Respectful Ways to Respond to Issues

An image from my work, Glass House - Dancers Toby Lewellen & Amanda Sewell

As a freelance dance artist, you may find that you are often responsible for negotiating terms of your own contracts; including pay, housing, travel, and more. While some of these situations can be slightly uncomfortable, things are usually fine once you get everything in writing and sign on the dotted line. Unfortunately, though, as with many things in life, complications can arise that cause agreements to be violated or induce stress on your work in the studio. When this happens, your working relationship with that employer may suffer greatly. Dancers often choose the submissive path that they are taught to follow during their intense training years. But while it may be more comfortable to avoid conflict and let certain items pass by without even mentioning the issue to your employer, letting item after item slide by can be very damaging to your career and psyhce. From injury to disappointment, to anything as far as full-fledged burnout (which I recently discussed on my Pas de Chát podcast), not standing up for yourself can have dangerous implications.

There are many situations that may be better to leave unaddressed, but there are also a handful of topics that I strongly feel need to be touched upon. To offer all of my readers and those working dancers out there that don't have the luxury of turning to a union to deal with workplace issues, please read below to see my thoughts on how to best approach certain issues that may present themselves while on the job. With three years behind me working as a union delegate for Pacific Northwest Ballet and 5 years guiding my own career as a freelancer, I feel that I have a ton of valid experience to lend you some sound advice on how to respectfully respond to workplace issues.

Pay:

This is one area in which I have actually had relatively few issues throughout my freelance career. Of course, there is always that uncomfortable period when you are negotiating pay. But for the most part, employers respectfully follow through with paying dancers what they agreed, when they agreed to do it. Still though, every once in awhile I have heard of dancers that have had issues of non-payment.

When I have had an underpayment in the past, I have contacted my employer and casually mentioned it to them under the assumption that it was an honest mistake. This can be easier to discuss via email (and is more ideal for documentation purposes) because money is always a touchy topic to bring up. After an initial conversation, any errors or issues are usually resolved immediately (and with apologies).

I do remember an instance where an entire company of dancers wasn't paid for their work. After scrolling through angry, public Facebook outcries posted against the organization, I wondered how it could have been handled better. When a contract is being violated, it can be difficult to understand the correct route of execution to resolve complicated issues. For this reason, I hold legal insurance. This inexpensive assistance offers me access to talk directly to lawyers about any issues that I have free of charge beyond the $10 monthly rate. If their advice doesn't help you resolve your issue, they are also available to write letters to try to create an open path of communication. I strongly suggest stepping away from Facebook to announce any decrees against a company. While it may make you feel better, it could actually be used against you by the company, future employers, or cause issue if legal action needs to take place.

In the end, if there is no way to resolve the issue, you will need to determine if it is necessary for you to take legal action to reclaim your losses. I always suggest that you do everything in your power possible to avoid this. But a dancer should never feel like they can't protect themselves by accessing the power of the law.

Studio Conditions:

Rehearsing w/Oakland Ballet in 2014

Before I suffered a severe injury while dancing for Oakland Ballet, I actually told the director that I was concerned for my safety. After only a few days of dancing at their facilities, I recognized that the floor wasn't sprung and that they weren't turning the heat on (during the chilly 50 degree mornings of the East Bay spring). I started to change the way I approached my days. For instance, I stopped jumping altogether during class and wore gloves at barre. I'm not sure why, but this was one of the first times in my career that I was remiss to walk straight up to the director and ask for resolution.

After a few days of not jumping in class, the director pulled me aside and stated that he wanted me participating until the end of class. I wasn't too pleased with his request, as it showed me that he didn't understand the inadequacies of the facility and why commonplace items like a sprung floor are important to have for dancers performing at a professional caliber. In response to him, I calmly stated that I was concerned that I was going to injure myself due to the lack of spring in the floor. He acknowledged my concern, but still requested that I continue jumping. At that point, I responded, "I understand where you are coming from, but I am concerned that I am going to become injured. And while I would like to follow through to please you, you are not providing workers compensation in the event that I do get injured. So, I do feel it is necessary for me to continue working in the capacity that I am." He calmly agreed, though, I don't think he was very pleased with my response.

The best route of action to deal with studio conditions is to approach these issues earlier than later. If you have been dancing on a floor that is frighteningly slippery for a month and you finally reach your maximum threshold, it may be confusing to a director if it was never brought up before. Be sure to approach issues sooner than later. The way in which I interacted with the director may not appropriate for all dancers. I was lucky enough that I was more senior and had experience with talking to management about issues. If you feel that certain conditions may be endangering your body, but don't feel comfortable to approach management about the issues, I would suggest reaching out to a more senior dancer or somebody who seems to be on a more friendly level with the director. There is always a pathway to communication, even if it isn't direct. 

Rehearsal Conditions:

Some of you may look at the above section about studio conditions and assume that I am talking about the same thing. Let me differentiate this for you. Studio conditions involve the physical condition of the studio; like sprung floors, slippery floors, temperature, size, ceiling height, etc. Rehearsal conditions are the way that you are treated by whomever is running the rehearsal. Issues like this may include not being given appropriate breaks, demoralizing remarks, proper rehearsal structure, etc.

Back when I was dancing with another company in the Bay Area of San Francisco, I had an issue with rehearsal conditions. At the time, I had been flown in with one day's notice to replace an injured dancer in two difficult ballets. Within the time frame of 2 rehearsal days, I learned these two 20 minute ballets. This was an extremely difficult task, but my ability to retain quickly meant that we had more time to rehearse the ballets before they were put onstage. On the 3rd day of rehearsal, I was told by the ballet mistress that we would be running the 2nd ballet that I had just learned. We had hours of rehearsals and four more rehearsal days until we were in the theatre, so there was still some time left. I was concerned that running this fresh work full-out could possibly injure myself or cause me to injure my partner due to the lack of freshness in my mind. Instead of following common rehearsal procedures of breaking the work down into sections and rehearsing the sections separately before putting the whole ballet together, they wanted to skip to the final step.

As with the last section about studio conditions, it is important that you set up a pathway for communication. Make sure you say something before rehearsal gets underway. And if you aren't comfortable speaking up for yourself, don't be shy to ask for assistance. This should be approached in the same way as I mentioned above. You are responsible for your own health and career. And nobody knows what your body needs more than yourself.

Housing Issues:

Sometimes, people live differently...with ants all over their kitchen

This is yet another tricky topic that freelancers like to talk about among each other, but don't really like to address in the moment. I have had a great range of experiences with my housing while traveling the country to perform on stages small and large. Sometimes, I have stayed with host families. And, at other times, I have stayed in hotels. My experiences in both of these situations has ranged from the most amazing experiences of my career to the worst anxiety building periods of my life. At its finest, I have made lifelong friends, career benefactors, and more. At its worse, I have felt in genuine danger. It can really be a mixed bag when you are living in somebody else's space or staying somewhere unfamiliar that is booked by someone else.

First things first, when you start to feel uncomfortable with your housing, take a step back and out of yourself. Are you particularly uncomfortable only because you are out of your comfort zone? This is normal. Maybe the host doesn't like to turn on the heat until it is well past cold. Or, perhaps, your host smokes marijuana and you prefer to keep your distance from such substances. There are many situations that can feel frightening when you are trying to find your own comfort outside of your home. I always remind myself that there are many ways to live. My way of living is only one way, not the only way.

If there really is an issue with something, kindly ask to discuss the issue with your host, if you are comfortable. Most of the time, these people are housing you because they love artists and want to make you feel at home. I have had host families go way out of their way to accommodate my comfort. It is always best to have a personal conversation first because things can get awkward if you have to go through certain channels to relay a point. If worse comes to worse and you need to have somebody outside of the housing address it, it is not improper to ask your employer to change your housing situation. In the end, you are on-site to deliver your product, which is your dancing. If you can't relax, rest, and properly recoup at the end of your work days, you are more likely to get injured, less valuable to your employer, and less likely to return to a gig again.

Issues with Fellow Dancers:

It was the first day of a job and the choreographer had asked us to pair up with a peer. We were asked to improvise a duet together based off of a certain concept. By the time we had finished up, the choreographer had really latched on to the phrase that my partner and I had created. After sharing our choreography with all of the dancers, we were asked to do this again. I'm not sure what happened between the first and second exercise, but my peers mood quickly turned from camaraderie to anger. We were trained in different styles of dance, therefore we had different approaches to creating movement. The place we were working from previously was mutual, but once we hit a roadblock all of this dancer's communication skills broke down.

My first reaction to this breakdown was to try to resolve it myself. I apologized to the dancer for the miscommunication and asked if he would be a little clearer in what he was asking. At that point, the dancer turned to me and told me that they would figure it out on their own and I should figure it out on my own, then we could just dance our separate solos like a duet beside each other. I was in my 30's by this point and wasn't really interested in having a tense, dramatic in-studio experience.

I was really proud of how I approached this situation. I didn't make a big fuss out of it. I raised my hand and waved the choreographer over to speak to us. Instead of laying the blame on my fellow dancer for the anger that he was displaying towards me, I calmly mentioned that we seemed to be having a misunderstanding and some miscommunication and needed assistance to get back on track. The dancer snapped back in defense of his actions. Instead of trying to rat this dancer out, I continued to keep my calm and said, "I'm not trying to cause any issues, I just feel that we need help communicating and I'm hoping that he can assist us with that." The choreographer saw what I was trying to do and did a really great job of calming the other dancer down and getting us back to a good place.

So, if you find yourself in a similar situation, please follow my lead and seek out assistance to create a dialogue versus assigning blame. Blaming your fellow dancer will only cause immediate and, likely, future issue. Dance is very competitive and dancers almost always want to be seen in the best light possible. If a dancer feels like you are trying to make them look bad for your own personal gain, you will never resolve any situation.

Injury:

When most people think of an injury, they imagine those scenes in movies when a dancer goes down screaming in pain and hugging an ankle or extremity. While these dramatic injuries do happen, there is also a range of problems that don't always manifest as immediate or cringe-inducing traumas. Back in 2014, when I suffered the injury that took me out of dancing with Oakland Ballet, I landed a Horton-based jump that required me to drop out of the air in a contraction over one leg. I didn't feel or hear any pop. And I didn't feel any dramatic event immediately after execution either. In fact, I didn't notice it until after we finished running this difficult Molissa Fenley work. At the completion of the run, I noticed that my back was becoming mildly tight, but it didn't present itself as anything more than a bit of overwork. It took me nearly an hour outside of rehearsal to notice that something had went wrong and about 3 hours to know that something had gone severely wrong. As my back continued to seize up to the point that I almost had to call an ambulance to get out of bed the next morning, it became quite clear that it was unlikely that I was going to be able to make it to rehearsal that day, let alone the performance 8 days from then.

This is how I approached the situation. If you have a dramatic, clear take you out kind of injury, there really isn't much conversation to be had. You know you will be recovering for awhile and need to address whether you have the right to workers compensation or not. But if you have an injury like the one that I had in Oakland or a slowly building stress injury (stress reaction or stress fracture), it may be harder to assess if you need to be replaced or if you can muster up the strength to move on without causing further harm.

If you find yourself dealing with an injury that may resolve in time for a show or that you can continue dancing on without causing irreparable damage, you need to assess where you are today, if it is feasible to make it until the end of the show, and what type of physical therapy you can get to help cope with pain, swelling, or immobility. Once I assessed my injury and considered the amount of time it could take for me to get back to a functional place, I used my fastest path of communication to talk to the director. He had given me his phone number, so I texted him that I was injured and needed to have a conversation. If you don't have such direct access, an email should suffice. I wasn't quite ready yet to take myself out of the program. So, I sought medical assistance and started to take the powerful steroid Prednisone. Once that kicked in and the muscles around my spine started to calm down, it became clear to me that I was in pain beyond the immobility caused by muscular spasm to protect my injured spine. At this point, I had to make a decision between selfishly holding on to my roles in the performance (under the assumption that I probably wouldn't make it through the show) or to humble myself and request to be replaced in the performance.

I chose to relieve the company from the stress over whether I would make it through to the end and take myself out of the performance. While this was a difficult conversation to have with the director, it was necessary for me to give him time to figure out how to handle replacing me. Some directors take this news well, and some do not. So, be prepared to have an honest conversation based on reality. If you are concerned that the director doesn't believe your injury is bad enough or that they may feel that you should push through your pain, perhaps consider getting your doctor involved in the conversation. As dancers we are taught to do whatever it takes to please our bosses. But I urge all dancers to take care of themselves and prevent making an already bad injury worse. It is not worth living in pain beyond your dancing years to make it through one program of performances.

Inappropriate Conduct:

Dance is no ordinary workplace (Photo: Jeffrey Crane)

Overstepping sexual boundaries or making unwelcome statements is a rarity in our career field. Touching one another in inappropriate places and making raucous jokes isn't only common, but a part of the job. Keeping a light atmosphere in an intensely focused field is often important to the health of any dance organization. Additionally, while things like placing a hand high up an inner thigh for a press lift, kissing your Romeo/Juliet, or caressing one another's body for a romantic pas de deux are completely appropriate in context, there are times that lines are crossed. If this is the case, an offense that could be considered sexual harassment should not be taken lightly.

The first time that poor conduct occurs, one may not be completely aware of whether it was intentional or not. This doesn't matter. If you are uncomfortable with something that happened, I'd first suggest talking to your partner, ballet master, or whomever committed the act that was beyond your comfort zone. If everybody's intentions were good, a simply put, "Please don't touch me there when it isn't a part of the choreography" or "When you talk to me like that, it makes me uncomfortable," will likely lead to an immediate apology and acknowledgement of error (whether intentional or not). This will usually resolve any issue.

If you find that bringing up your discomfort doesn't yield a successful result, it is time that you bring this misconduct to the attention of somebody in power. First, assess whether you are overreacting to a norm in choreography. If you come from a more conservative background and aren't used to the requirements of partnering, perhaps ask a friend what they think.

Now that you've determined that what is happening is truly inappropriate, reach out. Always, always, always reach out to the Human Resources (HR) department first. This area of most organizations is responsible for dealing with any concerns or work place issues. In smaller organizations, though, these companies can't always afford to create an HR department or hire one employee devoted to HR. If this is the case, consider who would be best to talk to. A director isn't always the best person to chat with considering they often have a great deal of stress to work around. Additionally, you don't want to soil somebody's image if you mistook their intentions. If your dance partner or coworker is being inappropriate, talk to the person in charge of rehearsal privately. Do not do this in public, as there is nothing worse than embarrassing a colleague, especially if they didn't understand that what they were doing was inappropriate.

If the issue you have is with a Ballet Master or Rehearsal Director, you may need to approach the Artistic Director. Make sure that you know how you want to approach the director first. If you come off as overly emotional or aren't completely clear on what resolution you would like, they may see you as being dramatic and out of touch. You want them to take you seriously, so be clear and try to remain relatively calm.

If you have an issue with your director, there is no HR department available, and you have discussed your concern directly with them, you may need to reach out to somebody who the director respects. Be aware that if you reach out to a lawyer for advice and you have them contact the director, your relationship will change dramatically. And whether you want to keep your job or not, it will certainly end your time with that organization in the near future (whether on your terms or not). If you encounter this rare, unfortunate situation, be extremely sensitive, have clear examples, and try to stick to the facts. The moment that tears or yelling get involved, your voice is a lot less likely to be heard.

How to Survive Burn-Out

Every dancer has heard of it. Every dancer fears it. But few dancers actually have the tools to understand what it truly means to be burnt out. I've spent so many years of my life diving passionately into this career; perfecting my technique daily, reading and educating myself through dance periodicals, watching Youtube videos, and much more. I love dance more than most dancers that I know. For this very reason, how could it be possible that I ever would experience burnout within my passion. Well, it happened. And I am recovering from it. How did I get burnt out? What did I do to identify it? And what am I doing to make sure that my career as a dancer doesn't escape me?

It took me a long time to realize that I was burnt out. This wasn't a slow realization that occurred over time. It was more of a BAM! in your face type of moment. As many of my readers know, I was selected to choreograph for the National Choreographers Initiative this past July. After suffering an injury dancing in Oakland back in May, I took some time off to allow my body to recover. What I didn't realize was that my mind needed more recovery than my body did. I took an entire month off before starting to get back in shape. By the time that I had arrived at NCI, I was about 70% where I would hope to be if I was prepping for a performance. Since I was choreographing, I didn't need to be in performance shape. I figured that I would show up nearly there and spend the weeks that I was creating my piece working towards 100%. On the third day of company class, I noticed that my back wasn't quite as recovered as I had hoped it would be after taking the time off that I did. But instead of panicking like I may have in the past, I calmed myself with the knowledge that my choreography wouldn't be affected by my ability to physically perform. Keeping that in mind, I choreographed on

Leading my dancers in rehearsal at NCI

my dancers for the remainder of the day while in a bit of pain. I also noticed that I was starting to feel that something had changed mentally for me.

At the end of this gratifying workday, I called my partner as usual. But what came out of my mouth in our conversation was quite unusual. While I have had greatly gratifying experiences in my freelancing work over the past season, I realized that I hadn't enjoyed much of the time I had spent working in the studio or finding work in over a year, aside from performing onstage. Taking class and rehearsing without the pressure of surviving until the performance was a great relief. I spent that day conducting my dancers in joyful bliss. Feeling this way in the studio was something I hadn't experienced in over a year. How was this possible? I am in love with dance! But it was true. I instantaneously recognized that I was suffering from burnout.

You can see the emotional exhaustion - flying home from Oakland

The question at this point was, "What caused my burnout?" The roots of my affliction stemmed from one nasty seed. Fear. I spent my entire 2013 - 2014 season dancing in fear. The first day of my gig with Barak Ballet, my rental car broke down on PCH in rush hour traffic. I did a gig in West Virginia where I was told that I was going to stay with a host family, only to be left in a motel down the street from a handful of strip clubs (somebody even knocked on my door the first night). In San Francisco, I learned 2 ballets in a short period of time, only to find myself fighting to protect my body when being rushed through the rehearsal process. At yet another job, I learned an entire three act ballet in five 3-hour days to perform the role the following week. To cap out an exhausting season, I found myself living like a homeless person in Oakland and San Francisco, all while rehearsing in dangerous conditions. There was more, but I will leave it at that. Fear drove me deeply into burnout. Fear for my safety. Fear for my physical health. And fear that I was going to burn a bridge in many situations that unionized company dancers would likely walk out on. But one of the worst fears of all that kept me driving forth throughout this year of burnout was the fear that I couldn't pay my bills.

In my opinion, the main reason that dancers burnout is because they are forced to push forward when they are clearly afraid, tired, hurting, or more. If you are enjoying yourself and feeling rewarded by dance, it is almost impossible to burnout. But if you are pushing yourself to continue dancing because of pressure to perform, parents, promotion, pay, or pain, you are likely on the easy road to burning out. This past year while experiencing one of my most successful years working as a freelancer, I recognized something was wrong early on. Reading my blog back in October, it was clear that I was already pushing my limits with stress in my career. I hadn't spent more than 5 weeks at home in over 2 years. I missed financial stability. And I was exhausted by the constant need to stand up to employers and explain that, while I was hired short-term and there was no investment in me long-term, they needed to respect the limitations of the human body (proper rehearsal procedures, appropriate rehearsal time, etc). But back in October, it was the beginning of a new season and finding a full-time company position, at that time, was an impossibility. Beyond that, teaching jobs were mostly filled and I was limited in my options to find work. For these reasons, I continued to press forth and fight a battle not for my career, but survival.

Now that I recognized the reasons for my burnout, it was time for me to take action. Experiencing the trauma of overexerting and over-stressing your mind and body often woos you to play games with yourself. I was often depressed and considered ending my dance career altogether. I, even, found myself playing this dangerous game where I would ask myself, "Would I be upset if I just broke my ankle right now," or "What would I do if I never took a dance class again?" Once you start going down this road, it can be a slippery slope. My first task was to stop playing these games with myself. I also had to recognize that the pain from my injury, and a subsequent follow-up injury from compensating for my back, wasn't helping the situation. I stopped taking class and started taking care of myself.

My view while working to reclaim my Sunday guilt-free

Another major part of my burnout was the fact that I was working night and day. Class in the morning, gym afterwards, come home and look for work, update my website, teach class, come home and blog, look for more work, and worry about how this will all implode if I get hurt. This was a standard day for me. I, often, wouldn't even take a day off from this schedule unless I was working at a gig. I needed to stop looking for work and to let my information sit still for awhile. Beyond that, I needed to find ways to relax and smell the roses. For nearly 3 years, I couldn't just sit around all day on a Sunday watching TV, going for a walk, or sleeping in without feeling overwhelming, gut-punching guilt. I needed to take a break from the life that I had created to survive as a freelance dance artist.

I guess the big question here is, where am I today? I'm getting better. My body is feeling better. My mind is getting better. And I still love dance. I have been really lucky that an amazing job offer came my way right as I realized that I was burnt out. What I have found is that the best way to work through burnout is to lighten the load of that item that is burning you out. So many young dancers have felt the pain of burnout and fell completely out of a potentially beautiful career in dance. I feel that it is important to keep working on what you love while burnt out, just at a different capacity. I am currently working towards getting back in shape. Just at a much slower pace than I would typically do. I am focusing on keeping my body healthy, instead of beating it back into shape. I have also been lucky to have a renewed focus on dance through my choreography. Also, I am allowing myself to take more than a day off in between taking class if I feel it is necessary. If you keep your burnt out activity far enough away to allow for recovery, but close enough to allow that recovery to involve the work that has burnt you out, I truly believe that you will not become so overwhelmed that you push that activity out of your life permanently. I am also working with a new dance organization and exploring a new side of my dance career that is more stable and could lead to an eventually permanent transition after I am done with my dance career. I find that working on something that is gratifying, while working on something that is challenging helps to lessen the burden of this dangerous state.

At this point, I can't come out and say that I have survived burnout. But I can share my process and offer advice that has helped me throughout this process. While my current job doesn't have me dancing full-time, I am still keeping professional dance performance in my path. But instead of focusing on getting back onstage in an unhealthy way, I am focusing on healing my physical health and approaching the next stage of my performance career from a place of positive mental health. When I am back on top, in regards to my physical and emotional health, I am lucky to be in a place where I can continue to work in whatever capacity that I wish. Once again, I find myself hopeful to continue enjoying a professional performance career beyond the 12 years that I have already attained. But for now, I step back into my healing and continue to defend myself from that career-threatening injury called burnout.

Sitting on Flattop Mountain this weekend overlooking Anchorage, AK

The Frightful First Day of Work

During my first few weeks at PNB

Your first day at a new workplace is often a blur. New faces, new practices, and putting your best foot forward are three of many components that overwhelm most people after joining a new company. While there is a great amount of stress to show that an employer was right to choose you for the job, your first 8 hours on the job are rarely representative of what it will be like to work for a company or what you will be like working for that company. There is a lot to expect on the first day and a lot you want to project into your new environment.

I would call myself the king of the first day. Maybe that is reaching a bit far, but I have experienced more first days of work in the past 3 years than most people will experience in a lifetime. Looking back to my very first day with my first full-time company, I really can't tell you much. I joined Houston Ballet in July of 2003. I had spent a few weeks in the city getting my apartment together and adjusting to an adult lifestyle at the ripe age of 19 years old. I had met a few dancers in the company while getting in shape at the school's annual summer program, but didn't really know what to expect once our actual contract had commenced. I had a little taste of first day jitters when I guested with American Ballet Theatre in their Romeo and Juliet tour to the Kennedy Center while I was still training at SAB (fun side note: I was David Hallberg's 2nd cast when he had to go into the role of Benvolio. He was still in the corps.) But the beginning of your time with a company that could become your home is very stressful.

I had imagined day one of my career like this. The night before the start of my dream career finally arrived. I was really excited and a little bit nervous. My ideal night of sleep included about 8 hours of sleep. I showed up to the studio early. I needed to arrive in time to dress in the perfect outfit that I picked out the night before. I warmed up the best that I ever have. I made sure that I respectfully found the best place at barre that was still available. I didn't forget to smile at every dancer that walked by. People like happy beings, right? Class started and I knew I was going to have the best class of my life. You know, that class where even the long-time principal say, "Wow! That guy is incredibly talented!" After class, I was basking in the excitement that surrounded me. The director hired his new star, the company wanted to talk to the new talent, and my ultimate dream had been realized. Then I realized, that my dream day at my dream job is only a dream. A dream I had been building up for the last 2 years of my training.

Just another day on the job at PNB

None of these things happened on my first day, except for these things; I was nervous and excited that night before, but slept poorly. I must have been experiencing way too many adrenal emotions to actually get a good night of sleep. And I did smile at every person that I encountered. Many did not smile back. The reality of my first day at work was that for most of the people in the company, it was only their mundane return from vacation. It was nothing new or exceptional. And for me, now that I have been dancing professionally for 11 years, I don't even remember what happened on that day.

Luckily, at least for my readers, I have had many first days over the past 3 years to remind me what it feels like to leave your first impression on a boss and coworkers. As a freelancer, you will likely have many first days. And while, I am not completely numb to the prospect of showing a new group of people why I am the best person for the job, I am not as concerned about making an absolutely wholesome, perfect impression on day one.

Last week, I flew to San Francisco to begin working with Oakland Ballet. As with most of my freelancing work, I don't audition for the jobs that I am offered. My friend, Amy Seiwert, suggested that the director, Graham Lustig, take me into consideration to work with the project-based company for 6 weeks. Graham had never met me before and had likely never even heard my name. So, not only did I need to represent myself as a dancer, I needed to show for the person that trusted me enough to put their reputation on the line to get me a job. Since I am such a regular at this first day business, I wasn't too worried the night before.

I've been stuck in a bit of a pickle since I arrived in the bay area and I am still in the process of, hopefully, working things out. Housing isn't provided for this gig (the first time and last time I will accept work this way) and the place that I was supposed to stay fell through. A friend with a loft 1-bedroom condo very graciously offered me a place to crash until I resolved my situation. And while an apartment with no separating walls and a 40-minute commute to work wasn't ideal, I didn't really have any other options.

Oakland Ballet's rehearsal space - Malonga Casquelourd Center

On our first day of rehearsals, I woke up early to take the bus downtown to start my first day of work. After checking Googlemaps, I found that a specific bus would get me to the rehearsal space with 15 minutes to spare before class. I arrived at the bus stop five minutes early and went on to wait a half hour for the bus to arrive. Yes, my bus never showed up and I had to wait until the next one arrived. I tried to hail passing cabs and I seriously considered walking the additional 2 1/2 miles to work. While this was, perhaps, my 10th first day of work this season, I still felt awful and embarrassed when I had to text the artistic director that I probably wouldn't make it to class. Luckily, Graham was understanding of my situation. But if this had been one of my first jobs, I may have had a panic attack.

I arrived for class about 5 minutes late, but made it in time to join in two combinations late. My first thought upon running in to continue barre was, "my coworkers probably think horrible things of me right now." But then, I took a step back and thought back to watching others have a first day in companies that I have danced for. I barely noticed anything about those people on the first day. After class, we started rehearsing a new piece by Sonya Delwaide. Her choreography was fun and quirky and after a short hour-long audition, I was selected to be in her piece. Lunch passed and small talk ensued among us dancers. Half of the dancers work together seasonally and remained in a tightly knit group, but the others quietly sat around trying to connect without showing too many of their true colors. Everybody acts overly tentative on days like this. It makes sense. Nobody wants to be overly excited and everybody wants to be liked by everybody. For this reason, people play it safe on day one.

These dancer from Axis Dance Company will be joining Oakland Ballet in Sonya's piece

After lunch, we began rehearsing with Robert Moses. He briefly and briskly taught 32 counts of choreography. Then he told us to change the order of the steps. Following this, we paired up with another dancer, took our newly crafted solos, and turned them into duets. The only thing, for me, was that one of the dancers was missing because she was driving from Colorado after a weekend performing in Denver. I was partnerless. I couldn't learn the choreography of the duet by myself. And because of this handicap, once Robert started creating his piece, I was left out in the cold.

By the end of the day I was emotionally exhausted and a little unhappy. I was in a new time zone, I was sleeping on a couch, and I was commuting nearly an hour to work on a transit system that was unreliable. The first impression of me was being late. I wasn't immediately loved by every dancer in the studio. And one of the choreographers, the one that I was most excited to work with, didn't even seem to know that I existed. This was my first day and it was shitty. I failed in all of the places I had hoped to succeed on my first day with Oakland Ballet. All of this while being the most seasoned at entering a new workplace.

The reason that I share this story is because it really speaks volumes about what to expect on your first day of work and how much it really means in the long run. Yes, you want to do your best. Yes, you want to make your mark. But the first day is usually a whirlwind and it is rarely a representation of what work will be like, how you will get along with people, and what your true growth potential with that organization will be.

It is only one week later and so much has already changed since arriving to dance with Oakland Ballet. While I may still be figuring out my housing situation, I have figured much out and other things have evolved. My commute is no longer an issue. When I was still at my friend's house, I walked an extra 5 minutes to the BART, a much more reliable mode of transportation. I haven't been late since. Many of the dancers have opened up to me. And while I may have bonded to a degree with one or two people on the first day, the people that took longer to break through to seem to be getting closer with me than those who were more immediately. I am still enjoying Sonya's rehearsals and I have become a much more integral part of Robert's piece.

Many other factors have changed in the short week that I have been dancing with this company. If I had a first day like I did last week towards the beginning of my career, I may have had an absolute meltdown trying to cope with the stress of trying to prove myself worthy of the contract offered to me. But after my recent bad first day, I called my husband and shook it off. With the knowledge and experience I have, I knew that the rest of my experience with this company was not going to be based on all of the first impressions I had and made that day. This is because a first day of work is like a first date. Everybody is on their best behavior. Everybody is trying to look and do their best. Once everybody gets comfortable and things start to evolve, things fall into place and you get to see what the experience will truly be like. So, go into your first day as we all do. But don't go home thinking the best or the worst. Be happy that you had this day in the first place and take your first day attitude into everyday from there on.

Don't feel like this after your first day (Clarion Alley in the Mission District)

How have you felt on your first day of work?