulties dancers face, they still put on a good show.

Now, this is where things get complicated. When a dancer works for a company, they only have to deal with production aspects of putting on a show. As a freelancer, there is a bit of work that needs to take place before both parties get to move on to the production stage of dance. Negotiations take place, which can be as simple as an accepted offer or a fine-tuning of details. While some employers understand that the art of negotiating is impartial, others can feel it is an attack on an organization's character. In these situations, where you determine pay, terms of your stay, your workload, and more, certain emotions can be brought forth that have nothing to do with a negotiation. And more often than not, these feelings come from a place that we all started. Our training.

I have discussed this before, but it is important to reiterate it again. Dancers are taught from a young age to be submissive. They are taught that they are expendable and that there are hundreds of other dancers that want their job. For this reason, a majority of the dance world feels that one should be grateful for any job opportunity that arises. It is common for a company to feel that it is a privilege to work with them, less so an accomplishment of one's hard work. But when a dancer leaves the submissive role and tries to stick up for their value or rights, they are suddenly egotistical, hard to work with, and a diva. A prime example of this would be when I worked for an employer that loved me dearly and that I loved dearly as well. While we had a mutual respect for each other, there were often jokes that I was a diva when I would bring up situations that were not commonplace in most of the companies I have danced for. While we were able to laugh at this, I was still gently nudged that I was breaking "dance code" for speaking up for things like not having a break for nearly two hours.

As freelancers, we have to take care of ourselves. If we get hurt on the job, we don't have the privilege of having worker's compensation pay our salary and provide our medical care. If we don't negotiate a comfortable living environment at a home-stay, we have to sit tight or uncomfortably complain to try to find a more agreeable resolution. If we don't negotiate a respectable salary, we can't pay our bills. But it is not uncommon for dancers to be made an offer and expected to accept with full appreciation that they were even given an opportunity to dance. This needs to change.

One of my audition shots - circa 2002 (Photo: Roe O'Connor)

When I was 18 years old, I was offered a contract in the corps of Colorado Ballet. My starting salary was $500 per week. By the time I left Pacific Northwest Ballet, my salary was well into four figures per week. The company I left PNB for offered me nearly one third of what I had been making out northwest and I graciously accepted without negotiation. I began freelancing while dancing with that company. During this time I realized that not only could I barely sustain myself on that salary while I was working, but I couldn't save any money to sustain myself when I wasn't working. And now that I am freelancing full-time, aside from Nutcracker season, most of the work that I am offered usually pays at or below the offer I was made for my very first job. Eleven years after starting my career, I am performing at a higher level than I did at 18 years old and I am, at times, forced to feel ashamed for trying to ask for a livable wage. It is not a matter of asking whether or not this is fair. It is more a matter of asking when those that were once in this position and moved up to leadership roles will respect and appreciate what dancers go through in this career and that their survivability should come before their production.

I am not writing this post to call anybody out and there are some employers that I have worked for that have been greatly generous in their efforts to support me and the other artists that they employ. I think it is important to raise awareness that artists and their value are often abused by the ideals that are imposed by their very training. While some of the ideals that are taught as a student are necessary to create beautiful artists in the most difficult of fields, these ideals need not to be imposed upon fully-grown artists that have worked years to develop and perfect their craft. An artist's value should not be taken lightly. Be grateful when offered work, but don't accept work that is not grateful back. Take a job where you will grow or find value in raising the level of a production, but don't let somebody tell you that your experience doesn't qualify you to respect yourself. Dance as if nobody is watching, but don't dance if nobody wants to foot the bill. While you can't control who is going to value you and your work, the best one can do in their career is to do exactly that for themselves.

(This post is dedicated to James Fayette, former New York City Ballet Principal and current New York area dance executive for AGMA, who was recently injured in a senseless attack in Riverside Park in Manhattan this past week (article). James and I worked together when I was a union rep at PNB. He taught me a great amount of what I know about fighting for dancer's rights. LOFD wishes him a speedy recovery) 

New York Calling

Thank you for your patience over the last few weeks as I have taken a break from writing regular blogs. For over a year, I have been writing continuous posts without a break and after throwing a successful CONTACT event (stay tuned for an upcoming blog), I took a vacation to LA and gave myself a true break. With that said, I am proud to say that Life of a Freelance Dancer was recently published in Dance/USA's online E-journal. This honor is a true testament to the content that is posted in this blog and I couldn't be happier with that. Thank you to my viewers and I can't wait to see what is to come. Now on to this weeks topic!

Bowing as "Puss & Boots" at SAB workshop 2003

At the age of 19, I danced in my final workshop performance as a student with the School of American Ballet, packed up all of my belongings, and hopped in my mom's car to drive home for the last time before joining a big company. It was a very emotional period for me. Not only was I saying goodbye to a group of friends that had become family. I was embarking on a journey that marked the end of my career as a student. All I had known was being a student. Not only did this performance note the finishing of my training, it also put a period on the end of my childhood. On the drive back to Pennsylvania, I began to cry within moments of entering Lincoln Tunnel. My mom asked me why I was crying. I replied that other than missing my real-life friends, I felt like I was leaving behind one of my best friends. New York City. I knew then that the city that never sleeps would always have a place in my heart and that I would one day return.

I moved to Texas to join the Houston Ballet less than a month after my exit from SAB. Being thrown into a new environment, hours and hours of rehearsal, and figuring out how to live on my own, I quickly forgot how much I really missed New York City. As the year passed, I came to realize that having come straight from the country's largest metropolis made it difficult for me to enjoy my transition into Texas-living. I missed walkable streets, good public transport, and having thousands of people breeze by me on their own path. I quickly realized that I needed to find another company in a city where I could live happily. Thus, my journey to Seattle began.

View of the Joyce Theater from the stage

Although I never really fell in love with the city of Seattle, I did find the city a relief from the heat and sprawl of Houston. Again, I had to adjust to my new home and company, but this time I had 7 long years to live, learn, and grow into an adult. By my sixth year in the company, I remember thinking about New York quite often. After joining a small group of PNB dancers on tour to perform at The Joyce Theater, I realized how isolated we really were in the Pacific Northwest. Just stepping foot into Steps on Broadway gave me a great idea of what I had been missing. I consider Steps the Cheers of the ballet world. Nearly every professional I know either takes class regularly or drops into this landmark dance studio when they are in town. There were dancers in class that I hadn't seen in years. Although I realized that these former classmates, colleagues, and friends hadn't forgotten who I was, I felt like I had been missing out on something really important.

I don't know what seed had been planted in me that eventually grew into my yearning to jump ship. But when it happened, I was set. I wanted to live in New York, but I didn't want to join the vast ranks of New York City Ballet or American Ballet Theatre (if they would even take me). So, my partner and I agreed that I would only audition for companies in cities where we wanted to live. The list was San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, Montreal, Boston, Philadelphia, DC, and Miami. If all else failed, we would move to New York and I would freelance. Although this idea mortified me, it felt like the perfect backup plan. Alas, I was offered a job in Philadelphia and we moved to the Mid-Atlantic.

Although I was very excited to move back home (even though I am really from the burbs), I was even more excited to be close to New York again. I was already on a Bolt bus heading to an open rehearsal with a summer gig before I had even really settled into my new apartment. I got off the bus, looked around, and smiled very widely to myself. I was home. But, after spending three weeks in the city performing in the Guggenheim's Works and Process series a few months later, I had a realization. As an adult, I really didn't want to live in the city unless I could enjoy living there. When I was training at SAB, I was on full scholarship, which included classes, housing, meals, and a few more perks. My childhood in New York was a facade. I didn't have to worry about anything financially. It's a very different story as an adult and I wasn't privy to living in my favorite city and scrounging by. I have friends who live in the tiniest apartments at the highest prices. They often skip out on the finer things the city has to offer due to financial restraints. At the same time, I was happy with my transition into a new style of dancing in Philly. Why would I want to leave.

Well, as I have alluded to in the past, after nearly 8 months in our new home city, everything came collapsing down on top of me. I became injured and couldn't afford what I needed to recover. I could barely pay my rent with the greatly reduced salary I had accepted to try something new.  And now that I was injured, fear was really starting to set in as I continued dancing through the pain just to scrounge by. Finally, when I decided to take time off to heal, everything imploded into me. The company had been hiding workers comp from me for months. I found out and the company responded with anger, threats, and lies. All other details aside, it nearly destroyed me, my career, and being. Not only did I fear that I would lose my home and career, I feared walking the streets of my city because I didn't want to run into any part of the close-knit dance scene that only knew a very skewed version of what actually happened. It only felt natural that I run away from the pain and fear and start anew.

After this very challenging experience, it crossed my mind many times that I should pick up and run to New York. Aside from being a great escape, there were freelancing opportunities galore. But money, my partner, and a handful of other life-items kept me from escaping all of this turmoil. Lucky for me, I had all of these things tying me down to Philadelphia. If it weren't for that, I likely would have been reacting, instead of making a conscious, thought-out decision. For this reason, we stayed in Philly and I started living the life of a freelance dancer.

It has been 16 months since these events happened and I am still happily a resident of Philadelphia. Although I find myself traveling more than half the year, I am always excited to return back home. At times, work has brought me to New York. And trying to connect with the greater part of the New York freelance community has kept me coming back. After last week's CONTACT event, I was asked to attend an audition to workshop a piece that could eventually be developed into a much larger show. I found out recently that I had landed the gig and will be spending two weeks in New York at the beginning of August.

What I have come to realize is that although I am not currently a resident of New York, being that it is the center of the dance world, I will always return. Whether as a student, professional, teacher, choreographer, entrepreneur or more. But what I have also realized is that while New York holds a large place in my heart, for the time being it is not my home. And I am perfectly happy with that. In fact, I love Philadelphia. Part of that is due to its' close proximity to New York City.

Quintessential New York City shot - Columbus Circle

Now that I call Philly my home and don't see that changing at any point in the foreseeable future, I am not yearning to be a New Yorker anytime soon. I see myself picking up work in the city and spending large chunks of time in this important hub of dance. But Philly will remain my home-base. New York continues to call and I will continue to answer. I feel any dance-professional, whether a New Yorker or not, feels this way to a degree. And you know what, when it does call. Answer!

How to cope with the holidays away from home

My partner at Thanksgiving dinner in Seattle

It's 11 PM and I am sitting at Applebee's sipping a yuengling waiting for my riblet meal to arrive. I just finished dress rehearsal dancing the cavalier in Rochester City Ballet's Nutcracker and I'm starving! Rehearsal went really well and I hope that my partner and I only continue to grow from there. With such great elation after the run, I am feeling surprisingly manic at the moment. I just got a text from my partner (the life kind) and he is sitting at my mom's house amongst family on this Thanksgiving eve, while I sit by myself eating dinner only to return to my hotel room. As I roll across emotional extremes, I am learning how to cope with being away from loved ones during the holidays.

I was having a conversation with my sister via Facebook a few weeks ago right after arriving at my hotel in Rochester. She was asking me about my current gig and was awe-struck that I work the way I do, essentially a self-touring artist. My response to her awe was that my life is glorious and lonely all at the same time. I get to meet amazing artists and dance on great stages, but I also get lonely and homesick at times. Christmas-time is actually the busiest time for most freelance dancers. Since Nutcracker takes over stages, televisions, and the world during this season, there are more opportunities to work, as everybody wants to bank on this annual production. This means that the likelihood of spending Thanksgiving, Christmas, and all of the inbetween festivities with those close to you decreases greatly the more successful you are.

Seeking T-giving my first year in Seattle

When I got my first job with Houston Ballet as a teenager, I spent my first set of holidays away from close friends and family. Im pretty sure, after a failed turkey baking attempt, a handful of friends and I ended up at Bennigans. We claimed it was the best Thanksgiving ever, but I dont really remember it. I assume that we were just trying to be really positive about the whole fiasco. Within a year of leaving, I created my own family in Seattle (after moving to PNB) and started a relationship with my partner, which has been going strong for nearly 7 years. Aside from that year in Houston and the subsequent one in Seattle, I've always been with close friends or family on Thanksgiving. It makes my heart ache a little bit to write this, but this holiday will be my first without my partner since we got together. And although it makes me sad, I am hardly letting this holiday pass without being proactive about enjoying it.

If you find yourself away from friends and family for the holidays, there are ways that you can stay connected. We are so fortunate to live in a day and age where technology can bring us closer together, even when we are hundreds or thousands of miles apart. I have already set up a time tomorrow to Skype with my family. Even if I am not eating green bean casserole and stuffing at the table, I can be there visually and in spirit. A phone call is comforting, but getting to share some face-time can really help you feel thankful and make you a part of the festivities. I always feel more connected when I can see somebody's reaction in a conversation. In my opinion, people often feel badly during the holidays not because they aren't present, but instead because they feel left out.

Another way to avoid sinking into doldrums while you are, perhaps, alone in a hotel room is to get out. I notice that I feel much more lonely when I isolate myself. It is pretty logical, actually. You may feel slightly down or that you are going to take the holiday to rest up for your gig, but staying in a small room by yourself with a television and the shades drawn is only going to make you feel more removed. If you don't have anything to do or anybody to visit, perhaps, find an open restaurant and sit at the counter/bar. Usually people who are working on a holiday have to work and are missing this precious time with their family as well. It is much easier to strike up a warm conversation on a holiday than it is on most other days. If this form of socializing isn't for you, find a local cinema and enjoy a movie with the crowds that pack theatres on the holidays. You won't feel alone and you won't have to socialize with strangers. No matter what, I suggest that you just get out for a period of time.

Often, beyond family, people miss the traditions that go along with certain holidays. Every Thanksgiving, my partner and I wake up, turn on the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, and bake sugar cookies. We mix all of the ingredients, roll the cookies out, use our 30-something cookie cutters, bake them, and decorate them once they are all golden and delicious looking (our secret is that we always underbake them so they remain super soft). I am currently in a hotel with a microwave and a small refrigerator, therefore making this tradition an impossibility. But, I did buy a couple of cookies and I am planning on catching some portion of the parade. So, although this tradition is not fully realized, I am at least holding a part of the tradition for this year and we can continue it in full the next time we spend the holiday together. If you have a tradition, find a way to keep the spirit of the tradition with you. Small things like this can really help to keep away any holiday sadness that might surface.

Lastly, what is a holiday like Thanksgiving without a huge feast? One thing that I have found is that it is almost impossible to spend a holiday by yourself while on a gig. It warms my heart to say that I have found that people will go out of their way to help make an out-of-town guest feel welcome and wanted on these special days. For instance, the network of people at Rochester City Ballet have been more than generous in offering me a place to spend during this day of thanks. I have received offers to join families for dinner from fellow dancers, administration, wardrobe, physical therapists, and beyond. In fact, I found  it difficult to turn down many of the offers. Most of the time, as a guest, people will welcome you with open arms. But if nothing formulates, don't fret. Just plan ahead. Do some research and find a place that is open for the holiday. Maybe you have been working really hard, pinching pennies, and eating in every night. This could be used as the perfect opportunity to really treat yourself for all of the hard work you've been putting in. Consider seeking out a restaurant that serves a few courses, perhaps with a pairing of drinks for each course. If you aren't comfortable eating on your own, bring your phone, a good book, a journal, or any other item that you enjoy using on your own. Make it a memorable experience and treat yourself.

All in all, the holidays can be a difficult time for anybody that is feeling lonely. Working away from home during this season can easily make you feel alone. As always, it is important to be proactive to make sure that you keep a healthy, happy, and fulfilled holiday season. Stay connected with family and friends, keep traditions as alive as you can, find yourself amongst people, and be merry (even if it is all by yourself). If you are able to stay happy while traveling during the holidays, you will find that this is truly the most fulfilling, lucrative, and wonderful time of the year.

Holiday season - Boston, MA

The importance of taking breaks

Driving towards downtown Los Angeles

The past year and a half has been quite challenging for me, adjusting from the structure of a big-time union company to the wildly changeable life of a freelance dancer. I began auditioning for companies while still working at PNB, often on weekends. I would finish my workweek, take a cab to the airport, fly across the country, audition, and then fly back to begin a new workweek (sometimes flying back early Monday morning and going straight to work). Following this extravaganza, I finished out my last season with the company, moved across the country, danced job after job after job, and taught master classes/subbed whenever possible. It was shocking to my system and I was very clearly running full speed ahead towards burnout. About six weeks ago, my partner made me take a day retreat to assess why I had started developing extreme stress and anxiety symptoms in even the most minor situations. My assessment: I hadn’t even realized that I had been dancing, working, teaching, and stressing about so many life changes for 18 months without taking more than a few days for myself. My plan? Take a month off from dance and dance work, teach minimally, travel somewhere that isn’t in the Philadelphia region, and dye my hair some fun color that I could never sport onstage.

Purple and Blue

Working full-time for a company has many great perks. Aside from rep, finances, touring, and benefits, you are also given structure. PNB had a great contract that provided forty weeks of work a year. This meant that we were laid off for 12 weeks every year. Of course, you could continue dancing during these weeks, but you were afforded the opportunity to take a break if you wanted or needed. As a freelancer, you aren’t governed by an official calendar. If work pops up, chances are you will take it. Freelancers, often living in constant fear of financial disaster, tend to book their schedules dancing with “this” company and teaching at “that” school and “that other” school. My summer included me dancing two gigs in Philadelphia that rehearsed on completely different sides of town and teaching at six different schools, some of which were more than an hour commute each way. On top of all of this, I was taking ballet class in the mornings, going to the gym daily, choreographing a solo that I performed in the Philly Fringe Festival, keeping up this blog, looking for new work, and so much more. I was literally running from place to place. As in, I would dash down the street running to get to my next job. I didn’t have time for anything. My bills were paid, but I wasn’t even aware until my retreat that I couldn’t keep it up much longer. I clearly needed a break.

One of the hardest things to figure out is exactly when one should be taking a break. There are two ways that you can figure this out. The first way is to look at your calendar and determine how long you can practically dance before giving your body a rest. Some dancers need time off after a couple months, while others can go up to six months. One thing that I am sure of is that no dancer can keep their body in peak physical condition 52 weeks a year. You can put time off into your calendar, blocking out one or a few weeks. Of course, these dates can be flexible in the event that a great opportunity presents itself. But you should really try to commit to this time off. The other way to determine when to take a break is impractical and dangerous. Many freelancers beat themselves into the ground until they burn out or become injured. I learned this lesson the hard way, but I figured things out just in time. The hard part was that I didn’t even realize that I was approaching burn out.

In my mind, I was convinced that I had absolutely no choice but to hustle around the city like a prostitute de ballet. At times, I didn’t have a choice. But once I got in the flow of that constant rush and panic, I couldn’t break the pattern. I was rushed and panicked about everything from making ends meet to food shopping. How can you tell if you are approaching burn out? There is no real answer to this question, as I feel that everybody handles stress and workload differently. For me, I first noticed it in my breath. My partner turned to me after I had reacted with unnecessary abrasiveness when he was trying to help me accomplish a task and said, “I haven’t seen you take a full breath in at least two weeks.” I was anxious about the simplest things. At times, I couldn’t even handle our cats meowing when we prepared to feed them, like they do every night. I had begun to lose my ability to cope with normal, everyday stressors. This was my first sign. The second sign that I was running myself into the ground was when I started to question whether I should continue in my profession. Anybody that knows me personally is well aware that I am quite the “bunhead.” I live for dance and try to immerse myself in the art as much as possible. So, it was odd when I started thinking about what my life would be like without dance in it. I knew that I was lying to myself, but I also couldn’t stop playing with the idea. It was almost as if I was teasing myself to take the bait. When burn out is approaching, it is almost like being addicted to a drug. You start ingesting unhealthy thoughts. Though you are quite aware that this kind of thinking is bad for you, you keep going back to that negative thinking. If one gets to this point, it is necessary to take some time off. Essentially, burn out can be a career-threatening injury.

When a dancer has determined that they need to take a break, how do they prepare to take time off? Obviously, the most ideal way is to create some type of savings. This way you can pay your bills and maybe even travel while you are giving your body and mind a rest. With scattered or sometimes low paying work, it can be difficult to create a savings. If you are unable to save enough money to take an extended break, I suggest finding some way to make money while avoiding dancing. Teaching is an option. But, if the plan is to stay away from dance altogether, teaching may not be the best option. If you need to continue bringing in income, perhaps, look for other work that isn’t dance related. Not only will this give your body a chance to recover, but it will hopefully give you time to miss dancing. I think it is important to miss dancing every once in awhile. It builds a greater appreciation for and want to dance. Doing other jobs also gives you a greater range of work experience that will benefit you when you retire from dancing. One could look for desk work at a dance/non-dance institution. If one is looking for short-term work, they could check out Craigslist or ask around. I know some friends that even mention that they are looking for short-term work on Facebook. No matter the avenue, just make sure that you feel comfortable with the situation and that you trust they will compensate as agreed upon prior to doing the job.

Corona Del Mar in Orange County, CA

The best way to take a break is to get out of your working environment for a bit. It was hard for me to stop working, even when I committed to taking some time away from the studio. Because I work from home when I’m not in the studio, it is impossible for me to 100% get my mind off work in my house. To achieve this, my partner and I traveled across the country to Los Angeles for a week. We had a bit of money saved up, but we didn’t have the funds to do a luxurious vacation. We decided that the best way to do this would be to visit my partner’s hometown. He has tons of family and friends in LA, so this seemed like a great option. We both have a credit card directly linked to an airline, so we were able to use a voucher to greatly reduce the price of flying. Essentially, we paid for one round-trip ticket and split the cost. Then, once we arrived in LA, we either stayed with friends or family. This cut the cost of hotels. The only expenses that we needed to afford were food and renting a car. My suggestion if you want to get out of your home-base is to find a location where you can stay with a friend or family and make it work. If that isn’t a possibility because you need to stay home to work, I would suggest, at least, taking a weekend get-away. Take a train/bus/drive to another town or city nearby. If you can afford one night at a hotel, go for it. If not, go on Groupon or Livingsocial and look for deals or adventures that will get you out of the house and offer a fun or new experience. Whatever you do, be sure that you are giving yourself a chance to enjoy yourself. Freelancing is stressful and requires time to decompress and get your mind off work. 

I began this blog en route to Los Angeles and am finishing the post a day after arriving back home. I didn’t touch it the entire week I was taking a break, even though I was tempted. Lynne Goldberg (link in my friends of freelancers column) is a life-coach for many great dancers in our community, including Edwaard Liang, Maria Kowrowski, and Kathryn Morgan. We were having a conversation a couple of months ago where she mentioned that repeated thoughts create wiring in the brain. Once you have created that wired connection, it is hard to break the pattern of thought. I really agree with this concept. I spent a large part of my vacation struggling with guilt that I was getting out of shape, falling behind in work, and losing valuable opportunities that I should be seeking. Even with these thoughts, I did not work. The emails and phone calls came in and I responded that I wouldn’t be available until the following week. I feel that the reason I struggled so much to relax was because I have wired my brain to be in a constant state of staying in shape, looking for work, and stress for the last 18 months. I still need to work on relaxing and taking time for myself, but this vacation was a good first step. I am positive that taking short breaks more often will help me find a healthier balance, physically and mentally. In this difficult career, not only do we have to enjoy our work, but we need to find time away so that we remain healthy and passionate about our artform.

Driving into the sunset (and palm trees) in Long Beach

The importance of your freelancing friends

The best quality that a freelancer can bestow is great networking/social skills. Most of the work that our type of artist obtains is based purely on an outgoing, friendly, and trustworthy personality. Even though dancers rarely speak onstage, this career is, perhaps, more social than most others. Freelance dancers need to be engaging in order to woo employers, as well as friends. If a dancer is more of a loner and less friendly, they will be much less likely to survive in this field. Not only are my freelancing friends very important to me on the basic premises of friendship, but they are also very important in helping me find and obtain work.

When I spent my first summer away from home at the age of 16 with Houston Ballet Academy at their annual summer intensive, I made it a point to learn the first and last name of every dancer living in the dorms and in my classes. I continued this practice at every program I attended. At the time, I thought I was just being friendly. But what I was really doing was fine tuning my networking skills. Who knew where each young hopeful's career would lead them? And who knows how valuable a friendship in this career can be for you, personally or professionally. While many of these dancers eventually left their pursuit of a ballet career to pursue other interests, a small contingent of us moved on to become high-quality performance artists. The connections that I've made all the way back to my first summer program experience through to my career as a big company dancer to my foray into freelancing have been the most valuable aspect of this harsh life of a freelance dancer.

Performing in a gig Matthew got me (Photo: Dmitri Popadakov)

When I was traveling around the country seeking a job after choosing to leave the prestige of PNB, I met a man by the name of Matthew Prescott (Matthew was recently featured in this Pointe Magazine article speaking about freelancing). Matthew started his career with the Joffrey, but eventually transitioned into full-time freelancing. He was freelancing with the company that I was auditioning for at the time. I was auditioning in a warm-up class prior to a performance onstage. We got to chatting and he told me about his lifestyle as a freelancer. Not knowing whether I would eventually be offered a contract from any of the companies I was auditioning for, I asked Matthew if he could give me some pointers about getting freelance work. After that audition, we became friends on Facebook. Ever since, Matthew has been a great source of assistance for me.

After I had taken a seasonal contract with that same company, Matthew was the first person to email me with information about a gig. He had worked with this person before, but was unavailable during the dates that the employer needed him to dance. I felt honored and nervous. My freelance career had begun. Over time, I have come to learn the importance of sharing work with your freelancing friends. Matthew was the first person to show me this and I feel it was a very valuable lesson.

Finding work can be challenging, especially considering that most opportunities are offered to dancers that already have a close relationship with a company or school. It can be expensive for both a company/school or dancer to audition, especially if it is only for a short term contract. Often, companies want to go with a dancer they already know is of quality, respectable, and easy to work with. When the chosen dancer isn't available, a company is highly likely to go with someone suggested by the dancer who wasn't available. For this reason, maintaining relationships with your freelancing network is of great importance. And not only should we nomadic dancers accept work from friends, we should reciprocate the favor. This "you pat my back, I'll pat yours" culture is integral to the survival of many dance artists.

Another reason that freelancing friends are so important is for the support system they can offer. Not only can they help you get work, but they can help you with the many obstacles this career can throw at you. Am I asking for too much money? Is it appropriate to ask for transportation to be provided? This situation seems unprofessional and unsafe. Am I overreacting? These are a few questions that friends who have "already been through it" have helped me answer. Beyond that, these friends can also be a great source of moral support.

Me, Jen Goodman, and Joel Prouty performing "It Makes Me Nervous" by Avi Scher (Photo: Matthew Murphy)

Something I have been generally quiet about is that I went through a particularly tough period this summer. I was expecting to be working all summer when my situation changed quickly. I was forced to scramble for work in a short period of time and this put me in a few precarious positions in order to make ends meet. When I was feeling particularly down, I reached out to a friend that I met while dancing with Avi Scher and Dancers in the Guggenheim's "Works and Process" program (See blog here). Jennifer Goodman was a long-time Joffrey dancer that took up freelancing after new artistic director Ashley Wheater took over the company. Jen offered me this great advice about freelancing that really lifted my spirits and helped me make sense of what I was going through. "I had to let go of my usual comfort zone and wanting to know and control things and just go with the flow." When you are short on work or have little lined up, emotions bubble to the surface. Jen helped me put things into perspective. Within weeks of receiving this uplifting email, I went from having little work lined up to being generally booked for the next seven months with projects that I am excited to be a part of. It just goes to show how manic this freelancing career can be and how your emotions/self-worth can quickly change suit based on your current situation. During this time, many more of my freelancing friends were great sources of support. Honestly, comfort from those who have been through what you are going through is more comforting than most support that loved one's can offer.

Freelancing can be as rewarding as it is challenging. It definitely isn't for everyone. It requires patience, emotional strength, steely nerves, and, of course, boatloads of talent. In full-time companies, you have your coworkers in the same room with you to rely on for support every day. As a freelance dancer, you're freelancing friends, while not always close in distance, become your coworkers and support system. With that, I will leave you with just one more piece of advice Jen gave me. "Embrace the unknown, go with the flow, take in every new experience good or bad, and trust that all this is happening for a reason and aligned with your life path."

(Stay tuned for a guest blog post by Jen Goodman)