Accepting Payment at the End of a Gig

Performing with the cast of CVDA's The Nutcracker

I recently performed in yet another production of every non-dancer's favorite holiday production of The Nutcracker. The shows went well, I wore white tights onstage for the first time this season, and I made a pretty penny all while playing the role of King of the Cranes, or the actual title of the role, Sugar Plum Fairy Cavalier. When all was said and done, I'm glad that I participated yet again in this seasonal tradition. One of my favorite memories from this year's production was watching one of my former students from Alaska, whom I still mentor, perform in one of his first professional guesting gigs. He performed the role of Snow King and did a stellar job at jumping in, learning the choreography quickly, and delivering solid performances. During the final intermission of his 3 show run, as I took the stage to warm up and prepare my presentation of the Sugar Plum Fairy, I noticed my student sitting on the side of the stage, fully-costumed with sweat dripping down his brow. I took a moment to determine why he was still sitting around in costume during the intermission when I quickly noted that his hands were holding a handful of Amtrak tickets that needed to be reimbursed for his travel to rehearsals and the theatre. Considering I have been mentoring this kid for some years, I kindly walked over, suggested he get changed, and hang around to watch the 2nd act of the production. What I hadn't contemplated until that moment is that there is actually an art to receiving payment that nearly every freelancer will experience at some point as a gig comes to an end.

There are a handful of different payment arrangements that can be made in order to make sure that a freelancer is compensated appropriately and within a respectful time frame. I've spoken about some of these in previous blogs, so I am not going to go into way too much detail here. If a dancer is spending a handful of weeks dancing for an employer, they often receive weekly paychecks or direct deposit into their bank account. But for many freelancers, especially during times like the holiday Nutcracker season, directors often save payment until the end of the last performance of a series. While I have sometimes received a nice little thank you note with payment at the top of my last show, it is much more common to be handed a check after you've received your applause, taken off your makeup, and changed into street clothes. This makes sense, especially if this is your first time working for a company or school. The organization likely wants to be sure you fulfill all of your contractual obligations before handing over your handsome fee. Sometimes, this transaction is taken care of quickly and goes over without thought or attention. Other times, you may be ready to head home, to your hotel, or to the airport, and wondering when you are going to be compensated for you artistic services.

For my student, he found himself in an awkward predicament. He wasn't performing or bowing in the second act, plus he had a local friend ready to drive him to the train back into the city. Since the train wasn't until later, I suggested he wait around and watch the rest of the show. I offered this advice for one reason. The director of a show, who usually issues payment, is likely overwhelmed with the process of making sure that the performance is running on track. From dancers to crew to wardrobe, audience, and beyond, there are many aspects of a show that a director must take care of in order to keep things running smoothly. To stop the director in their tracks asking for payment could be a huge distraction and may even make your intentions and desire to work come off greedy. You don't want it to look like you are only focused on the paycheck. You are a part of a production and there is a certain amount of excitement, emotion, and cultural etiquette that can quickly be cut off or broken by asking for payment. This may be especially true if you head out before the show is over. You want to be supportive of the show and your cast, especially if you are performing for a school and being brought in as a role model.

Now, if you absolutely have a time crunch where you need to get out of the theatre to catch transport, be sure to discuss this with the director prior to the beginning of the show. This is quite understandable, but should be addressed in advance. Usually, the director will make sure that they or an advocate are available to pay you on your way out. Or they often will just give you payment at the top of the show.

So, what do you do if the show has finished and you still haven't been paid? Sometimes, the overwhelming chaos at the end of a production can make a director forgetful, as the crew loads out, the wardrobe collects costumes to be cleaned and stored, and the dancers congratulate one another and change into street clothes. It is possible that intentions can get lost. In this situation, it is perfectly appropriate to seek out the director and request payment. This can be a bit awkward since nobody likes to talk money. But I find that writing a simple thank you card and handing it to them after the series can be an easy pathway to remind them that they owe you something. Think along the lines of a reminder that some type of exchange should be happening. Beyond this, it is good etiquette and relationship building to do this. If you didn't think ahead and get a thank you card, be sure to say goodbye and offer a verbal thank you. And if you still aren't handed your hard-earned salary, do ask when you should expect to receive a check. This is a customary way of saying, "I need to be paid", without demanding it. Usually, by this point, you will be collecting your salary. If not, then that is an entirely different conversation and blog post.

It is a rare occasion when payment isn't received at the end of a show, unless another arrangement has been agreed upon. As I always say, make sure you get an idea of when you should receive payment in writing (or at least in an email). It is never appropriate for an employer to pay you whenever they feel like it. You should know when to expect payment in order to keep track of whether you've been compensated or not. In fact, New York City recently passed the Freelance Isn't Free Act (have they been reading my blog 😉), which requires any freelance artist that makes more than $800 with an organization to have a written contract and receive payment in full within 30 days. This seems like a fair guideline to hold all organizations to, whether you live in New York City or not.

As I've stated many times in this blog, money can be one of the most awkward and uncomfortable things to discuss. But it is important that you get paid within an appropriate time frame. If you don't know when to expect being paid, don't wait around hoping it will happen. Be proactive and start a conversation. Just make sure that you don't start that conversation too late or in the middle of a hectic performance.

Be sure to check out my Holiday Shopping Ideas for Dancers on Pas de Chát: Talking Dance on iTunes - Me & my niece playing around before Nutcracker

Who to Thank & How to Do It

There are many rituals and etiquette that exist in our beautiful dance world. Some of them are more universal across companies, like saying "merde" or "toi toi" to cast mates to wish them well before a show or making sure you don't step over a fellow dancer's legs to stave off bad luck. Other practices can be more specific to a company and their culture, like performing a pinky circle with the cast prior to curtain or giving a speech to performers right before the show starts. There are a variety of practices and superstitions that take place from production to production, including ways to say thank you. Considering the holiday season is upon us and Thanksgiving launches us straight into Nutcracker season, I thought I should share the people you want to thank and how to thank them appropriately.

Dance Partner:

R&J w/Fort Wayne Ballet (Photo: Jeffrey Crane)

If all goes well throughout the rehearsal process, you and your partner may become quite close. Whether things work out that way or not, it is appropriate to offer thanks to your partner in some way. Most commonly, dancers say thank you in the shape of a merde gift before the first show of the role you dance together. If you are doing 10 shows in a production, you can leave a card and a small gift to show your appreciation in your partner's dressing room spot. I've always enjoyed looking for gifts that make sense for the role we were dancing. For instance, when I danced Romeo in Romeo and Juliet, I gave my partner a rose, a card, and some Hershey kisses to represent the love we created onstage. If you interact with your partner a lot, definitely at least offer a card. If you have short fleeting moments onstage together, it isn't necessary to go out of your way to get them something. A simple spoken thank you at the end of the performance should suffice.

Coach:

If you are performing a role that requires great depth and are assigned a single coach to help pull out the best qualities in your performance, it may be appropriate to get a thank you for their investment in your career. Like I said above, if you are having a normal rehearsal interaction with a ballet master, then a simple thank you will do. But if this coach has gone out of their way to bring out the best performance you can give, be sure to write them a note and consider buying them flowers, candy, or something meaningful related to the role that you are performing.

Choreographer/Stager:

If a choreographer creates a new work on you or a stager comes in to set a ballet and does a stellar job of preparing the dancers, it is completely appropriate to purchase a gift to show your appreciation. Back when I danced at Pacific Northwest Ballet, we would designate somebody or a dancer would claim responsibility to come up with an appropriate gift for the occasion. Whether it was flowers or an inside joke between everyone in the cast, this one responsible dancer would determine the cost of the item/s to be bought and collect cash from each dancer who wants to contribute. Once the purchase was made, there would always be a card on hand for those that contributed to sign their name and, perhaps, write a short note.

Boss:

It is extremely rare for a dancer to go out of their way to express thanks to their boss outside of a verbal display of appreciation. Buying a gift for somebody that holds a lot of power can make it difficult to tell if it is truly to express thanks or is instead a way to seek favor and positive attention from the big guy or gal who is making decisions about your career. If you really want to let your boss know you appreciated getting a role or enjoyed an opportunity to try something new, schedule a meeting or wait for your evaluation.

Cast mates:

Sometimes, you and your cast mates really click in a work. And, sometimes, people go out of their way to do something kind for the whole cast. This is rare, can become expensive, and can take a lot of time to prepare during your precious downtime. The best and most common way that I have seen dancers do something to show appreciation for their fellow dancers is to go home and bake something tasty. Cookies, cake, or candy are the perfect way to say thank you to a large group of people, as they are relatively inexpensive, can be produced en masse, and are also a good pick me up during difficult show weeks.

My Cast at the National Choreographers Initiative (Photo: Dave Friedman)

Host:

If you are freelancing and find yourself living with a host, it is considered gracious to leave a little thank you on the counter when you head home (or offer in person if that floats your boat). If you are only staying with a host for a few days, a simple thank you card will do. But if you have spent a significant amount of time living in your host's home, it is appropriate to get something more for them. My favorite go-to is a bottle of wine or Prosecco if they drink alcohol. If they don't, something thoughtful with a card leaves a nice impression and can help build long lasting friendships. And, even better, if you are a freelance artist, you can write off up to $25 of the cost on your taxes, as this is a business expense.

Anybody That Went Out of Their Way for You:

It isn't necessary for you to thank each and every person that does something for you. Maybe your dresser was extra helpful or the conductor paid extra attention to your request to slow down the tempo for your solo. Since these people are just doing their job (and are stellar at it, too) a simple verbal thank you is more than enough to express your appreciation for those that have helped you perform at your best. Now, if somebody went way out of their way to assist you in getting on the stage, like if a physical therapist gave you extra attention in an emergency or somebody from wardrobe saved your life helping with quick changes, it could be a beautiful gesture to write them a short thank you in the form of a card. Here, it really is the thought that counts. And this is just good, basic relationship building skills at their best.

Yourself:

Don't forget that it is also really great to thank yourself. Give yourself a day off at the end of a production that doesn't involve going to a party, drinking alcohol, or anything else that could be too draining. Buy yourself that cupcake you wouldn't allow yourself to have because you had to wear a white unitard. Or, even better, treat yourself to a good deep-tissue sports massage or for a few dips at your favorite Russian baths. It is easy to think about being thankful to those around you. But you were just as much a part of creating magic onstage as everyone around you.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!!

I will actually be releasing a podcast on Pas de Chát: Talking Dance tomorrow about Cultivating Thankfulness. So, if you are looking to find ways to be more thankful in your life, be sure to tune into that starting Friday! Happy Thanksgiving!

*EVENT ALERT* - Managing the Freelance Life - Monday, Dec. 5th - 5-7 PM at Gibney Dance

A few years ago, I produced a New York City-based event called Contact: A Networking Event for Freelance Dancers. While I haven't produced this event in the past few years, finding new ways to bring the freelance dance community together continues to be an important aspect of my work. Back in September, I was called into The Dancers' Resource and Career Transitions for Dancers to talk about events that may benefit those dancers, choreographers, and teachers who already work as freelancers or need more information about how to freelance. I am very excited to say that these great organizations asked me to speak at their first event catered to the freelance community on Monday, December 5th from 5-7 pm at Gibney Dance (280 Broadway). So, if you are looking for information to begin working as a freelance artist, need some tips for success, or are looking for a chance to meet other freelancers, feel free to join us for this free event, Managing the Freelance Life - Strategies for Success. Please share this with all of the freelancers you know (dancers, dance educators, choreographers).  If you plan on attending, please be sure to RSVP by clicking here. I hope to see you there and be sure to come up to me at the event and let me know that you heard about here on Life of a Freelance Dancer! Cheers!

Healing Divides through the Arts

"Dear Barry. Don't sit down and consider what you want to write. Open up your iPad, take a deep breath, and create a post about exactly what you want to talk about in the moment."

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I'm glad I'm giving myself permission to write freely, openly, and without prompt. I've been spending a great deal of time since Tuesday feeling the pull of generalized and social media telling me how to feel. When I angrily turn off the television or slam my computer shut, I sit in my own mind and begin doing the same. "Barry! It's time to move on. You need to find some way to focus and accept what has happened." It feels nice that by writing this I can remind myself through my work that it is alright to choose my own path through any experience.

Not all, but a great majority of us United States artists experienced a devastating loss early Wednesday morning when Donald Trump was named President-Elect of our great country. Aside from the explosive release of the most stressful, negative campaign on record, people of all minorities sunk deeply into their seats imagining how their rights, safety, and livelihood would be affected by this news. I wasn't sleeping at home that night, instead on my friend's couch on the 19th floor of an apartment overlooking a frighteningly silent New York City. I felt alone and dazed until I finally fell asleep. But not before only one tear dropped down my cheek onto my pillow.

I woke up the next morning equally dazed. I couldn't turn on my regular morning talk show, The Today Show. I couldn't watch anything where I had to see people happy or faking their disposition for a television audience. I almost couldn't bring myself to pack my clothes and get changed to stop and take class at Steps on Broadway before I headed back to Philadelphia. But I somehow found myself standing at the front of the studio, barre in hand and taking the deepest breath as I began moving my body to the sullen melody our pianist played expressing himself in the best way he knew. Like the moments before a drug kicks in, you are already committed to the ride. Just you don't know exactly how profound or regret-filled this experience may get.

With such intense emotions clearly at the throats of this room of 40 or so dancers, we all began to do the one thing we knew. We began to look into ourselves. We began to look at ourselves. And we began to work on the only thing that was truly in our control. Ourselves. And slowly, but surely, teary eyes and broken hearts turned into smiles, hard work, and determination. At this point, I knew everything was going to get better.

We dancers are the lucky ones. We truly are. On even the darkest days, we have something to turn to, something to distract us, something to improve our very being. And even better than the fact that art heals, it makes us more compassionate people. People who understand the way the world works a little better, who can look at someone unlike us and see that they deserve no more than we do, and who aren't afraid to express the best and worst parts of being human. When tragedy strikes, we share our voices silently and express physical grief to heal others. When seething differences become apparent, we explore how to look at this person with compassion and understanding.

There is so much that art offers during trying times. And I fear that we may need art more than ever over the next few years as our leader's core-values seem to be heading in the direction of reinstating old, regressive, and potentially hateful ideals within our progressive nation. So, as we continue on this journey of life in and out of the dance world, I urge anybody who reads this to go out and work on improving yourself first. Then, once you feel that the time is right, find ways to use your art to help society cope, understand, and move forward with the challenges that our great nation will face as it tries to find a middle ground among a divided nation.

Halloween Edition - 11 Scary Thoughts Dancers Have

It's been a while since I've done a list post. And it's Halloween weekend, so I thought I'd have a little fun with this one. If you are looking for high-brow, in-depth quality content, stay tuned for my next post or look at my previous posts via this link. For now, please enjoy these 11 SCARY thoughts that different types of dancers have.

           
via GIPHY

The Freelance Dancer - "Well, this is a really nice gig, but I don't have anything else lined up after this. Could this be the end of my career?"

           
via GIPHY


The Street Dancer - "What if this subway car slams on the breaks while I'm doing my big finale?"

           
via GIPHY


The Company Dancer - "If I show up to class in costume, will the director think that I'm not serious about my dance career and take it out on me in casting?"

           
via GIPHY


The Open Class Dancer -"What am I going to make for dinner after this class?"

           
via GIPHY


The Broadway Dancer - "If I have to do this show one more time,  will I lose my mind!"

           
via GIPHY


The Break Dancer - "Does spinning on my head increase my risk of balding?"

           
via GIPHY


The Pre-Professional Dancer - "This is my second year at this finishing program. If I don't get a job by the end of this year, does that mean I need to quit and go to college?"

           
via GIPHY


The Ballroom Dancer - "Why is she talking to that other guy over there? Is she plotting to switch partners?"

           
via GIPHY


The Recreational Dancer - "What will ever come of my true aspirations to have a dance career if I'm not cast as Clara in The Nutcracker this year?"

           
via GIPHY


The Club Dancer - "If I go out there and dance, everybody is clearly going to only be watching and judging me, right?"

           
via GIPHY


The Stay-at-Home Dancer - "What if my Husband is secretly filming me sing and dance to my 90's playlist while I am vacuuming the floor to post it on the internet?"

           
via GIPHY

Acting Professionally in a Rehearsal Studio

The Royal Ballet in rehearsal (Photo: Unknown)

Rehearsal etiquette is one of the many unspoken areas of our silent art form. There is no particular way that each and every rehearsal studio is run. But at the same time, there are general no-no's (and yes-yes') that are taught within the culture of a company as they create, fine-tune, and prepare a work for the stage.

Back a handful of years ago I was working with a pickup company that employed enough dancers to fill a small rehearsal room. In other words, our athletic group of 8 had to get along considering our company's size. A few of us were more seasoned than the others. But one dancer was enjoying the raw, empowering, and often shocking experience of their first job as a professional. Previously, I talked about my experience at my first full-time job with Houston Ballet and how I stepped on dancer's toes without even realizing it. After watching this type of situation from the other side, as a senior dancer, I was taught a lesson in kindness, patience, and humility.

Dancing for a big company is very different than dancing for a small ensemble. In a bigger company, dancers often feel more comfortable being up front (if not, sometimes, mean) when trying to streamline a young dancer into their place in the unique culture of a professional company. If any interaction becomes tense, dancers can retreat into their clique for comfort or hide behind other dancers who are more willing to stand their ground. But in a small company, there is nowhere to hide, very little hierarchy, and everybody has to interact frequently with one another in the studio.

Smuin Ballet in rehearsal (Photo: Chris Hardy)

Back to the occasion of watching this new dancer enter a rehearsal studio without the assimilation that the rest of us dancers had. It was a generally difficult situation to endure. The leadership wasn't very good at running a rehearsal studio and they let the dancers have a bit too much control over what happened. This new dancer became a stressor for other dancers as they were acting in ways that went way beyond the etiquette of most professional environments. Things like actively telling other dancers how to fix their dancing, counting over the choreographer, and regularly interrupting the process to crack jokes became the norm. And while the other dancers with more experience didn't approve of this behavior, the director and ballet mistress chose to allow it to continue.

Now, it is perfectly healthy to run a studio where dancers feel that they are a valuable part of the process, where the environment is light and friendly, and where a dancer feels that they can speak up when they feel that something isn't working properly. But this dancer started to become a distraction and affected the ability of others to work to the best of their abilities. Due to the size of the company, where another more experienced dancer may have talked to their freshly minted colleague, this dancer was left continually breaking "rehearsal-code" for the extent of the gig. This was most likely due to the fact that, in such a small group, everybody knew that a small amount of tension between two dancers would be felt by all.

In this company, many of the dancers looked up to me and respected my work. And for that reason, it was suggested by some that I speak to this dancer to give them an idea of professional rehearsal etiquette. But, as I stated before, I felt it would cause too much tension and that it was actually the responsibility of those in the front of the studio to hone this character in. Looking back, I'm glad I maintained this position. But this is the advice that I would offer that dancer today if I were the person at the front of the studio.

First things first, the way you act in a rehearsal studio as a student is completely different than when you are a professional. Most students who become professionals have reached the top of the hierarchy of a school. Essentially, if the school had a ranking, these dancers are the Principals of the school. In a professional company, a top-level student most often enters at the lowest rank and seniority. In most professional rehearsal setting, Principals have more leeway and freedom in their choices, actions, and vocal interaction than others. Not to say that a new professional can't have a voice or input. But it is the job of an apprentice or first year dancer to sit back and absorb what is happening around them. They don't have equal cultural standing to those higher ranked or more senior dancers. Just like in medieval times, the apprentice to the blacksmith didn't walk in on day one and start working with the iron. It may have taken a long time before the mentor allowed the apprentice to even touch any equipment, let alone lead the creation of a work of art.

My next bit of advice is to keep an open mind about your idea of what a rehearsal should look like. School rehearsals are often much slower paced with more time to retain choreography, fine-tune, and engage in conversation. Many professional environments are much faster-paced and don't open up the room to ask questions or discuss particular material until all of the material is already out. This is to help streamline the process and may even be an effective money-saver. In school, most of the students are paying to dance. In a professional environment, time is money. The longer dancers are in rehearsal, the more they get paid and the more time spent paying for rehearsal space (esp. in freelance or project based gigs that don't have a home studio). There are reasons for professional rehearsal culture that go beyond personalities and people getting along.

Joffrey Ballet in rehearsal (Photo: Lenny Gilmore)

The final idea I'd like to share about rehearsal etiquette is a grey area that is fluid from company to company, but generally recognized in some way or another. I'd like to bring up seniority and respect for dancers with more experience. One of the big issues with this fresh, new dancer was that they felt their presence in the studio was absolutely equal in contribution to the more experienced dancers around them. I'd love to say that this is the perfect ideal, but it was actually one of the most challenging aspects of working with this person. The difficulty laid in looking at them as a person versus their job and position as a dancer. As a person, we all enjoyed this dancer very much and wanted to give them a chance to find their place. But as a dancer, many of us felt disrespected by this person's actions. For instance, a young dancer should never think it is acceptable to offer unwarranted corrections to a more senior dancer. Additionally, taking over a rehearsal space and telling dancers how to count or how your exploration of the process is more correct can be horribly disrespectful and doesn't acknowledge a dancer's wisdom gained from time put in. Whether a young dancer is more naturally talented than a senior dancer doesn't play into the fact that dancers with seniority have spent years fine-tuning their technique, movement, and rehearsal practice. The value in hiring more senior dancers is that they have existed in a professional dance studio much longer than younger dancers. They are brought back to dance for an organization because they have a very keen sense of how to work effectively and professionally in a variety of work environments. Even a dancer with immense talent can not innately understand this. And for this reason, it is extremely important that they take a step back and absorb the culture that experienced dancers project. Because in the end, these senior dancers are not projecting their own idea of the culture. They are projecting the culture that came before them and taught them that culture and so on. You are essentially being taught the cultural history of the company by learning from those who came before you, absorbing it, and then will hopefully pass it on when you aren't the young or new one any more.

As you can see, I shied away from sharing too many specific items about how to act in a studio. This is mostly because each and every studio functions differently and most effectively per the needs of an organization. I don't want any dancer to ever feel completely stifled by trying to fit in to the culture of a dance company's rehearsal process. But if you approach a professional rehearsal studio with respect for those around you and respect for what came before, it will be much easier to acclimate to dancing for a company. And, if you are lucky enough, perhaps, you will have the staying power to become one of those dancers that helps the next generation learn a company's culture from your fine example.

Get Out of Your Comfort Zone - Honeymoon Edition

One of my images from our trip to Machu Picchu

Hola mi amigos! I'm BACK!!!! I hope that you haven't missed me too much. At the moment, I'm flying high on a travel-bender sitting in the aeropuerto in Lima, Peru. This isn't the first or second time I've been here in the past few weeks. But it is definitely the longest period with my current layover time queueing at 6 hours (only 2 more to go). Over the past 3 weeks, I have bartered at ramshackle markets in horribly broken Spanish with excessively wooing Peruvian ladies in Lima. I've experienced the short and light-headed breathlessness of Soroche (or altitude sickness) that walking only a few wildly tight, steeply climbing streets of historically scenic Cusco, Peru can quickly bring on. Shortly after my time in Peru, I was again fumbling through my Spanish to order enough pisco sours to loosen up and dance among the locals at a club in Santiago, Chile. Whether struggling through a conversation to purchase a bus ticket to Valparaiso, Chile, navigating the Subte (subway) in Buenos Aires, Argentina, or finding our way to the historical center of Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay, my husband and I spent our amazing 3 week South American honeymoon utterly and uncomfortably out of our comfort zones. But it was all worth it to make it to the centerpiece of our journey, and to one of the new 7 Natural Wonders of the World, Machu Picchu! I know you've missed me (or at least my posts ;-) ) over these past weeks, but I hope you forgive me for my silence during our travels. And, even better. There's a lesson here for all!

Exploring the historic Plaza de Armas of Cusco, Peru

These past few weeks of travel have been full of fun, excitement, discomfort, frustration, unexpected joy, utter submission, and much love. A flooding array of emotions and challenges can accompany what sounds like a fun, daring adventure. But with good intentions come hard lessons. Here, food poisoning from eating at a questionable airport restaurant, exchanging money on a random street that all the travel blogs wrote to go to in order to save big bucks on exchange rates (too bad they stopped writing those blogs two years ago when these cambios, or cash houses, became obsolete and...maybe...even illegal), or walking a few miles into a sketchy neighborhood without any phone service or knowledge of transportation out of there. But at the same time, watching an ancient Inca site breathing through heavenly clouds, haggling a silkenly soft alpaca sweater to the equivalent of $10 USD, seeing the most incredible display of street art carved into the cutest city on earth, and standing by your new spouse's side to share these experiences was well worth the moments that thrust us anywhere but close to comfortable.

I wanted to talk a bit about what I've been up to, and at the same time create some relevant content for you guys. In my thought process while prepping to write this piece, it clicked for me that it was time to talk about getting out of our comfort zones. There are many ways to get out of your comfort zone. For instance, I am an expert traveler. But only when it comes to domestic travel within the United States. I haven't been out of the country in 6 years as I've focused on building certain aspects of my career. For me, I could have stayed comfortable and had my honeymoon in the US. But that idea, while easy and relaxing, would have been completely within my husband and my comfort zone. We threw around the possibility of traveling somewhere international, but in a more developed country with lavish, comfortable accommodations. This option would have been slightly out of our comfort zone, but still offer us some ease of mind and relaxation to celebrate our union. But if any of you have gotten to know me over the years while reading Life of a Freelance Dancer, you know that neither of those experiences are close to my style (nor my husbands).

Enjoying art in the Parque Esulturas in Santiago, Chile

When Danya and I looked into honeymoon options, we were most excited by traveling to places where there was a strong language barrier, where in some places you can't even brush your teeth with the water, where people asked to pose in pictures with me because they had never seen somebody with green eyes before, and where there is the possibility that we may find ourselves in potentially dangerous situations (nothing too crazy, right). Why, you may ask, would a newlywed couple want to thrust themselves this far out of their comfort zones on such an occasion as their honeymoon? Because we thrive on experiences that force us to grow, force us to question the way that we live our lives, and force us to open our minds to the possibility of greater understanding (in many areas of of life) than we have today. I feel this is a relevant lesson in life, society on a global scale, and even dance.

I remember back when I first fell in love with ballet. I didn't know much about what I was doing, aside from the knowledge that there was this amazing school where kids were selected to dance in the mornings and afternoons (the School of American Ballet) and got to focus on dance like I had been focusing on math and science. I also knew that I was a little behind, but felt I might be able to catch up if I did enough research and worked my ass off. I pulled open the January 2000 issue of Dance Magazine and decided to ask if I could audition for the summer intensives I had found with either the biggest ads or in the biggest cities (because, ya know, the bigger the city or the bigger the ad, the better the company?). I was lucky to have a supportive family and an even more supportive teacher and school director to help me follow my uncultivated dream. I jumped into the deep-end fast, and nobody stopped to second guess my ambition. And I guess a lot hasn't changed since then.

Enjoying the centerpiece of our honeymoon, Machu Picchu

After all of my summer intensive auditions that year, even as a male, I had only been accepted to a small handful of the programs I applied for (practically none with scholarship). One that gave me a minor scholarship and really stood out to me was Houston Ballet Academy. I had also received a full-ride to the now defunded Pennsylvania Governor's School for the Arts, where my mom was an alumni in their vocal department. Obviously, after her experience there, I was given a gentle, but clear push to go where the money was because I was almost guaranteed a lot of attention (especially being a male dancer) and my mom knew I would have a positive experience there.

But in typical Barry fashion, I had my eyes set on jumping into a pool of water with no definitive bottom. At the time, I just did it. But I can explain this decision more clearly now. I innately knew that there were two ways to grow as a person; in small, safe building steps or in one fell swoop with great potential for success or failure. I made the choice to put a lot of money on one number, instead of buying a handful of inexpensive scratch tickets from the lottery.

Dancing thru a tour of Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires

Looking back, I feel I did this for a good reason. If I went to the Governor's School, I would be exposed to something slightly comfortable and something slightly unknown. I would slowly begin developing a new taste for different styles of training. From there, I could slowly build to the next step. Going to Houston Ballet Academy for the summer, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Nobody I knew had attended the program previously, but I had heard positive things about it through the grapevine during auditions and from the company's very limited internet presence (remember, it was the early days of the internet). Something told me that I needed to be in an environment that I didn't understand, that tested my belief system, and that showed me a new way of looking at the world, only here it was the ballet world. I truly believe that this first risk I took in my career, before it was even a career, changed the trajectory of my life and was a major turning point in getting where I have been, where I am, and where I am going.

There is so much to learn from putting oneself out there in multiple different aspects of their lives, especially as an artist. It is the job of an artist to offer unexplored perspectives to audiences for acceptance, discomfort, and expansion of their own values and life experiences. If one doesn't want to push themselves outside of their own comfort zone, it is our responsibility to share our experiences and challenge them to grow. In life, we are often presented with three different options. Ones that allow zero growth, little growth, and great growth. Those choices that often offer the greatest growth can be the most painful, challenging, and uncomfortable experiences. Like a caterpillar bursting out of its cocoon as a butterfly or like a mother giving birth to a child, these experiences are likely very frightening and often painful. But the rewards from stepping into the unknown, discomfort and pain in growth, and expansion of mind, self, and being can reap benefits, rewards, and joy that couldn't be understood or experienced in one's life otherwise.

Taking in standing atop the amazingness that is Cusco, Peru